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Darcy, like many, had assumed adulthood came with more innate confidence - that the appropriate response in most situations would be obvious and easy to choose almost all the time - but that was not the case. So much is still ambiguous and confusing.
Darcy had worried it meant something was wrong with her for a long time. But getting let go from one too many customer service jobs and, as a result, choosing to try therapy whilst on the dole had shaken her from some of that thinking. Reckoning with the abuse and intolerance of her parents, being more intentional about building up her queer community - she’d done a lot of healing.
And then she met Tara and fell in love, really experiencing an unconditional acceptance for the first time.
And then she finally went to uni and got her qualified teacher status, specialising in early years, alongside her bachelor’s in sociology so she could take on a position in reception at a primary school in town.
And life began to make a little more sense.
But she still feels like an unmoored teenager more often than she likes. Sometimes she even still feels like something is wrong with her, like missing a phantom limb or having a mysterious itch. Approaching thirty-five with this much vague insecurity has her drifting mentally, even more than usual. Her ADHD meds might be losing their effectiveness or… she just might need to return to therapy.
But today she’s at this child development conference at some posh resort in the Lake District and she’s eavesdropping on three different conversations at lunch in the crowded dining room when someone steps up to the microphone and sets off a moment of staticky feedback.
After the room recovers, the person apologises and explains that they were supposed to have entertainment from a regional dance troupe before the next round of classes but two of the members are missing. Darcy notices she’s holding her breath as the news sinks in; the other attendees appear to be also.
The matronly figure on the small stage continues. “Since we’re broadcasting this announcement all over the venue, I want to address them directly. Girls, you’ve had your fun. It’s time to stop playing hide and seek. If you can hear me, you must come out and report to the nearest adult.”
Darcy is still barely breathing. The room is so silent as everyone waits to see if that strategy worked. Something faintly nauseated starts to slosh in Darcy’s abdomen.
After what feels like an eternity but is probably only a minute or two, the speaker sighs. “Okay. We’ve got security and others looking. You all can attend your afternoon sessions. We will let you know when they’re found. Thank you for your attention.”
But Darcy’s only half-listening, lost in the sensations burbling up her torso. She can’t move past this. Too many alarm bells are ringing in her head. Something about the way it’s all been framed… it’s not right.
She throws her linen napkin down on her half-empty plate and shoves her chair back, slinking off to the nearest exit and finding a corner of the large central courtyard where she can sit on a bench and breathe through the upset. Closing her eyes, she rocks there slightly, willing her body to calm down. These children are not her responsibility; everything will be fine.
It’s not working. She gives up with a harsh huff of air and rises to her feet, hands clenched into fists at her sides. Shaking her head, she resolves to just retreat to her room, maybe call her girlfriend. But once she opens the door, the first thing she sees is the huge straw sun hat she brought in hopes of a lakeside stroll.
Yes, she needs to walk off this nervous energy! She yanks the hat off the hook and turns on her heel, beelining for the edge of the hotel grounds where there’s a rustic trail down to the shore.
Standing at the cusp of the hill, both hands gripping the top of the sun hat where a sudden breeze is threatening to steal it off her head, Darcy takes in the gorgeous view on this beautiful day.
Puffy white clouds are scudding quickly across an azure sky. Green hills surround a long, narrow lake which is a gray-blue darker than the heavens reflecting on its choppy surface. The slope between Darcy’s long billowing dress and the water is covered in undulating golden cowslips, clusters of flower heads bobbing at the ends of their graceful necks in a patchy blanket of yellow and chartreuse.
And there, tiny at this distance, are two small bodies kneeling in the mud where miniscule waves are lapping at the land.
Darcy’s chest heaves, too many emotions swirling inside for one person to hold. The dirt path becomes a blur below the sturdy ankle boots eccentrically paired with this charity-shop frock. The earth tilts on its axis, throwing Darcy down to the water’s edge in the blink of an eye.
The children are standing and looking startled as Darcy rumbles to a stop several steps away, hat brim now clutched in one trembling grip with its pink ribbon flapping almost loose. Pausing to relieve desperate lungs, Darcy tries to remember lessons about emergencies and trauma.
But then the older child smiles easily and waves with one wet hand. “I’m Satsuki and this is Mei. Do you want to play mermaids with us? She’s the queen!”
Mei has brown pigtails and a chubby body just starting to stretch out. Darcy thinks she’s probably six. The little girl’s chin juts down firmly. “You can’t be a mermaid!” She gestures to Satsuki with a scornful look. “She’s not in charge. I am!” She pokes herself in the chest with a muddy thumb.
Darcy exchanges a silent, amused look with the taller one, who appears to be ten or so, with dark, shoulder-length hair escaping its performance-ready gelled-back hold.
“Oh… yeah, okay. What role do I get then, your majesty?”
Mei thinks a moment before her eyes light up. “You can be my bodyguard! We’re fighting sharks!” Darcy nods and drops to the ground to remove the ankle boots and tie the dress hem up around pale, freckled thighs. Such a simple change but Darcy’s now-bare legs feel like a revelation today.
