Confide in Me

When I was 14-years-old my mother complained I never confided in her.

“Rachel tells her mother everything,” she whined, “you never tell me anything.”

Rachel was one year older than me and a family friend. Her mother exuded a big sister vibe, the kind of big sister you would trust with all your secrets.

A few weeks later we were all at a community festival when I spotted the boy from school I had a crush on. I snuck up behind my mother, whispered in her ear and pointed him out.

“Him?” she exclaimed, “he’s ugly!”

I never confided in her again.

The above is part of a flash fiction series titled I Never exploring the dynamics of mother daughter relationships.



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