I found my daughters diary, and in it, she wrote about how much she hates me.
*Oh, look whos back! And what on earth is that in your nose, may I ask?*
Emma stood in the hallway, arms crossed. Her voice, usually warm, was sharp with anger. Lily, her sixteen-year-old daughter, slowly unlaced her trainers, avoiding eye contact. A tiny stud in her nostril glinted under the light, like a defiant little spark.
*Its a nose piercing, Mum. Everyone has them.*
*Everyone? Whos everywhere? Your new mate Sophie, the one with ten earrings? Is that your everyone? I told you not to hang around with her!*
*Sophies fine! You dont even know her!* Lily finally looked up, her eyes brimming with angry tears. *And I didnt ask your permission. Its my body.*
*Your body?* Emma took a step closer. *While you live under my roof, on my dime, your body is my concern! Do you even realise what could happen if it gets infected? Tetanus, ever heard of it? Whered you get it donesome filthy basement with a dirty needle?*
*It was at a proper piercing studio! Sterile and everything! Why do you always jump to the worst?*
*Me? I waited up till midnight for you, phone calls ignored! I was ringing hospitals and police stations, terrified! And here you are, prancing about getting pierced! Take that rubbish out right now!*
*No!* Lily stood taller, nearly matching her mums height. *Its my life, and Ill decide how I look! You hate everything I likemy music, my friends, my clothes!*
*Because its all leading you nowhere!* Emmas voice cracked. *Youre supposed to study, go to uni, not ruin yourself and roam God knows where!*
Lily shoved past her and slammed her bedroom door so hard the china in the display cabinet rattled.
*I hate you!* she spat before it slammed shut.
The word *hate* echoed in the silence. Emma leaned against the wall, legs weak, heart pounding. Why? Why was it like this? She did everything for herworked two jobs so Lily could have the best clothes, tutors, holidays. Shed given up her own life after her husband left, pouring everything into her daughter. And this was the thanks she got. *Hate.*
She wandered to the kitchen, fumbling with the kettle, hands shaking. Memories flashedLily as a little girl with giant bows, holding out her hands trustingly; Lily in her first school uniform, proudly clutching a bouquet; Lily hugging her, whispering, *Mummy, youre the best.* Where had that gone? When had her sweet girl become this prickly, angry stranger?
The bedroom door stayed shut. No sound. Emma knew any attempt to talk would be met with hostility. She had to wait it out, like always.
The next morning, a Saturday, Emma made breakfast. Lily didnt come out. Emma knocked.
*Lils, foods getting cold.*
Silence.
*Love, can you hear me?*
*Not hungry,* came the muffled reply.
Emma ate alone, washed up. The flat was thick with silence. Normally, Saturdays were for cleaning, shopping, films together. Today, the house felt cold and unfamiliar.
She started cleaningdusting, moppinganything to distract herself. Only Lilys room was left. Normally, Lily tidied her own space, but now Now, Emma needed an excuse to go in.
She knocked again.
*Lils, Im mopping. Open up.*
The door cracked open. Lily stood by the window, back turned, headphones on. Emma entered with the mop bucket. The room was its usual teenage chaosclothes everywhere, sketchbooks, scribbles. She mopped quietly, eyes drifting to something under the beda pink notebook with a tiny lock. A diary. Shed given it to Lily last birthday, joking, *Who even writes diaries anymore?*
Her chest tightened. *No. Thats wrong. Its private.* But the word *hate* burned inside her. She had to understand.
She finished quickly, left. The diary haunted her all day. What was in it? Boys? Friends? Her?
That evening, Lily went out to meet Sophie. Emma waited, then crept back into her room. Hands shaking, she picked the flimsy lock with a paperclip.
Inside, neat handwritingschool, a maths test, some band shed never heard of. Shame burned as she flipped pages. Then she found last weeks entry.
*Auntie Beth came over today. Again with the, Emma, youre a saint raising her alone! And Lilys so clever, your pride and joy! I smiled like an idiot. But inside? Im screaming. Pride and joy. Mums project. Do I even have anything thats mine? Or am I just here to meet her expectations? Be the perfect girl, get into the right uni she picks. Sometimes I feel like a doll she dresses up and shows off.*
Emmas fingers went numb. Shed never thought that. She was just proud. Was that wrong?
