My boyfriend left me when I was pregnant because his mother didn’t like me. I’ve raised my son alone for 17 years. Today, I ran into his mother. She burst into tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “I’ve been looking for you all these years.”

“I’ve lived with this guilt every day of my life. And when I finally mustered the courage to look for you, I didn’t know where to begin. I lost track of you. You moved to a different neighborhood, a different job… I didn’t know if I wanted you to find me or if I was terrified you would.”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. Part of me burned with anger. Another part… was simply exhausted.

But something changed. A door that had been closed for over a decade had just swung open.

That night I couldn’t sleep. I sat at the kitchen table, with a glass of water I didn’t drink, staring into space while listening to the building’s nighttime noises. My ex-boyfriend’s mother’s confession kept replaying in my head, like a carousel I couldn’t stop.

My son came home late from a school meeting. I watched him walk in: tall, thin, with that calm smile that always managed to soothe my world. I didn’t know whether to tell him what had happened. I didn’t know if I had the right to keep it to myself, but I also didn’t know if he wanted to carry that burden.

“Mom, are you okay?” he asked when he saw how serious I was.Continue reading…