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.

my wine.

I never became their mother in the way the world recognizes on forms, holidays, or family trees. I was not the woman who gave birth to them. I was not the name they defended when pride entered the room.

Pregnancy& Maternity

But I had been there.

I knew it. They knew it. Vanessa knew it most of all.

And when they asked where I went, the answer continue reading …