Both of the girls are wearing flowy white gowns that would have looked nice whirling around the conference stage but are now streaked with dirt. Darcy sees blush-coloured slippers discarded in the plants nearby. These girls don’t look like they’ve snuck away on purpose and they’re certainly not kidnapping victims. Darcy’s current theory is that Mei got bored waiting to perform and convinced her sister to play instead. Darcy can relate.
Joining them in the cool water, the teacher delights in the contrast of warm sun and crisp breeze and the slight numb climbing up to erase the previous churning. This… this is nice. Maybe Darcy should be encouraging these two to return up the hill right away but… it just seems impossible.
The way the lake stretches out and the hills hold them all in a gentle embrace… the way the wind plays with their hair and the light kisses their skin…
This is freedom and joy and creativity and everything Darcy’s soul has been craving.
The game resumes and Darcy embraces the assignment, adopting a gruff voice and fierce mannerisms which seem to enrapture the two mermaids. Assembling this bodyguard character from bits and bobs, Darcy is weaving memories of a favourite uncle and impressions of a friendly janitor and a little longing for permission to fully assert one’s will. Sharks are defeated and songs are sung, Satsuki’s voice soaring into the atmosphere like a helium balloon released from its tether. Darcy hasn’t been so happy since early days with Tara.
Maybe contentment is not enough. Maybe it’s okay to want more out of life than a decent job and a harmonious romantic relationship. Maybe Darcy’s not selfish nor greedy for wanting to scratch that confounding itch which lives down in the bone, unreachable and frustrating.
The thoughts are jangling together, crashing against invisible barriers as the three of them riff and expand on each other’s storytelling. The bodyguard… why had Darcy just made him a him? What is this stereotype’s purpose and why does it feel like something’s settling into sediment next to the itch’s source? Where is this euphoria coming from?
Darcy flings gender off like a stifling cloak and dances in the tender ripples of the lake. The girls whoop and holler and cling to Darcy’s sides, laughing and improvising a whole ceremony where the queen bestows the rank of bard-knight-baron on the blonde. Then there’s a merry chase after an invisible mass of dust motes and a new song where Darcy has to approximate the tones of a pan flute.
Flopping onto some grass, Darcy still hears an echoing melody as the girls fold into small balls on either side under Darcy’s wide-open arms. Staring up into the dome of the sky, there’s a moment where just the music exists - no thoughts nor worries.
“Good bard,” coos Mei, one plump hand patting at Darcy’s stomach.
Satsuki rolls back a little as she catches her breath. “Yeah, you’re fun. You should play with us again. Maybe you can call our parents. What’s your name anyway?”
Darcy snorts. “Oh yeah. I’m Darcy. Darcy Olsson. I teach reception. I’m supposed to be up there learning more about children’s brains.”
Mei frowns. “I’m Year One and we got to leave school today but then Mrs Davies said we had to wait in that little room and be sooooo quiet and I got wiggley so we asked to go to the loo and there was this window and I saw the hills and we had to go there so I made Satsuki take me outside.” She looks up at Darcy imploringly. “They won’t be mad, right? We had to.”
Darcy isn’t sure what to say and looks at the older sister helplessly. Satsuki pouts out her lower lip and blows air up her face so that her fringe flutters a little on her broad forehead. “They might be mad, Mei Mei. But it will be worth it, yeah?”
Eyes on the clouds, the three of them contemplate the cost benefit ratio of a perfect afternoon. The girls don’t seem extraordinarily worried about getting in trouble so Darcy pushes those initial concerns aside. These aren’t abused kids escaping at the first opportunity. They’re just having an adventure.
As they lay there drying out and soaking up the warmth of the sun, Darcy’s thoughts drift back to a childhood so different from this. One of rigid expectations, neglect and intolerance. One that inspired fantastical daydreams and actual running away from home. At Satsuki’s age, Darcy wasn’t playing games like this anymore. Those didn’t come back until later, after leaving and learning to trust again.
That’s when Darcy had first bloomed, reclaiming whimsy and loudness and a persona that practiced confidence until it looked real. Looking back, it’s clear more growth was needed. It feels cyclical. Maybe humans grow more like trees than wildflowers, in bursts of seasonal energy but ongoing. Maybe it’s okay Darcy still has things to learn.
“Darcy… that’s not a girl’s name,” Mei suddenly pronounces, apropos of nothing.
Darcy blinks. “It’s not?”
Satsuki hums thoughtfully. “Maybe they’re nonbinary like our neighbour Leaf.”
Mei nods. “That makes sense.”
“It does?” Darcy asks breathlessly.
The girls don’t answer. Mei whines that she’s hungry and they both get up to look around for their shoes. Darcy just lays there, mind stuck on “they’re nonbinary” like a looping roundabout going too fast and making the occupants’ faces a blur. There’s always that one father who likes to keep it spinning even after the kids complain and the other parents in the park look uncomfortable. Darcy hates those kind of men and the way they radiate resentment from the prison of their own minds.
