Today, my mother said something that set my soul on fire. She told me that in the future, she never wants to be involved in any “drama” again. That I should have my own place, that my man should have his own, and that I shouldn’t stay with a man unless he marries me.
And just like that, I felt her judgment once more. The familiar sting of her criticism, the belief that my choices were wrong. She said I needed to retrace my steps—go back, reassess what went wrong, and see how I ended up in this situation. It’s always easy to say “you should’ve done this” or “you should’ve done that.” But she doesn’t see the full picture. She doesn’t know the pain of walking through life always second-guessing yourself, always thinking you’re not enough, but still finding the strength to keep going.
When she said living together before marriage was a mistake, I couldn’t help but wonder: What’s next? Are you going to say I had the baby too soon, moved in too quickly? She said, “No, the baby isn’t a mistake,” and I wanted to believe her, but the words she didn’t say hit harder. I’ve never thought for a second that my daughter was a mistake. She saved me. She gave me life when I was standing on the edge. My daughter taught me what it means to truly fight for something, for someone.
But even when I said that, when I explained that every decision I made was based on the information I had at the time, she still couldn’t see. How could she? How could anyone understand the complexities of a situation when they’ve never walked in your shoes? I didn’t need to retrace my steps, because I’ve already done that a thousand times. What I needed was support, not judgment.
And when she accused me of punishing myself for him, that’s when the weight of it all started to feel unbearable. I’m not punishing myself. I’m taking a break—for me. I need a break from everything: from relationships, from heartache, from pressure. I need space to heal, to focus on my daughter and what’s best for her future. I’m not obsessed with finding a steady guy, and I told her that. If one comes along, great, but if not, I’ll be fine.
But of course, she couldn’t hear me. She just shut down, pretended to sleep, and left me with nothing but her silence.
I hate that she made me feel like I’m the one who’s failed. Like I’m the one who’s to blame for everything. I know she’s judged me for being with him—he’s not rich, not highly educated, doesn’t live in a big modern house. She’s always seen what he’s not, never what he is. But here’s the truth: I’ve sacrificed so much for her, taken care of her without hesitation, no questions asked. I’ve never sought recognition, never asked for anything in return. All I’ve ever wanted is empathy, support, and for someone to stand by me when I’m broken.
I’ve carried so much on my shoulders, for so long, that sometimes it feels like I’m drowning. I’ve given everything—time, money, energy—without a thought for myself. And now, when I need someone to just be there, when I’m exhausted and depleted, she turns away.
She’ll never be proud of me, I know that now. But what I can’t accept is how she judges me, how she belittles the choices I’ve made, when she’s been stuck in her own cycle of pain for so many years. She stayed in a marriage where she was constantly cheated on, a marriage that tore her apart, but she never left. She stayed because of what people would think, because of the shame, the fear of judgment. And yet here she is, telling me I should’ve done things differently.
I see it for what it is now—I am not her, and I don’t want to be. I won’t stay in something for the wrong reasons. I won’t make the same choices she did.
My daughter has shown me the kind of strength I never knew I had. She’s taught me what it means to fight, to stand tall, even when it feels impossible. I’ll keep fighting, for her and for myself, no matter who tries to bring me down.
Adulting & Motherhood 