Oof.

I open tumblr every once in a while, partly out of reflex. I only use it to tell people I’m on Patreon now. It’s one of the few places former followers can find me. I don’t post new content, maybe a few cute posts I’ve seen pop up on my dash now and then, and then a reblog of some older content with a link to this fine Patreon playground over here.

But.

Last night when I went to do so I noticed, for the first time, that it still says “happily married” in my bio.

Ouch.

I changed it.

It was true when I wrote it but it stopped being true a long time ago. I kept it there anyway, wishing I could make it true again.

My mother said on the phone yesterday “I just want you to be together, and happy, and in love.” So did I Mom, so did I. But I can tell you now I’m two of those things, happy and in love. And I no longer wish we were together.

She told my grandparents, religious and old world, about my separation My grandmother prays for me every day. My Mother admonished me for leaving his name out of my Christmas card. I suppose I should have kept that up to save her awkward phone calls? Nobody called me to ask though...

I told her how nice it’s been parenting without somebody’s chaos under this roof. How it’s been so steady and healthy and good. How it’s been like I always dreamed parenting would be. She said “I wish more than anything that I’d had the opportunity to feel that...”

She’s at once jealous of me for taking these steps, and proud of me for taking these steps. Our conversations are an equal mix of guilt, shame, empathy, and excitement. She can barely contain her bitterness or her wounds. I love her. Carrying her beasts of burden and thrusting herself between her immigrant parents and her new world daughter. She always wanted to protect me, she just didn’t know how.

I don’t protect her either anymore.

“I wake up happy and I go to bed happy Mom, I didn’t know that was possible as an adult.” I don’t want her to worry. I don’t want her to hold on.

“That sounds really nice,” she says.