The black suit with its grey buttons conjure shadows that follow me even when it there is no light outside. It is a reminder of my old life. With that suit, I wore black hose, tuck my tummy in, stood straight, and slipped on two inch pumps. The edges of the jacket didn’t curl up, it lay flat, as if I had been dry-cleaned too. I dressed each part of my body with precision, not wanting to disturb the symphony of the clothes that I created. As I exited the door, I picked up my briefcase, to embark on my professional life in the courtroom.

My black suit never betrayed me. As I stood, my knees didn’t buckle and my hands didn’t shake and with a even tone, I proceeded to engage in a dialogue with the Judge. No pauses existed in my argument, the space filled with preparation and confidence.

Some days I don’t believe four years have passed since that black fabric grazed my veins.   Sometimes I miss the smell of mahogany in the courtroom, the pictures of Judge’s portraits in the hallways, and the clang of the metal detector as I walked into chambers.

I step through different corridors now. The blue metal gate greets me as I park my car. My daughter is excited about school. For a second I glare into the window and see my reflection. My hair is rolled tight at the nape of my neck and I feel the weight of this world as the shoelaces of my sneakers unwind. The classroom clamor welcomes me as I corral my daughter to take a step into her homeroom. On the walls, construction paper houses and A-B-C’s line up like a parade.

I wave to my daughter, give her a kiss on the cheek. I take in this moment, knowing that it was right to shed my black suit, but that doesn’t mean sometimes I don’t miss my shadow.

Image by Olibac


Do you find sometimes that you miss a profession/job that you had in the past?  Do certain objects elicit such memories? If you decided to give up a career to embrace motherhood, how often do you think of returning to your  former “shadow”?