“I was diagnosed with depression. I didn’t want to drag you down with me.
I thought disappearing was kinder… I was wrong.”
Pain. Anger. Confusion.
But my mother walked in then — glowing — happier than I had seen her in ages.
And at that moment, I understood something:
This wasn’t about me anymore. **So I made a decision.**
I took a deep breath and stepped forward.
“Mom,” I said softly, “can we talk privately later?”
She nodded, concerned but still smiling. And I knew:
I wasn’t going to destroy her happiness in one night.
Not out of pain. Not without knowing the full truth of who he was *now*. People change.
Wounds heal.
But trust… trust must be rebuilt carefully. This story isn’t over.
But I will choose **grace** before chaos. For **her**.
And for **me**.
