My mother’s disdain for the dating articles I write is maybe the one thing we have in common. I was placed on the beat when I first started at my job, mostly because I was the only one on staff who was actually in a stable relationship at the time. And even though I’ve now been with the same publication for eight years and it’s seen me through more than one breakup, I’m still stuck writing about love, when what I really want to be writing about is books and movies and television series, basically anything pop culture related. I’ve always found solace in stories, and the only relationships I really care about (aside from my own) are the ones I ship on my screen.

Not that my mom would find that kind of writing any more worthwhile; she’s never hid her contempt for my fandom obsessions.

“Well, I won’t keep you from your very important job that surely benefits millions, I just wanted to let you know I’m going to be traveling for the next month at least and my cell service will be spotty.” I don’t know if she means to come across as condescending, but she sure has no problem putting down both me and my job every time we speak. Which luckily isn’t too often.

“Setting up another girls’ school?” I try to cut the attitude from my tone because, you know, setting up a school for underprivileged children is not actually a bad thing and doesn’t deserve my sarcasm. Even if it means she’s always put other children before her own. Despite the fact that I’m thankful for my good fortune, it still would’ve been nice to have had a mom at home.

“Yes. I don’t suppose you would like to join me?”

“Some of us do have to work, Mom. You know, to pay our bills?” I take every opportunity to subtly remind her of her own immense privilege, mostly because I know it irks her.

My mother comes from money. And not like middle-class, invested-well money. Oil money. Big money. Money that, according to my mother, was earned by destroying the earth, and is therefore bad money. And I mean, she’s not wrong. Once her parents passed and she inherited the trust, she made it her mission to spend as much of that money doing good works as physically possible. Which makes it really hard to be mad at her. Aside from my college fund and the money for my house, which I’m extremely grateful for, she refuses to send anything more my way, channeling it all into charities.