Boshemia columnist Ropa is in conversation with her two housemates about their experiences of growing up in single-parent households.
Isabel sips her hot chocolate while Diana eats toast.
‘Are you gonna use our names in it then?’ Diana asks.
‘I’ll use different names.’ I reassure her.
I place the recorder in the middle of us and the comfortable atmosphere morphs into an anxious silence. Isabel puts down her hot chocolate. She squirms in her seat, cheeks flushing. Diana becomes stern, her features fixating into still positions. I’ve known these girls and lived with them for three years now, but as soon as I put the recorder down a wall is built between me and them. As common as this is in modern society, its effects on us personally are something we rarely discuss as adults. Isabel makes a joke to lighten the awkward tension. She was always one to keep the room pleased. Continue reading