I’ve never lived with my mom and I don’t see her as much as I’d like, but we try to have dinner together every now and then. I love her and respect her, despite the distance between us.
On the other hand, things were not easy for me at home with my dad and stepmom, and it got worse. My complicated relationship with my stepmom hit a breaking point when she called my mom “a disaster” for the millionth time. I told my dad, “Make her stop, or I’m leaving.” He didn’t even look at me. He was silent, so I packed a bag and left. I thought if he really cared about me, he would try to stop me, but he did not.
I made a shocking discovery.
My plan was to stay with my mom for a while, deepen our relationship, and find a place for myself that I could afford. When I rang my mom’s doorbell, it wasn’t she who answered. It was a man who looked at me with a confused expression.
I said my name and asked for my mom. He replied, “You must have the wrong house. No one by that name has ever lived here.” I was confused but it was late, so I went to my aunt’s house instead, not wanting to go back to my dad’s place. When I told her everything, I couldn’t help but cry uncontrollably.
My aunt tried to console me and gave me a hug. She then said that she thinks now I’m old enough to know the truth. It made my heart drop but I told her to tell me everything she knows. She revealed the house doesn’t belong to my mom, my dad gave me the wrong address. She never wanted me and left me when I was born. She didn’t have anywhere to live and was always asking for shelter from friends and people she barely knew. My dad paid for her to have dinner with me now and then, and he was the one who bought the gifts she’d send me on special occasions.
The tension with my stepmom had come up because she wanted to tell me the truth, and he didn’t. I felt so bad. I went back home in the morning. We all sat down—my dad, my stepmom, and I. We talked. We cried. The pain of betrayal still lingered, but I started to understand why my dad had hidden the truth.
Forgiveness is a process, and I’m still navigating it. I forgave my dad for his deception because I knew he was only trying to protect me. As for my mom, I’m still trying to process the fact that she wasn’t the person I thought she was. She has been trying to call me now but I just don’t know what to do. Do I forgive her? Should I listen to what she has to say?
Source: brightside.me