#aroacecore

On the street I used to live there are a bunch of little girls that run up and down and do a bunch of things like screeching at the top of their lungs happily at each other.

They also like to set up a table to sell things. They do this once or twice a month, especially in the summer.

One sweltering June (pride month, it's important) afternoon, I walked past them when walking my dog and noticed that they were selling pride flags they made out of baked clay. Right away, I wanted to buy all of them, but I liked supporting the fact that they decided to stand outside.

I told them how much I love the flags and they were delighted and asked me if I wanted to buy one.

I said no, not yet, but that if there were any left at 4PM (it was currently 2), then they should knock on my front door and I'd buy the rest of what they had.

Come 4, I answered the knock at the door with cash and a smile. There they were, excited to rid themselves of their wares, and excited that their babysitter wanted them. I happily handed them the money (including a few $1 coins which, in my opinion, they were not as excited as they ought to be, as I would've been at their age, but whatever).

I took their flags carefully and displayed them on my bookcase.

There was a trans one, bisexual one (what I identified as at the time, as many aroace do, well, biromantoc ace), a genderqueer one, and an aromantic one.

To be honest, I didn't know what the aromantic one was when I got it, and I didn't pay much attention to it.

After I got back from my freshman year of college (during which I came out as aromantic in addition to asexual) and noticed that one of the flags on my bookshelf was an aromantic one.

I'd had it around me for over a year before I realized that it was truly mine.

Fishblr: hello my child

Repulsed aroace: WHAT THE FUCK

Fishblr: