Carmen Badolian

She took off her high-heeled, rhinestoned red boots and left them by the door. Her black leather coat and bag she dropped on the black massage table.
“I don’t have a second chair,” I said. “So you can choose—chair or table.“
She sat on the table. Legs crossed, wrapped in black leggings.

“Do you mind if I record our conversation?“
“I don’t.”
I placed the voice recorder in front of her.

“I feel a little uncomfortable,” she said, straightening her back, adjusting her shoulders. “But that’s okay,” she added.
“Is it because of the recorder?“
She laughed. “Yes.”
“Where do you feel it?“
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I can be fully me with you. Usually I can read people—feel how they are. But with you, I can’t. Haha. And I felt it instantly.”

What does it mean to be fully you?
Maybe just fully comfortable. And I’m usually good at that—getting comfortable quickly. But right now, I don’t know why I’m not. It’s not bad, she added, louder, like she was trying to reassure me.

What’s your greatest fear?
Being trapped in a plane.
One that never lands?
Yes. She smiled.

Are you scared of being trapped in a bus or an elevator?
Not in an elevator. But in a crowded bus, with no escape—yes. Or the metro.
So it’s not the plane—it’s being trapped with people.
Yeah, (laughing loud). It’s weird.

What brings you comfort?
Something warm. The sun. Fire. A blanket.
Would you like a blanket now?
No, I’m okay. Thank you, (smiling). You have a lot of tattoos. Did you do them all yourself?
Some of them.

How would you describe your path? Are you heading somewhere?
Maybe before, I wanted that—a path, a direction. But now I’m just… surrendering. Honestly, I don’t think I’m following any path. And that’s kind of scary.

So what motivates you to keep doing what you do?
I don’t know. It just feels like something I have to do. Intuition. When I tried doing things with a purpose, it made me anxious—sad. I started out doing it because it was fun, meditative. But then I wanted to make it bigger, push it further, test my limits, make it better and better—but for a purpose. And it didn’t work.
What purpose?
Making it more than it is.
Can you elaborate?
Like turning my hobby into…
A job?
No, not a job. Just something more constant. Haha. I don’t know if art can be a job. You can’t force it.
What can you force?
I don’t know. Everything and nothing. But forcing creativity never works for me.

What makes you sad?
People who can’t express their feelings. It builds up. Creates weight. Things left unsaid that grow heavy. And I don’t even want to start on how sad I am about war, animal abuse… there’s too much. She said it with a fate-touched smile, like someone making peace with things they wish were not true.

How do you cope with that sadness?
I try not to watch. I’m not brave enough to act. So I shut my brain off. I found a way to run.
How do you do that?
I don’t know. I just choose not to think. And it works.
Have you always been able to?
No. Sometimes I still can’t. And I suffer. I can’t breathe. She laid her hand on her belly. I got sick from anxiety—three years of it. It showed up in other ways. I did hypnosis and things like that, just to calm down. That’s how I learned to breathe. So now, when it hits, I try not to fall into it. I just breathe. I wait. My heart slows down, and I realize it’s not killing me. It’s been three minutes, and I’m still here. Then it goes away on its own.

Is there something you want to achieve in life?
Yeah, for sure.
What is it?
I don’t know. Hehe. I want something, I just don’t know what it is. But it’s there.

Do you want to have kids?
She gasped, sharp and brief. Your questions are huge! I never wanted kids. But two years ago, something shifted. I have a strong relationship with my mother.. she had me very very young, in a complicated marriage. She feels more like a sister. It’s a bond that really matters to me. But it makes it harder to have other relationships. She paused, looked down.
And I’m very much in love with my partner. And I think I could have kids with him. He’s different. But I’m not ready. You can’t have a baby too late. I feel young in my head, but my body’s not. And also, I’ve got too much unresolved things.
She looked at me carefully now.
My mother didn’t want me. She had a hard pregnancy, she was anxious, and I felt all of that. I don’t want to pass that on. So yes, I want kids. Just not now.
When the time is ready.
Yes.

Your smile is very warm and sincere. In the end, I didn’t feel like you were a stranger anymore—she texted after walking away.