taking up space

I don’t remember when I started holding in my stomach. [...] It’s hard to trace a habit so ingrained that I don’t know it exists. Until I’m lying on a table and her hand rests at my solar plexus and she tells me to let go. I can’t. I don’t know how, or not yet.

As we made our way to the back of the plane, the baby apologizing the whole way, passengers were giving us a certain look, one to which I had become accustomed to receiving when with my daughter. The one that says, How cute. I, however, was shaken. Had I really taught my daughter, all of 1½ years old, that she needs to apologize for herself? That because she was noticed — rather than slipping quietly through a space — she needed to say “I'm sorry”?