“you’re losing control a bit, and it’s really distasteful”—Fuck You by Lily Allen
I should have left. Telling Sofia I was going to meet my mother was a lie. She wouldn’t have found out if I actually went to see her or not, and yet here I am.
My mother is blowing her cigarette smoke right into my face as she just stares at me, not saying a single word. I am seconds away from puking at her rudeness.
First of all, who blows their goddamn cigarette smoke out in someone’s face?
Second of all, what kind of mother just stares at the child they gave birth to for a whole five minutes without saying a single word? Especially after they’ve seen said child for the first time in sixteen years.
“Your sister alright?” she finally asks once her precious cigarette is finished.
“Not that you care,” I answer. Perhaps I should be a little nicer, given that she’s my mother and all. But then again, is she really?
Liz raised me. Well, my father did but Liz has been there all these years as well. She may only be my stepmother, and yet she’s been more of a mother to me than the woman giving birth to me has ever been.
“I do care, Aaron.” She puts off her cigarette in the ashtray, giving me a quick smile as her eyes land back on mine. “She is my daughter.”
“Question is: are you her mother?”
“Of course I am. I gave birth to the both of you. I am hers as much as I am yours.”
I shake my head, pressing my lips together as I refrain from saying things I would regret eventually.
I am here for closure, or so I keep telling myself. I haven’t spoken to this woman in sixteen years, and it never seemed as though she cared much about not knowing how her son was doing.
As much as I removed her from my life, a part of me still stayed with her. There’s always been this part of me that had hopes. Hopes that she might come back into my life, apologize for the things she’s done, apologize for her stubbornness, her pride. But the apology never came, never will come.
“Lily is dating your friend, isn’t she? I thought he was the gay one at first, but then it was only the brown-haired one,” Victoria says, almost making me choke on my own saliva.
Alright. So, she has been stalking me and my friend group, wow. That is… insane. Disgusting.
Besides. “None of my friends are gay.” At least not that I know of it. Grey isn’t labelled, he just dates whoever he feels like. And I believe it’s disrespectful to put a label on him when he himself doesn’t do it.
“Sure one is. I saw him with a guy. It was very strange seeing that.”
“Strange?” I think my eyes just popped out of my head.
She nods. “It’s unnatural.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Fuck you.”
She gasps. “Don’t talk to your mother like that.”
“Don’t be homophobic then.”
“I am your mother, Aaron, whether you like it or not. So treat me with some respect.” She waves me off, obviously being done with the topic and me calling her a homophobe. If I didn’t have a reason to despise her already, I sure as hell would have one now.
I would leave, but I have questions. A lot of them.
My father answered as many as he could but getting answers about my mother from the woman herself, it might give me the peace I need.
“There is a difference between giving birth and being a mother.” I didn’t come here to criticize her parenting. She’s a shitshow of a mother, we all know that. “Why did you never try to get in touch with me?”
She shrugs. “Your father wouldn’t let me.”
“Bullshit.” My father tried everything to stay in touch with Lily. He tried everything to let me stay in touch with my own sister. He had custody over the both of us. Full custody over me and shared one over my sister. He was legally meant to have my sister every other week, and yet he had to settle for seeing her every Sunday for a couple of hours only. All because my so-called mother was being difficult. “I want the truth.”
“Aaron, it is the truth. Your father wanted me to stay away from you, so I did.”
“You’re a shitty liar.” And that she is. The lies might roll easily off her tongue, but the twitch on her face says anything but. “Why didn’t you want me in your life?”
She looks away from me, and quite frankly, I’m not mad about it. I don’t need the eyes of my birthmother on me now when she didn’t try to look at me growing up either.
Suddenly, I can hear the faint escape of breath from her lungs as she collects her thoughts. “I’m sure you’re aware of the fact that your father and I split everything in half after our fall-out.”
Their divorce. It wasn’t just a “fall-out”.
“I’m aware.” And yet, separating children, treating them like objects isn’t exactly what I’d call great parenting… from either of my parents. They should have known better. Though, I do know my father tried his very best to keep both children in his life, unlike a certain mother.
“I couldn’t have given you the life you wanted, Aaron. All the hockey practice and extra ice-time was far too expensive. Your father, however, he could give you all that.” She sighs deeply, wiping away a tear that never even threated to slip out of her eyes. “You were always a good child, but I could do far more with your sister. I knew how to handle girls. I knew how to take care of her. With you… you had greater interest in your father anyway. I wouldn’t have wanted to force you away from him.”
Am I the only one noticing that she doesn’t make any fucking sense? How could Lily live with her? All her life, too. I’m here for an hour and almost lose my mind. Lily has lived with her for good eighteen years. Until she moved into the dorms to get out.
I finally understand why she desperately wanted to get out.
For years I’ve been making fun of my sister for living at the dorms when our mother lived close by, and she could’ve easily taken the bus to school or drove herself when she’s got a car. I also could have picked her up and drove her. Then again, our father lives close as well, I, too, could have stayed home. Difference is, however, I moved in with my best friend, off-campus.
“Long story short, you just weren’t interested in me, Victoria.” I say what she wouldn’t. She doesn’t deny nor confirm, but staying silent is enough of an answer, don’t you think?
“I always knew what you were up to.” Her voice is surprisingly low, filled with regret and guilt.
Something strange tugs on my heart. It’s not sympathy for her, or anything that shows I have any kind of love for this woman inside of me. It’s hatred. There’s nothing I feel but hate for her.
The woman that was supposed to raise me, love me, care for me… the same one that threw me away like I was never her child had the guts to follow up on me, yet she could never reach out to me.
Knowing that doesn’t make me feel sad, it makes me angry.
“Good for you, Victoria.” I stand, being done with this conversation. I may not have gotten the questions answered I’ve came here with, nor did I get to voice them… but I got one answer, the one I needed the most.
My mother never cared about me, will never care, and even though she might pretend to feel guilty, she doesn’t want to change anything.
That’s enough for me to be done with her.
I never truly had the desire to have her in my life. Sure, when I was younger, I was sad she was gone, but it wasn’t like I was missing her as much as I should have. And now that I am an adult, being able to understand what went down between my parents, understanding that my own mother never had the desire to be close to me, it closes the chapter for good.
