After twelve years of loving, helping, driving, paying, and showing up, my stepchildren told me, “You’re not the one who raised us.” So I finally stopped being the woman they only needed when life got hard. When they asked where I went, their mother knew the truth.
I hated that when something went wrong, I thought of calling you first.
At dinner, when Ethan said what he said, I felt powerful for a second. Like we were finally choosing Mom. But then you left, and everything changed, and I realized maybe we weren’t choosing her. Maybe we were punishing you for showing up when she didn’t.
