As I walk behind her down the halls, it happens. I shrink inch by inch until I am no longer an adult, but a baby toddling along in a comically oversized business suit. I have been pretending to be a grown-up this whole time. My briefcase is full of milk: I have been found out.'This, then, is home. What is home? Is it a sort of lap of location, that exists only if certain conditions are in place? Is it the intersection of rigidity and comfort--a junction of familiartiy that you curl into? Is it a feeling? I don't know, but I'm being hugged hard against it, and I can't tell when I'll be let go.
In this excerpt from "Priestdaddy: A Memoir" by Patricia Lockwood, the author reflects on the experience of feeling like a child despite being an adult. The imagery of shrinking and donning an oversized business suit symbolizes the pressure to conform to adult expectations. She feels exposed and recognizes her facade, conveying a sense of vulnerability as she realizes her true self, which contrasts sharply with societal roles.
Lockwood also explores the concept of home, questioning what it truly means. She ponders whether it's a physical space shaped by certain conditions or an emotional state characterized by comfort and familiarity. This introspection evokes a deep connection to her surroundings, illustrating the complexity of home as a place of both security and confinement, leaving her feeling embraced yet uncertain about when she will break free from this embrace.