Motherhood and Family in This Could Be Us: Fierce Love, Healing, and Redefining Home
Introduction
In Kennedy Ryan’s This Could Be Us, motherhood is not a static role but a catalytic force that drives the protagonist, Soledad Barnes, toward self-reclamation and fierce, unyielding love. The thematic claim woven through the novel is that authentic maternal love requires a foundation of self-love, and that family—whether by blood, choice, or circumstance—can be both a site of profound vulnerability and a source of transformative strength. Soledad’s journey, as well as Judah Cross’s devotion to his autistic twin sons, demonstrates that protecting those we love often means first learning to protect ourselves.
From Crisis to Commitment: Soledad’s First Act of Protection
The story opens with Soledad’s world shattered: her husband Edward is arrested for embezzlement and infidelity, and she is left to explain to her three daughters—Lupe, Inez, and Lottie—that their father will not be coming home. In a raw, painful scene, Soledad gathers the girls in the living room and, when Lottie asks who will take care of them, answers without hesitation: “I’ll take care of us.” She does not know how, but she commits. This moment marks the first pivot in her definition of motherhood—from one that relied on Edward’s provision to one that depends entirely on her own resilience. Even as Inez bluntly reminds her that she “doesn’t have a job,” Soledad refuses to let shame or uncertainty weaken her resolve. She later tells her friends that she cannot protect Edward’s reputation; she will only protect her daughters from the lies.
This early crisis establishes that for Soledad, mothering means telling hard truths and absorbing the emotional fallout. The betrayal forces her to confront not only Edward’s crimes but also her own complicity in ignoring red flags. Yet she channels that shame into action, immediately seeking therapy for both herself and the girls, determined to give them tools to process their father’s absence. The theme of protective honesty runs deep: she will not let the girls believe Edward is a good man when he is not.
Building a New Foundation: Career, Culture, and Modeling Self-Worth
As Soledad rebuilds her life, she transforms her domestic skills into a career as a content creator—turning the very work of homemaking into a source of income and identity. In a pivotal scene at Inez’s school, where she is invited to speak about her career, Soledad tells the students that making a home for her girls is “vocationally valid,” that the work of feeding, cleaning, and managing a family deserves cultural recognition. This public reframing is not only for the audience; it is for herself. She is reclaiming the value of the unpaid labor she has done for years, and she models for her daughters that a woman can be both a mother and an independent professional.
The complex relationship with Inez highlights the tension in this transition. Inez, the middle daughter, struggles most with their new life. She accuses Soledad of limiting her gaming time, and during one argument she dismisses her mother’s Cornell education because “the major thing you accomplished at Cornell was meeting Dad.” Soledad does not lash back; instead she holds space for Inez’s anger while refusing to let her daughter diminish her worth. This confrontation becomes a teaching moment—Soledad shows that a mother’s love does not require her to absorb disrespect, and that true care sometimes means setting firm boundaries.
Cultural heritage also anchors Soledad’s mothering. The recipes she shares online, such as the Picadillo included at the novel’s end, are not just meals but inheritances. They connect her to her Puerto Rican roots and to her own mother, whose diaries she later discovers. The hornet metaphor from those diaries—that her mother was a hornet, not a butterfly—becomes a lens for Soledad to understand that a woman can be both fierce and tender, protective and loving. The Puerto Rican flag, present in the story, reinforces this cultural identity as a foundation for family strength.
Healing and Blended Family: The Epilogue’s Legacy of Self-Love
By the epilogue, Soledad has come full circle. She learns that Edward has fled the country, and rather than rage, she feels relief. She weeps “cleansing tears” and curls into Judah, understanding that his choice to let Edward escape rather than confront him was an act of love—he wanted Edward out of her and her daughters’ lives for good. This acceptance marks Soledad’s emotional maturity: she no longer needs to destroy the source of her pain; she can let it go.
