I sat across from my mother at the table in the Mexican restaurant, both of us holding up a large laminated menu. While I was eager to finally open up to her, I didn’t want to do it at the dorm. I wanted to get out of my personal space and get somewhere a bit more public. It just felt a little safer in a way. A bit more anonymous. I really wasn’t sure how I would segue into the conversation, so I just tried to keep an open mind and an open heart and see where it all lead.

My mother was a very sweet and well-meaning lady, smart and opinionated, though a bit close-minded in a way because of her intellect. As an English professor herself and a published writer, she was sort of used to being right all the time and that could prove difficult when having a real conversation with her. Behind that feeling of correctness, I imagine there was a bit of guilt she was trying to obscure. I say that because I was the same way. I was certainly my mother’s daughter.

“I can’t believe it’s been almost two months,” mused my mother, folding her menu and setting it down, smiling across the table at me. “It’s sure quiet around the house.”

“Really?” I said with sarcasm. “I’m not a very noisy person.”

“True,” she said. “It’s just… quiet without you around, walking through the kitchen, sitting with us in the living room. Are you liking being up here at school?” My mother grinned. “It’s probably nice to have a bit of freedom.”

“Definitely,” I said, looking down into my menu but not really reading the words. “I’ve really learned a lot about myself.”

“That’s a great thing about college,” she said. “Finding yourself.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

“Have you done anything exciting?” she asked. “You told me about your trip to Stratford over the phone. Have you expanded yourself in any other way?”

“I auditioned for a play,” I said shyly, setting my menu to the side. “I had to do a monologue and sing a song.”

“Very brave of you,” said my mother. “That definitely sounds like something out of your comfort zone.”

“I didn’t get the part” I said. “But just auditioning was exciting and new.”

“That’s great, dear,” she said, looking off, holding her hand up to get the waitress over.

“I’ve made a lot of friends,” I said offhandedly. “There are a lot of cool people in ALOHA.”

“Good afternoon,” said our waitress, a college student not much order than me, as she slipped up next to our table. “Are you ready to order?”

“I’ll have a taco salad with chicken,” said my mother. She looked over to me to let me know that it was my turn.

“Taco plate,” I said. “With avocado tacos.”

“Thank you, ladies,” said the waitress, pulling our menus from the table with a smile. “I’ll put those orders in for you right away.” She left us just as quickly as she’d arrived.

“What were you saying?” asked my mother. “Friends?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve made a lot of friends.” I was starting to feel like I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t come out to my mother. The juices of anxiety were coursing through me and it just didn’t feel like the appropriate time.

“Have you met any boys?” she said with a lilt in her voice. It was simply becoming too much to bear. My brain started firing off, thinking about all the different possibilities, thinking about how I’d explain myself, its focus primarily on how upset my mother would be.

“I—,” I began, pausing, looking away, feeling pain.

“Jennie?” asked my mother with concern. “Are you all right?”

Why did this have to be so hard? Lisa made it all seem so easy. I didn’t want to feel this guilt, this pressure, this feeling of letting down my mother. It made me feel like a bad daughter even though I knew that just wasn’t the case. I was just me. I could be no one else. There was nothing wrong with being a lesbian, it was perfectly fine and natural and it was just how God made me. But sitting there in front of my mother, with the utterance on the tip of my tongue, it felt like an impossible obstacle to overcome. It felt like pain.

“I—,” I said again, stammering, focusing on my breath. “I have something to tell you, mother,” I said finally.

“Okay,” she said cautiously, bracing herself in the