“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, my defensiveness very audible.
Mom rearranges a couple of the bangles on her wrist, hugs her mug of tea and then looks at me with a softer expression. “You know, when you told me a year or so ago that you were aromantic and no longer interested in romantic relationships, it was harder to hear than when you came out as non-binary.”
I feel my face fall.
“Not that that was hard. It wasn’t. It’s not a bad thing, of course. It was… just an adjustment. Just a little bit of extra care and attention I had to give you, and I hope you know I never mind doing that for you.”
“I know, Momma.” I offer her a smile.
“But when you said you were aromantic, I felt like I’d done something wrong.”
“You? No, no—” I begin but Mom holds her hand up, stopping me.
“Let me explain. I know you had a hard time with Geneva. I know she hurt you, deeply. And I also know that your time withHarley and Miko was… intense. Not always easy. But deep down, when you told me you weren’t going to be pursuing romantic relationships again, I felt like it was my fault.”
“No, Momma, it wasn’t. Jesus, there’s nothing bad about being aromantic. You know you’re playing up to a lot of negative stereotypes about aromanticism right now.”
Momma shakes her head. “I get that. Maybe I’m not explaining it very well. Bear with me. I’m simply saying when you told me, I had to question myself. I had to realize what I had exposed you to, and how that could have effectively had an impact on you. My two failed relationships. Two absent fathers.”
“This has nothing to do with them. I am not my father,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Of course you’re not. Nor are you me. But I would be a bad parent if I didn’t look at what you grew up with and wonder how it had possibly affected you.”
“It’s not a bad thing to be aromantic,” I say again, now with an achingly tight jaw.
“You’re right, it’s not,” Mom agrees. “I don’t see it as a bad thing, at all, but I just didn’t, and in some ways, I still don’t see it as ayouthing. And that made me think about things that happened to you growing up.”
I lean forward and reach out a hand to take one of hers. “Momma, I grew up with love.Yourlove. I grew up knowing I would always be taken care of. I grew up being cared for and seen and heard and loved. Being aro doesn’t mean I experience a lack of love.”
Mom pulls her lips into her mouth for a second and nods. “You’re right. And that’s a comfort. And you know, I did my best, with you kids. I really did. But when it came to romantic love,” she huffs out a quick, strained laugh, “I know I messed up. I know I chose the wrong partners. I know I fucked up.”
“It takes two to tango,” I say. “You didn’t force either of them to leave.”
“But I did try to make them stay when maybe I should have just let them go.”
I blink at my mother. This is the most she’s ever said about mine or Jessica’s father and I can’t decide if I want to hear more or to shut this conversation right down.
“I knew deep down that neither your father, nor Jessica’s dad, they didn’t love me like I deserved to be loved. And look, I have no regrets, because I have you two. Those men gave me the greatest loves of my life, it just wasn’ttheirlove.” She squeezes my hand.
We sit in silence for a long moment and the only noise I can hear is the muffled voices of whatever movie Jessica and Taylor are watching in the living room next door.
“Why are we even talking about this?” I ask.
“Tell me how you feel about Maeve,” she says. “How you really feel about her.”
“I feel…” My mouth falls closed again. When I think about Maeve, I feel a galaxy of emotions. There are too many and they are too rich, too vast and too wild for me to tame into words. And in this moment I don’t care about labels – hers or mine – and I don’t care about what the world we live in has to say about us, but rather more about what’s destined in the stars. “I feel everything.”
Mom smiles gently at me before she speaks again. I can’t say exactly why but it feels like a warning. “That’s what I thought.”
“Meaning?” I prompt Mom.
“I’m simply saying, if you know deep down that Maeve can love you like you deserve to be loved, and you believe you can love her like she deserves to be loved, then don’t let anything stop you. Don’t let past relationships – mine and yours – or how you do or don’t identify get in the way. And, maybe you shouldn’tdo it from afar. Maybe you should ask yourselves if there is a way you can be together, in the same place.”
I look at her helplessly. “What can I do? She lives on the other side of the world.”
“Then get on a plane.” She waves her hand toward the door as if there’s one waiting for me outside.
“I can’t just get on a plane and go to Ireland,” I tell her. “I have responsibilities here. I have Jessica.”
