Sylvia Plath and the Fig Tree

Photo from  @_foodstories_

Photo from @_foodstories_

I saw my life branching out before me. 

"From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion.

I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose.

I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”

– Sylvia Plath

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