Letting Go
Each day, I live with the ache that I may not see my children again. We may not have another real conversation or moment of closeness.
That may be the outcome when children grow in a system that teaches them to diminish me, and when they have no outside support to question that story.
I can see how neatly the story lands if I’m “too much,” or if I “opted out.” But I didn’t opt out of love. I opted out of interactions that diminished me, and out of being judged for the pain I carried in response to that.
When my older son stopped by this week to pick up some belongings, he said, “OK then, I guess I’ll just keep working on myself.” The tone was pure “seeyuh.” Calm. Clean. Detached. His dad would be impressed.
It wasn’t confrontation. It wasn’t repair. It was distance dressed up as resolution.
It created a sense of closure without anything actually being closed. His lack of genuine interest made it clear that the decision had already been made somewhere else.
When I imagine the worst‑case scenarios — illness, death, finality — I feel no guilt for what I’ve said or done. My choices have always reflected prioritizing them. I feel no shame.
I cannot bridge a gap that was created by design, by people frustrated with my lack of reverence and submission. And bridging that gap requires mutual engagement. The cycle begs to repeat.
I don’t feel I have amends to make. I continue working on myself because I am here to grow, heal, and love.
I know I have been truthful, kind, loyal, and wholesome as a mother. Not perfect, but great in the years before the triangulation that crushed me.
My greatest regret is how much exposure they had to my pain, and how my reactions shaped their experience of me. It robbed them of access to parts of me that existed outside suffering. But I didn’t choose the pain. I did the best I could while living inside it.
I am neither proud nor ashamed. I accept what was. I accept what is.
And I accept that we may not find our way back to each other in this lifetime.
As I once said to my family of origin: My first choice is to heal with you. My second is to just heal.
I never stopped trying. And- I no longer accept the old belief that I should be grateful for whatever version of connection I’m handed. I’m choosing peace that doesn’t require self‑erasure. No more entanglement with anyone of the mindset that their peace and comfort matter more than others.