Darcy sits up abruptly. “I’m nonbinary!”
The girls glance over and then shrug. Darcy starts to laugh, the tightness of their belly loosening with every guffaw. Peace sinks into their bones, under their skin.
Satsuki and Mei wait them out, friendly expressions but restless feet. Darcy drags their socks and shoes back on and jumps up.
“Okay, I’m ready! Shall we?”
And the three of them begin the work of trudging up the hill, more effort than the reverse. Darcy slows to match short legs; it lets them converse as they go.
“When we get up there, I’ll talk to your troupe leader and give her my number. Then your parents can contact me if they want. I’d love another playdate but it’s up to them, okay?”
The sisters nod. The chat turns to more fairytales they all want to act out, favourite movies and how long they’ve been taking dance lessons. Finally they step into the courtyard and Darcy handles the handoff, as promised. Mei offers a hug and Darcy accepts. Satsuki waves goodbye.
Later, Darcy’s collapsing backwards on their resort bed and looking at the picture of Tara kissing their cheek on the lockscreen of their mobile. Well, may as well come out again, right? No time like the present…
Darcy bites their top lip with their bottom teeth, inexplicably nervous again. This is so new!
Isn’t it?
They shake their head. No, not really. This explains so much. Memories get dragged up, examined, recontextualised.
Darcy looks at their lockscreen again. They frown.
“Wait… am I still a lesbian?!”
They sigh and let their arms drop to the mattress, spread wide. Their phone bounces up by the pillows.
After several externally quiet minutes, they shake their head again. “Okay, fine. I can use sapphic. That’s nice and broad. Hi, I’m Darcy. I’m nonbinary and sapphic. I only date women.”
Darcy frowns again. What if Tara ever comes out as nonbinary? Are these words gonna lock them into some new rigid set of expectations? Darcy doesn’t want that.
Crap, what if Tara doesn’t want to be sapphic and lesbian doesn’t feel right anymore?! What if they break up because…
Darcy gulps.
…what if Tara doesn’t want to date someone nonbinary?
They groan and close their eyes, hands coming up to cover their face.
They are being ridiculous. Tara would never be so close-minded. Darcy just needs to call her, get it over with. Everything will be fine.
They roll over and crawl after the phone. Soon they’re on a video call with their giddy girlfriend.
“Hi, babe! How’s the conference? I miss you!”
Darcy smiles at the gorgeous love of their life grinning on the screen cradled in both palms.
“Hi! I miss you too. It’s… fine. I actually skiived off this afternoon to play at the lake with some kids and have a gender crisis.”
Tara’s eyebrows shoot up. “Did you?!” Her voice is rich and amused and still loving.
Darcy smiles, shoulders relaxing. “Yeah.” They duck their head and waggle it sheepishly. “So ummm… I’m nonbinary.”
Tara squeals and leans down to kiss her phone right over the camera. Darcy chortles, relieved but not surprised.
“And I love you just the same,” Tara assures them immediately. Darcy can feel the heat of a blush climbing their cheeks.
“And I love you,” they boop the screen with a single fingertip, “so much.”
They whisper sweet nothings to each other for a while, Darcy asks Tara to use they and them pronouns “to try it out” and they discuss their plans for the weekend. They end up talking through Darcy’s dinner getting delivered and eaten. Finally Darcy sighs and says they need a shower before bed. They giggle and blow kisses. They stare at each other.
“You’re- you’re really okay with it,” Darcy says, wonder in their tone.
Tara just tilts her head fondly, already knowing where the conversation has returned. “Of course. I don’t care what words you use for yourself… or what you wear or how you do your hair, for that matter. If you want to explore all that, be my guest. I love your lightning brain and your planet-size heart. I’m in love with you, the person.”
Darcy blinks slowly, absorbing it all. “I am… so in love with you.” They wrinkle their nose. “I’m so lucky.”
Tara shrugs. “Yeah,” she says teasingly, “but so am I.” Darcy snorts and nods.
“The words don’t matter as much as this,” they gesture so Tara can see their hand pointing back and forth between them, “our relationship.”
Tara grins. “Right. Words aren’t as real as us. We humans just make them up. We’re always making up new words or debating the ones we have. They’re not the boss of us.”
Darcy grins right back. “Right.”
Tara nods emphatically. Darcy mirrors her. They burst out laughing at the same time. Darcy wishes they could hug and kiss her right now but settles for a few more minutes of pillow talk. Finally they hang up.
As Darcy gets cleaned up and ready for bed, images from the day flash through their mind. What a miraculous experience. What an unexpected twist of fate. What a blessing, to be gifted a day of magical growth. New understanding shooting out of the ground like a wildflower after rainfall. After they lie down and get comfortable, a green mist falls through their mind, bringing comfort and joy. As they succumb to sleep, Darcy has one more thought. Maybe adulthood isn’t exactly what they thought it would be but that’s okay because lifelong learning sounds better anyway.