Mug Me


Prompt: Write about an obsession

Obsessed. Absolutely obsessed. I can’t resist buying coffee mugs even though I can only use one at a time. Who needs over a dozen coffee mugs for one person in a one bedroom apartment? Apparently I do. Mostly, I love collecting mugs from bookstores I’ve been to. While mugs have nothing to do with books, they are somehow an inexplicable and yet perfect pair of lovers.

I choose my mug for the day based on what a different mug will feel like in my hands. The color of it, its curve as it curls up into my hand, it’s weight and capacity to make my hand hot or neutral, and of course if it was a present or a personal splurge.

If I need to feel connected to my mother, I’ll pour my coffee in the handmade green mug with a beautiful design of a goddess-with-dreads looking image. My mother bought be this mug at the gift shop of some hot springs we went to when I was in Colorado visiting her this past summer. I was feeling ugly in my body that day, and scared to be in public in a bikini. The scars that line my arms and parts of my thighs are glaringly obvious to me, but my mother was trying to reassure me that they were barely visible. I was crying I was so scared to reveal myself to stranger eyes.

My mother hugged me and kept cooing to me that I was absolutely beautiful. After we finally settled into the naturally formed hot pools, I started to relax. My body started to feel like a part of me again. Later, in the gift shop full of trinkets and postcards, we saw these mugs. I didn’t say a word about how much I wanted one. But my mind was doing back flips at the possibility of owning one. Knowing I didn’t need another coffee mug, I firmly resisted making the purchase, and got out of the gift shop before my obsession got the better part of me.

In the car, my mother couldn’t contain her excitement.

“I just had to buy you this mug, because it reminded me of how brave and beautiful you are.”

This mug lines my kitchen wall along with its fellow sentimental mugs. I choose this green goddess of a mug when I need to feel settled in my soul, or if I’m particularly missing my mom that morning. I hug it between my hands, and I can feel my mother’s love and strength holding me.

Yes, you are a warm and beautiful human being.


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