Cuckoo In The Nest
/This piece describes my sense of freedom after getting divorced.
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My ex-husband had a
Nickname for me: Cuckoo.
I don’t think it was an
Endearment, more a
Statement of fact as
He was a plain speaking
German, baffled and
Probably hurt by my
Stubborn inability to
Settle in his gemutlich
Family nest. After all I
Was English, an only
Child and he was a
Fraternal twin. He also
Compared my parents
To robins, rearing an
Unwieldy chick, who
Also outgrew their
Sheltering wings. I
Believe now that he
Was right, as cuckoos
Are indeed nature’s
Only children: free,
Selfish and unconstrained
By family ties. They
Are changelings from
Another world they
Hanker for, rather
Than the squabbling
Nurture of siblings.
Even in marriage, I was an
Interloper. I failed to
Recognise that twins
Took precedence in
His family-tree; sharing
A heart and soul, in the
Words of my mother-in-law.
I did not understand, even
In translation, why my
Sister-in-law hated
Any woman who dared
Misplace her birthright
Over a womb from which
She had emerged first.
She led, he followed:
I trailed behind, because
Three’s a crowd, especially
When one of them blanks
You when you’re in the
Same room, let alone
The same womb. I was the
Clamp which shut off her
Life-blood from
Their maternal placenta.
I was the unwanted
Triplet, who could not be
Left to starve quietly
In a side-ward; I had
To be drip-fed acceptance
Through my marital status;
Lulled into complicity by
The myth of family romance.
But I screamed for air as I
Stifled, drowning, in their
Amniotic closeness. I have
Strong lungs and my call
Became more insistent as I
Realised that the egg of my
Marriage had hatched out an
Intruder, an ill-fitting piece
That they longed to expel from
Their family’s tidy jigsaw-box:
I bent its corners out of shape.
Only when I saw outside it
Could I realise what a puzzle
I was to them. Divorce opened
The window and out I flew
Calling in relief that now I am
On the outside, looking in.
By Kate Meyer-Currey
From: United Kingdom
Instagram: DrKMC