Twenty years had changed her. She was now dressed in designer clothes and had an expensive haircut, but I still recognized her. She apologized for not being there for my grandmother’s funeral and claimed to regret abandoning me. She wanted to be in my life again, and I hesitantly agreed to give her a chance.
At first, it felt like a healing reunion. We went for lunches, looked at old photos, and talked about the past. But something didn’t feel right. Her constant texting during our visits and avoiding questions about her life after leaving me raised suspicion.
One evening, while she was in the bathroom, her phone buzzed with a preview message that caught my eye. I couldn’t resist checking, and what I discovered broke my heart. My mother, Evelyn, was using me to portray herself as a loving mother to win over a wealthy single father, Richard. She had no intention of being in my life for real.
I couldn’t confront her, so I gave her the shoebox of childhood drawings I had cherished for years. She cried and promised to never leave me again, but I knew her tears were empty. When she left the next morning, the shoebox was forgotten on the guest bed.
I stopped answering her calls, and she showed up at my apartment, pleading at the door. But for the first time, I felt a sense of peace in my decision to distance myself from her. I remembered my grandmother’s words, “You are a strong, capable young woman, Alexa. Never forget your worth.”
I chose to let go of the mother who only returned for her own convenience. I chose myself, my peace, my worth, and the legacy of love that my grandmother had left behind. As I let go of the shoebox, I knew I was choosing the right path for me.