Since then, I have been thinking about disinheritance as a decolonising strategy. One of the most challenging things I have had to do as an adult has been to sift through the extent to which I have internalised other people’s perceptions of my appearance. I have always felt haunted by how other people have gazed at me because of the darkness of my skin tone. The persistent comments since I was a little child made me feel like there was something wrong with me and I felt like I had to compensate for my ugliness. I was a ‘nice person’ not because I felt inherently like being nice but because I felt safer when I was liked. It is only in the last two or three years that I was able to fully acknowledge, without shame, how so many aspects of my personality came from people-pleasing tendencies. This is perhaps why Sara Ahmed’s concept of the ‘killjoy’ has been so central to my current trajectory, because being a feminist killjoy involves embracing the fact that your vocalising of injustices and inequities will upset the status quo and make people uncomfortable. To relinquish people-pleasing behaviours is to already move towards feminist terrain. This form of relinquishing is a disinheritance, because you are consciously evoking a break in the intergenerational transmission of subservience, especially if you have been ‘girled’ into submission from an early age.

Ever since I had my last therapy appointment in 2020, I have been trying to continue the work I had learned to do through my sessions. It is still hard for me to ‘feel my feelings’, especially grief, because to allow myself to fully feel these difficult emotions requires solitude that toddler parenting rarely affords. I have found churches to be super safe spaces to cry. When I have time, I go there and let it all out. I’m trying hard not to bottle up my emotions, not to let them either ferment or fester. It’s helping me to be less anxious. It was only two years ago that I was able to recognise the extent to which anxiety had become a part of my life. I had internalised the feeling of anxiety as a safe, familiar space. Last Christmas, at the morning mass, I had this sudden epiphany that the void I had been feeling every year during Christmas since I moved to Tramin was in fact the absence of anxiety. Living so far away from home, I was suddenly under no obligation to make sweets or decorate our apartment or do anything frenetic. I felt like I was missing out on something or couldn’t shake off the feeling of suddenly having nothing to do except take it easy.

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As a parent, I’m discovering how much agency I have in determining the course of events. If my child spills a cup of milk, I don’t need to get hyper and shame him. We say ‘uh oh’ together and begin to clean up. Instead of focusing on what my child shouldn’t do, I tell him what he can do. I’m not sure these strategies make me a better parent. But I’m convinced I’m a less anxious one. Every now and then I pick a new personality trait I want to disinherit while also focusing my energies on the traits I feel privileged to have inherited—like my expertise in the kitchen (from my father) or my caretaking abilities (from my mother). In doing so I find so much delight in who I am becoming.  

Deliberating on the life and times of Everywoman, Rosalyn D’Mello is a reputable art critic and the author of A Handbook For My Lover. She tweets @RosaParx
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