The next page:
*Mum lost it because I was an hour late. Screamed so loud the neighbours heard. Then cried, saying shes alone, has no one but me, shes scared. Classic move. Yell first, guilt-trip after. And I fall for it every time. I feel awful. Like I owe her for being born. Like I should trade my life for her peace.*
A lump rose in Emmas throat. Did Lily really see her love as manipulation? But she *was* scaredthe world was dangerous.
More pages, each a punch. Her advice taken as criticism. Her care as control. Her love as a leash.
Then, yesterdays entryscrawled, furious:
*I hate her. HATE her. She smothers me, controls every step, picks my friends, my clothes, my thoughts. I spent ages deciding on this piercing. It mattered to me. And sheTake that junk out. Didnt even ask why. Just decided it was bad because it didnt fit *her* world. I cant breathe. I want to run. Anywhere. Just to escape her perfect, disappointed face. I hate her love. I hate her care. I HATE HER.*
Emma shut the diary, trembling. Her whole world crumbled. She wasnt a loving mumshe was a jailer. Not support, but chains. She thought she was giving everything, but shed been taking Lilys life instead.
She put it back, staggered to the sofa, and cried.
Lily came home later. *Mum? You okay?*
Emma looked upat the nose ring, the dark jumper, the crossed arms. Not her girl. A stranger who hated her.
*Just a headache,* she mumbled.
Lily shrugged. *Take a paracetamol.*
That night, Emma lay awake, replaying every line. Lily wasnt entirely wrong. She *had* criticised her friends, scoffed at her music, guilt-tripped her. Shed thought she was loving her. But shed been suffocating her.
The next morning, she called her best mate, Sarah.
*Sal, I messed up.* She spilled everythingthe fight, the diary, the hate.
Sarah sighed. *Em, love, you *have* been a bit suffocating. Remember when you moaned about Sophie? Whats so bad about her? Shes sixteen, not forty. We dyed our hair green at that age! Sneaked out to gigs! Our mums nearly fainted.*
*But this is different*
*Its *exactly* the same. We forget. We want our kids to skip our mistakes, but they need their own. Lily doesnt hate *you*. She hates the control. She loves youI know it. But she needs you to see *her*. Not your perfect daughter, just *her*messy music, piercings and all.*
*What do I do?*
*Dont tell her you read the diarythats betrayal. Just ease up. Show interest in *her* life, not the one you planned. Be her mum, not her boss.*
That evening, as Lily headed out, Emma forced a smile.
*Lils, wait.*
Lily braced for a lecture.
*You seeing Sophie?*
*Yeah.*
*Whatre you doing?*
*Just café, maybe hers after. Listen to music.*
Emma took a breath. *About the piercing its different. But if you like it, fine. Just keep it clean, yeah?*
Lily blinked. Shed expected shouting, threatsnot this.
*Okay,* she muttered.
*And dont stay out too late. I worry.* No *Youre all I have.* Just *I worry.*
Lily nodded and left.
The next weeks were agony. Emma bit back lectures, asked instead of demanded. Once, she caught Lilys musicloud, angry. Before, shed have rolled her eyes. Now, she sat.
*Whats this?*
Lily hesitated, then handed her an earbud. Harsh beats, snarling vocals. Emma forced herself to listen.
*Its intense. Whats it about?*
Lilys eyes widened. Then she talkedfast, passionateabout protest, injustice. Emma barely understood, but she watched Lilys face soften, the walls drop.
Baby steps. Emma complimented Lilys sketches (no more *Focus on your grades*). She didnt flinch at the black nail polish.
One evening, over tea, Lily spoke first.
*Mum remember you asked about uni?*
Emmas stomach lurched.
*Theres this college for fashion design. I I want to try.*
Before, Emma wouldve panicked. *Design? What about law?* But she remembered the diary. *Mums project.*
*That sounds brilliant,* she said slowly. *What do you need? A portfolio?*
Lily gaped. *You youre not mad?*
Emma sighed. *Love, I wanted what *I* thought was best. But your happiness matters more. If this is what you want, lets make it happen.*
Lilys eyes welled up. She hugged Emmaproperlyfor the first time in years.
*Thanks, Mum.*
Emma held her tight. That pink diary had shattered her world, but it also saved them. It forced her to see Lilynot her reflection, not her projectjust *Lily*. And that was enough.
