I was groomed by the people who loved me the most. Not on purpose. They thought they were keeping me safe. They thought they were teaching me how to be a good girl, the kind of girl who will grow into a woman who can get along in this world.

Screened in windows of the women’s quarters at the Mehrangarh Fort, Jodhpur India

The lessons were simple and consistent:

Be nice.

Don’t be too loud.

Look pretty, but not provocative.

Be agreeable.

Don’t cause a scene.

On the way to my annual physical, I walked past the rough stucco, pseudo-Spanish style condominiums where I once visited the boyfriend of a neighbor. He was a film student. I was in middle school. He met me when I was helping to cater a party at his girlfriend Stephanie’s house. The party must have been to celebrate her medical study advancement. The boyfriend Neil was awkward and nerdy which is why he ended up in the kitchen talking to me and the other hired help most of the night.

The timeline is hazy after many years, but somehow he asked if I would help him with a film. I said yes. I didn’t really have the language to say no. He was the boyfriend of my neighbor, a woman I looked up to and worked for on occasion. We scheduled a time for me to come to his place. The very same pseudo-Spanish condominiums were within walking distance from the little street where I lived two houses down from his girlfriend. I showed up at the appointed time. His place was film student/struggling artist chic. Movie posters dominated the walls. I am sure his collection included a Woody Allen film or two. He offered me a soda. I accepted the drink.

My mom loved film, especially dialogue driven, smaller releases. By extension, I was more fluent than most middle school girls I knew in foreign language movies and what is now called an ‘arthouse’ film. Neil and I chatted for a while about his favorite films, his dreams and aspirations. I am not sure if it was explicitly stated or not, but it was clear he found me a much easier audience than his physician-in-the-making girlfriend Stephanie. 

Before I left, he asked if I would be in his next project. Again I gave the only response I knew-yes. We met once or twice more at his condominium, actually on the grass outside. He filmed me sitting on the grass, looking at flowers, or running around the small landscaped area without much specific direction. 

Stephanie broke up with him shortly after I mentioned our filming one day as I helped her in the garden. I was glad. Even then, I knew she was much smarter than he was or ever would be. Maybe, I could be as smart as her one day.