When I was nine, my mother left me with strangers, promising she’d come back. But she never did. Two years in foster care taught me that hope can be dangerous. By thirteen, I stopped waiting.
Years later, I had my own daughter, Emma. I vowed she’d never feel abandoned like I did. Life was finally good — until one night, my mother showed up at my door, homeless and asking for help.
I let her in, hoping to break the cycle. But her bitterness and harsh words quickly surfaced. When she tried to turn Emma against me, I knew I had to protect my daughter.
I packed my mother’s things and told her to leave. She said, “Family is all you have.” I replied, “Love is all you have — and you lost mine long ago.”
Now, I’m the mother Emma deserves. The cycle ends with me.
