Yes Chelsea, Part 5 (Patreon)

*Chelsea Richter, age 16
“Hey, whatever. I’m not gonna complain about getting free stuff, but it’s supposed to be *your* birthday.”
Mom decided that for her 32nd birthday, we would make a trip to the fashion district downtown and just splurge on whatever we wanted. Contrary to her appearance, it turns out she’s actually really smart and does well at her job. After three other men at her job were promoted and then demoted again for not doing their job correctly, my mom finally got the position she basically already been doing for the last year and a half. At that meant a bonus and lots more money.


I can’t say that I hate it. It feels kinda shallow to just bond over just being able to buy more than most people do when they feel like it, but having the means to go out and actually DO things we wanna do has been super good for both of us. I don’t feel so pissed off all the time anymore and mom has been way more relaxed around me. We’ve been hanging out more and while it’s not like super bestie status, it’s nice to feel like my mom is a person I can just chill with without it being weird.


I do sort of think she’s throwing her money around a bit much instead of saving, but I just got $300 worth of makeup palettes and clothes for HER birthday, so I’m really not about to make a stand. If her being boujie means that I get to get my hair done and buy cute spoopy shit all the time then she can do whatever she wants. 


She was really worried that I thought she was trying to “buy” my affection at first and really wouldn’t hear it when I said I didn’t, but that didn’t stop her from parading through Macy’s trying to find me something that didn’t make me look like a cemetery intern, which was a little annoying. I never asked for her to buy me all this stuff when all I really wanted was to have her recognize me as an individual and not an extension of herself. For a while, everything I said and did was met with “Yeah, I knew you’d say that, you’re just like me” or “Yes, Chelsea, I know what it’s like to be 16 and think the world is ending whenever a guy doesn’t ask you out.”


And for the record, I DID tell her I had a thing for a guy at school, but I didn’t sit around AGONISING because he didn’t want me. I asked HIM out and he told me no, then went out with Violette like the following week. It was irritating, but now I know who my real friends are.

*Olivia Richter, age 32


“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got it. Besides, we both deserve this.”


Birthdays have never been a big deal for me. My mom wasn’t especially a fantastic caretaker and my dad was worse. My brother and sister were both older than me, and so I knew not to expect much when it came to gifts. It wasn’t that we were completely ignored on our birthdays. We threw parties and had cake and it was a nice time, but friends were never allowed over and my parents would sometimes end up fighting. Once, my dad pulled me away to the back room and told me to tell my mom that I didn’t want the Gamecube she got me so he could return it and not have to lose the money. Piece of shit got so mad at me when I wouldn’t. I just froze.


I vowed that I would never let myself turn out like my mom, and that I would never have to be dependent on any man for anything. I didn’t want to be owned by my husband. Mom didn’t really get it. She just told me I was being dramatic and that a good ass beating would get me to chill the fuck out when I talked back to them. It worked too. I would get scared and clam up and just….brood. I’d stay up all night reading Silver Raven Wolf’s Teen Witch spellbook that I stole from my friend who stole it from Barnes and Noble, trying to cast spells and incantations to make myself prettier and to have success in money so that I never had to deal with that shit again. I also tried a few love spells, but apparently a component for the spell was for me to be charismatic, outgoing, attractive, and interesting. No, really. The book said this with “Magic doesn’t just work like magic.” 

Yeah. No wonder my witch phase died off so hard.


All this to say: I never cared much about my birthday.  However, about a week before I turned 32, Chelsea came home just absolutely devastated and in absolute tears over some boy from school. I asked her what was wrong and she instantly started gushing about how she was into this guy Sergio, so she ended up asking him out. He said no, which was like…hurtful, you know? But she was fine.


But then on Monday of the following week, she found him making out with her beat friend who was all super bitchy and possessive and was like rubbing it in her face that she didn’t get him and it REALLY upset her. Honestly, I kinda think the guy is a piece of shit for letting that happen, but I figure he’ll get what he paid for when he realizes Violette is more than just a pair of heavy tits. She’s manipulative and mean, and is honestly just the fucking worst. Nice when she was a kid, but a HORRIBLE teen.


Anyways, I decided to dedicate my birthday to Chels instead. We went into the city, grabbed some food, and then bought a whole bunch of cute shit. I thought that she’d refuse to get anything that didn’t come from any of the goth-approved emo stores, but she damn near ripped Macy’s apart trying to find the outfit that looked best on her. That and seeing her face light up every five seconds in the Urban Decay store was pretty awesome. For such a grumpy girl, Chelsea likes her makeup. I ended up getting a few things myself, which was unexpected but not unwelcome. Seeing her go nuts for fashion made me a little hungry for retail therapy myself. Money and gifts and clothes aside, it was a proud parenting moment for me to see her mood pick up so much when she was so sad. I got to make my baby happy, and that makes me happy.