Gaps

as published in Hindsight (Bowen Street Press, 2025)

https://bowenstreetpress.com/publications/p/hindsight

But first, context

This year, I was lucky enough to have three memoir / creative non-fiction pieces selected for publication in Bowen Street Press journals / anthologies. I didn’t realise these would only be produced on a (very) limited release, so I’ve decided to share the text here. Perhaps selfishly, I’d really love for the words I spent hours writing and refining to be out in the world - I wouldn’t have submitted for publication were that not the case…

Gaps started out as a piece I wrote for International Women’s Day 2025 - a callout for the Raine Square Short Story Station. The brief: works on identifying as female. My first thought was that I had nothing of value to contribute, until I began to muse on the ways being feminine had often seemed more of a challenge growing up without a mum.

The piece certainly had it’s own gaps, in terms of recognising all the positive influences I had in my life: my father, my sister, my brothers, my extended family, and my dear friends.

It’s still far too brief, but it grew some longer legs with the support of the editors at Bowen Street Press. I’m so glad to see it feature more permanently in Hindsight: A Feminist Anthology, and I’m honoured to share it with you now.

Cover design by Avila Rozario | Cover image from Art Institute of Chicago

Hindsight

Edited by Emma Bocevski, Caitie Jones, Meg Kennedy, Hannah Lewon & Chloe Robinson

According to the blurb, ‘Hindsight is an attempt to translate the invisible thread that binds women together. This anthology gathers intimate moments and universal experiences - untangling ourselves from the lessons of girlhood to feel the love of a community that has and always will be, quietly and faithfully, by your side.’

Content warning: themes of grief & loss

Gaps

by Britt McCarthy

My mum died when I was 6 years old. A tough experience, obviously, but this isn’t a sad story.

The loss of a parent leaves unseen scars—formed from painful emotional wounds and those less considered day-to-day practicalities. As a motherless girl, I became aware of certain gaps throughout my journey in femininity. Some were filled, others remain to this day. For example:

Beauty (preening & pruning)

Not that she was much of a (hashtag) influencer, with her perm, overly plucked eyebrows and daggy 90s mum-wear. My hair’s always been straight, though I’ll admit to being on intimate terms with my own tweezers in high school. (It was fashionable at the time! And they grew back, thankfully.) I was urged to put off shaving my legs as long as possible and to do it infrequently, so it didn’t grow back as fast. Dad had to shave his ‘whiskers’ daily, so I trusted the man knew what he was talking about! Even though I’ve since learned this isn’t the done thing, I’ll admit I’ve carried this hesitancy (read: laziness) with me ever since.

My skill with a hair straightener (the only tool I’ve ‘mastered’) is probably on-par with that of an 8-year-old. (Grab a clump, throw it between the prongs and squeeze it down!) You can probably guess how I go with makeup (all 4 products). No number of online tutorials can help this girl figure it out, but I know I’m not alone in this (and indeed, it might not have anything to do with my parental situation).

Puberty (blood – too much, boobs – not enough)

Outsourced for the most part.

When I got my first period in year 9, I cried my eyes out. It came on the weekend, while I was playing with my Barbies. (In my defence, this was highly sophisticated—and often sexy—recreation in the vein of my favourite daytime soap opera: à la Bold and the Beautiful.) Even though Dad had previously shipped me off to the lady across the road for an ‘edu-fun Aunt Flo’ roadshow, my panic was palpable. I still wasn’t ready! (Duh—weren’t the Barbies enough of a hint?)

The task of buying my first bra—technically a bralette—fell to one of my best friends and her older sister. I still remember the teal material with its flimsy triangles for my very small bosom (not much bigger now). Under the same influence, I had a short-lived (and thoroughly unenjoyable) dalliance with G-strings. The details of one particular item remain as stuck in my mind as it was between my cheeks: a purple and orange piece with Tigger from Winnie the Pooh on the front. Tigger!!! Who the hell was that marketed to? (I still live in wonder.)

Boys (dating them, specifically)

They were never that appealing in high school. After the Barbies were put away (also, coincidentally in year 9), I avoided the real thing for the most part with celebrity crushes and fan fiction. After a few near-misses, I met my first boyfriend at 18 (and married him 11 years later). Lucky! (Seriously lucky. Some pretty intense attachment issues caused more gaping chasms than gaps in this space, and this man helped me traverse them with such patience and love. Perhaps I had a certain guardian angel on my side...?)

***

I’m 36 now.

Even after all this time without her, I carry so much of my mum with me. These are the things I love most about myself. There are the physical resemblances: a dimpled, toothy smile; delicate hands with nails that never need manicuring; an infectious (and some might say too-loud) laugh, to name a few. A love of writing (and the ability to do so without much in the way of formal training) is my proudest inheritance by far. And of course, the curious and imaginative nature she nurtured within me for those short years is a gift that will never lose its value. Brittany’s off on another planet in her bedroom, she once wrote to her sister.

Nothing much has changed there—only now the time is spent in my writing room. I know she’d be proud of the woman I’ve become, and as uncomfortable as it is to admit, I am too. The journey here hasn’t always been easy—it’s actually been incredibly tough—and there are still plenty of gaps, but I’m as whole as I can be, thanks to the countless beautiful people who have walked this long, oft unstable path, by my side. Because of them I’ve always been able to find the light in my life—the levity and the joy—and for that, I’ll always be grateful.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

I would love to hear your thoughts! And if you are super keen for a physical copy - let me know :)