The lesson she finds in her mother’s diaries crystallizes in her own words: “You can risk loving completely when you completely love yourself.” This is the core of the thematic claim. Soledad’s motherhood was always fierce, but it was initially defensive. Now she can mother from a place of wholeness. She also embraces a blended family with Judah, who brings his twin sons Adam and Aaron into the mix. Judah’s own journey as a father to autistic boys—one with high support needs (Aaron, level 3) and one with more independent challenges (Adam, level 1)—adds another dimension to the definition of family. His ex-wife Tremaine’s selfless offer to take the house so Judah can have primary custody shows that family love sometimes takes unexpected, generous forms.
The symbol of the machete appears when Soledad, upon hearing of Edward’s escape, briefly imagines finding something of his to destroy. The machete represents her protective anger—the willingness to cut away threats. But she sets it aside, choosing instead to hold Judah. The machete transforms from a weapon into a symbol of discernment: knowing when to fight and when to release. The Rubik’s Cube, another symbol in the novel, might be seen to represent the complex, twisting puzzle of family dynamics that Soledad learns to solve not by force but by patience.
Complexity and Contradiction: The Messy Truth of Motherhood
Ryan does not idealize motherhood. Soledad struggles with guilt over not being able to protect her daughters from Edward’s betrayal, and she admits to her friends that she cannot bring herself to confess the full scope of her foolishness. Inez’s rebellion is not easily resolved; it takes time and therapy. The blended family dinners—where Soledad’s daughters, Judah’s sons, and their respective extended families learn to share a table—are not seamless. There is awkwardness, suspicion, and the weight of past wounds. Yet Ana, Judah’s mother, offers warmth, and Soledad’s friends Yasmen and Hendrix provide a chosen family that supports her unconditionally. The novel suggests that family is not only about blood or legal ties but about the people who show up consistently.
The author’s note reveals that Ryan’s own experience as a mother of an autistic son shaped this story. She writes that her son is a “gentle giant” whose life speaks. This personal context enriches the portrayal of Judah’s fatherhood: it is patient, observant, and without comparison between his sons. Aaron communicates through a device, and when he uses it to say “Stay with me,” both his parents honor his agency. This moment redefines family decision-making as inclusive of even the least verbal members.
Study Questions and Answers
1. How does Soledad’s response to Inez’s accusation that she “doesn’t have a job” illustrate the novel’s view of maternal labor?
Answer: Soledad does not defend herself with anger but later reframes homemaking as “vocationally valid.” The novel argues that the work of raising children and maintaining a home is economically and emotionally valuable, even when it has been culturally devalued. Soledad’s career as a content creator directly monetizes this labor.
2. In what ways does the hornet metaphor from Soledad’s mother’s diaries challenge traditional ideals of passive motherhood?
Answer: The hornet represents a woman who protects fiercely and loves actively—not a docile “butterfly.” Soledad learns that her mother could love two men and her children completely because she loved herself first. This metaphor reframes strength and self-love as essential components of maternal care.
3. How does Judah’s relationship with his autistic sons Adam and Aaron expand the definition of family in the novel?
Answer: Judah meets each son where he is, without comparing their needs. He respects Aaron’s non‑verbal communication (using a device to say “Stay with me”) and supports Adam’s intellectual curiosity. The parenting plan shows that family structure can be flexible and that both biological parents can prioritize their children’s well‑being over their own conflict.
4. Contrast Soledad’s initial reaction to Edward’s betrayal with her final response to his escape. What does this shift reveal about her growth?
Answer: Initially, Soledad feels shame and wants to hide the full truth. By the epilogue, she feels relief that Edward is gone and no longer needs to seek revenge (she sets aside the impulse to use the machete). This shows she has moved from a defensive, reactive mothering to a grounded, self‑secure love that trusts in her own ability to provide safety.
5. How does the symbol of the machete evolve in connection with Soledad’s maternal identity?
Answer: The machete first appears as a visceral desire to destroy something Edward loves. But Soledad chooses not to act on that impulse. The machete becomes a symbol of protective anger that she learns to temper with discernment. Ultimately, her fierceness is channeled into building a safe home rather than attacking threats.