YL told her boyfriend my news. Apparently, Los was taken aback, presumed that YL was in some distress over the recent developments and asked her what she was going to do. She replied, "what's to do? It's not like I'm going to come home and find her on the couch having sex with some woman, she's still my mom."
There it is. I'm still her mom. Still t o d, still the shy, slightly nerdy, wordy (with them and keyboards) home body list maker who enjoys hanging out with them, art, music, books home improvement shows and conquering lists.
Never-the-less, I am changing, awakening long dormant skills and muscles. I'm discovering new interests. Some, due to recent circumstances, like gardening. Some others because I'm allowing myself the freedom to breathe other air.
I've had pockets of happiness, even force feeding, at times as I deemed that vital to my survival. These days have me believing that continued survival will depend on having the entire outfit as often as possible; freely, openly and honestly.
Note to YL: You absolutely will not come home to find me on the couch sharing intimacies with a woman. I do believe that your mom would find a room with a bed and most likely, a door.