I’m not talking about the sanitized, cookie-cutter version of romance you see in commercials. I’m talking about the messy, hopeful, heartbroken, and hilarious reality of growing up as the sidekick in my mother’s romantic storylines.
My first real memory of her romantic life is "The Man in the Brown Jacket." He smelled like cedar and brought me a coloring book every Tuesday. I was devastated when he vanished. "He wasn't brave enough to handle both of us, baby," she said, tucking me into bed. "We are a two-for-one deal." Sex Life With My Mother- Fantasy- -v1.0- -haruh...
My mother’s romantic storylines were chaotic, unpredictable, and sometimes a little tragic. I’m not talking about the sanitized, cookie-cutter version
She looked at me, surprised. Then she laughed, softly. "When did you get so wise?" I was devastated when he vanished
Our relationship strained during those years. I was embarrassed by her neediness. She was terrified of being alone. We were two women living in a small apartment, projecting our fears onto each other.