Frida Kahlo takes a family photo, wearing a 3-piece suit and holding a cane, 1924.
Nearly 30 years later, in 1953, she writes a letter to Diego Rivera as she awaits surgery to amputate one of her legs.
"I'm writing this letter from a hospital room before I am admitted into the operating theatre. They want me to hurry, but I am determined to finish writing first, as I don't want to leave anything unfinished. Especially now that I know what they are up to. They want to hurt my pride by cutting a leg off. When they told me it would be necessary to amputate, the news didn't affect me the way everybody expected. No, I was already a maimed woman when I lost you, again, for the umpteenth time maybe, and still I survived.
I am not afraid of pain, and you know it. It is almost inherent to my being, although I confess that I suffered, and a great deal, when you cheated on me, every time you did it, not just with my sister but with so many other women. How did they let themselves be fooled by you?
…Let's not fool ourselves, Diego, I gave you everything that is humanly possible to offer, and we both know that. But still, how the hell do you manage to seduce so many women when you're such an ugly son of a bitch?
The reason why I'm writing is not to accuse you of anything more than we've already accused each other of in this and however many more bloody lives. It's because I'm having a leg cut off (damned thing, it got what it wanted in the end). I told you I've counted myself as incomplete for a long time, but why the fuck does everybody else need to know about it too? Now my fragmentation will be obvious for everyone to see, for you to see... That's why I'm telling you before you hear it on the grapevine...
…I'm writing to let you know I'm releasing you, I'm amputating you. Be happy and never seek me again. I don't want to hear from you, I don't want you to hear from me. If there is anything I'd enjoy before I die, it'd be not having to see your fucking horrible bastard face wandering around my garden.
That is all, I can now go to be chopped up in peace.
Goodbye from somebody who is crazy and vehemently in love with you,
Your Frida"
*recounting my summer situationship*
Me: “I’m stupid.”
My therapist: “Aren’t we trying to work on our negative self-talk?”
Me: “Okay you’re right, I’m not stupid.”
Therapist:
Me:
Therapist: “You are silly, though.”
My 2 cents about the monologue in Barbie is that it’s not you learning about feminism & patriarchy for the first time, it’s Barbie learning. So yeah, it may be elementary to you but Homegirl is being taught all this, she’s the protagonist. Not you with your gender studies degree.
fun fact: this lady in the barbie movie is ann roth, a brilliant costume designer, and 2 years ago when i was an extra on a film she did the costuming for, she made it a point multiple times to tell me that i “looked fabulous” and had “classic beauty”…i’ll never forget that 🥹