When I was nine, my mother left me in the care of strangers, promising she’d return once she got back on her feet. For years, I waited in foster homes, clinging to hope that she’d come back—but she never did. I grew up learning to make myself small, hiding the pain of abandonment while trying to build a life of my own.
At 27, I had a daughter and a home filled with love and stability—everything I never had. But then, out of the blue, my mother showed up at my door, homeless and asking for help. She didn’t ask how I was or acknowledge the years she’d lost with me; instead, she acted like I owed her something, demanding shelter without remorse for the past.
Though I let her stay, her true colors soon emerged—harsh words, cold comments, and even attempts to turn my daughter against me. The woman who once abandoned me now threatened the peace I fought so hard to create. Eventually, I had to ask her to leave, knowing some wounds run too deep for forgiveness.
Now, I protect my daughter fiercely and have learned that being a parent means giving love unconditionally—not just expecting it. The cycle of pain ends with me, and I’m committed to breaking it for Emma’s sake.