“You should be,” I replied, my voice steady. “But I’m not here to hold on to anger. I’m here because I need clarity. And because our daughter deserves a mother who isn’t carrying bitterness in her heart.”
We spoke for a short time, both careful, both changed. When I walked out, I felt something lift from me—a release I didn’t expect. It wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t forgetting. It was simply the freedom of letting go.
Life didn’t go the way I planned, but it gave me the strength I didn’t know I had. And every time I hold my daughter close, I feel something far more powerful than fear or regret. I feel hope.