At 16, my mom kicked me out so her boyfriend could move in. I spent years homeless, working three jobs just to survive.
Now I’m 34, successful, and living in a big house. Last week, my mom showed up at my gate, begging to move in. I said no.
She handed me an envelope and left.
Inside were hundreds of receipts and a ledger dating back to the week I was kicked out. Every “anonymous” gift I got — hostels, food, even a trade school scholarship — was paid for by her.
The last page was a police report: she had filed a restraining order against the boyfriend the same week she kicked me out.
She lied to protect me.
She stayed with him for 18 years to keep me safe.
I drove to the bus station, brought her home, and we’re rebuilding our relationship.
Sometimes the person you hate most is the one who saved your life.
