**Diary Entry 18th March**
*”You’ve ruined my entire life!”* my daughter shouted before slamming the door.
Later that evening, as I stirred a pot of beef stew, she surprised me. *”Mum, do you remember how you used to put me to bed as a child?”* Lily asked softly, flipping through old photos on the kitchen table.
I looked up, startled. These werent the usual sharp words between us.
*”Of course,”* I smiled, drying my hands on a tea towel. *”You made me read ‘Goldilocks and the Three Bears’ every night. Same story, never tired of it. Then youd beg me to stay until you fell asleepsaid you were scared without me.”*
Lily nodded, tracing a photo of her five-year-old self on my lap, both of us grinning at the book in her hands.
*”Didnt you ever get sick of it?”*
*”Of what, love?”*
*”Of me. The same routinework, home, my demands. Didnt it wear you down?”*
I sat beside her. The divorce had hollowed her outdark circles under her eyes, a sharpness to her voice.
*”Never,”* I said quietly. *”You were my whole world. Especially after your dad left.”*
She scoffed. *”Ah, Dad. Ran off with his secretary when I was seven. I heard you crying in the kitchen at nightthought I didnt notice.”*
*”I tried to hide it.”*
*”I knew.”* Her voice cracked. *”I saw you stitching up your tights, skipping meat at dinner so I could have seconds. Working three jobs just to keep me in piano lessons.”*
I turned away, cheeks burning.
*”Any mother wouldve done the same.”*
*”Would they?”* She set the photos down. *”Remember my schoolmate, Emily? She told me last week she envied me. Said you were the perfect mumalways turned up to parents evenings, hair done, asking about my grades. Her mum? Drunk, chasing men, never cared.”*
*”Poor girl,”* I murmured.
*”And I thought she was lucky,”* Lily said bitterly. *”No one controlling her every move.”*
It stung like a slap. *”What dyou mean?”*
*”You smothered me, Mum. Year nine, when I begged to go on the school trip to Edinburgh? You said it was dangerous. Year ten, when I wanted to go to Sarahs birthday disco? ‘Good girls stay home.'”*
I frowned. Shed screamed then*”I live in a prison!”*and locked herself away for days.
*”I was protecting you! The neighbours wouldve gossiped’Lilys gone wild!'”*
*”Your shame, not mine,”* she shot back. *”You never asked what I wanted.”*
*”Thats not true! I”*
*”Piano lessons. I hated them. You said theyd be useful. Three miserable years! I wanted to play football, but you swore it was unladylike.”*
I moved to the window, gutted. Had she been tallying grievances all this time?
*”I just didnt want you making my mistakes.”*
*”Like with Mark?”* Her voice softened. *”Remember him? Blonde lad from Year Eleven? Asked me to the cinema, ice skating. You always found excuseshomework, chores, Youre coming down with something.”*
*”Sixteens too young for”*
*”He married Sarah. Maybe that couldve been me.”*
The room thickened with silence. The stew bubbled, forgotten.
*”So my marriage failing thats on you?”* I whispered.
*”Not blame. But you raised me to distrust men. All cheats, all drunks. So when James yelled over burnt toast, I took itthought I deserved it.”*
My hands shook. *”I never knew.”*
*”Im learning now,”* she said. *”Been seeing a therapist. Says Ive got no spinecant say no to my boss, cant choose a breakfast cereal without panicking.”* A weak laugh. *”Last month, I went to Cornwall. Alone. First time ever. Terrifying but God, the freedom! Picking where to eat, when to sleepno ones rules but mine.”*
Tears pricked my eyes. *”Im glad, love.”*
*”I dont want to resent you anymore. You did your best. Grandma ruled you with an iron fist too, didnt she?”*
I nodded. *”Children speak when spoken to.”*
*”Exactly. But I know better now. And I want a baby.”*
I choked. *”What? Alone?”*
*”If I choose to. My life, my rules.”* She grinned at my horror. *”Relax. Youll be Granny. Just no interfering.”*
I hugged her tight, grief and hope twisting together. *”Ill try.”*
*”We both will.”* She kissed my cheek. *”Order a pizza tonight? Celebrate fresh starts.”*
As she dialled, I watched herreally watchedfor the first time in years. Not my little girl. A woman. Flawed, fierce, finally free.
**Lesson learnt:** Love isnt control. Its trust. And sometimes, the bravest thing a mother can do is let go.
