The next Sunday, when her boyfriend came over again, I didn’t pace the hallway. I baked cookies, poured lemonade, and left them on the table outside her door without knocking.
Later, I peeked in quietly — not out of suspicion, but out of a mother’s quiet admiration.
And in that small, ordinary moment, I realized something important: trust doesn’t mean pretending you’re not afraid. It means giving your child the space to prove that they deserve it.
What I Learned
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