COLUMN : sheep in wolf's clothing

i want to tell you about something that happened a few months back that has really stuck with me. it was my grandmother’s 83rd birthday and she was coming by train to stockholm to spend the weekend with my parents.

what she didn’t know was that i was just about to surprise her by showing up at the train station and joining her and my parents for the weekend, instead of her going to my parents’ place on her own. i love surprises – both being the surpriser and the surprisee. so on my way to the train station to pick her up i bought a couple of those shiny whistle things you have at kids’ birthday parties that makes brilliantly horrible tooting sounds, you know ? one blue for me and one green for her.

i was in such a good mood, like always when i’m about to meet my granny.
i come to the station and go the middle of the big arrivals terminal, where everyone waits for someone. tourists, parents, girlfriends, amateur sport teams, garage band members. and me.

me in a very black outfit. with a very shaved head. with very dark purple lips.

it became very clear from the looks of the girlfriends and tourists that i wasn’t classified as ‘granddaughter waiting on grandmother’. me myself, i felt a lot like a granddaughter, that was my frame of mind, my reason for being there. i was quite shocked to see the looks of disapproval from my fellow waiting companions.

like i was public enemy number one.

i wanted to say to them ‘wait, i’m not bad. i’m a pacifist, a vegan. i’m polite and friendly. i don’t spend my saturday evenings sacrificing kittens to satan. but i just stood there seeing myself with their eyes, clutching those shiny tooting whistles in my pocket.

then from across the terminal i see my grandmother. and she sees me and shoots off one of her trademark smiles. and i rush up, give her a big hug and stick the whistle in her mouth. and we toot and laugh and i can feel the surprised looks of that hostile tourist group in my back. but i’m completely happy again. because i now see myself with granny’s eyes. and i feel like the granddaughter again.

love // jenny