A Letter to My Mother - For the woman who never let go — even when I tried to let go of myself.

Dear Mom,

There aren’t really words big enough to say thank you, but I’m going to try anyway.

I don’t know how I would have made it through the past two years without you. Actually, let’s be honest—I wouldn’t have. Not even close.

Sometimes I worry it seems like I take you for granted. Like I just assume you’ll always be there. And while yes, I do kind of assume that (you’re basically eternal), I don’t take it for granted. Not even a little. I notice everything—the quiet sacrifices, the unspoken support, the way you just... show up. Over and over again. I know how lucky I am. I really do.

You hated X from the very beginning. And you weren’t exactly subtle about it. You screamed it from the rooftops, told anyone who’d listen. And sometimes, if I’m being honest, that made it harder. He knew you didn’t like him, and I paid for that—over and over. Any sideways glance or offhand comment from you turned into a blow-up at home. I can’t count the number of times I got pulled aside at family events and reprimanded for something you said.

You were the first person he tried to isolate me from. He whispered in my ear that I didn’t need you. He pointed to his own estranged relationship with his mother like it was some kind of success story. But I could never cut you off—not fully. Even when the backlash made it feel easier to put distance between us, I never could.

In the middle of all the chaos—sleepless nights, tear-soaked hours laying in my closet, endless mental gymnastics—I always held onto one thing: I had you. Not everyone is that lucky. So many women are isolated completely, cut off from every lifeline. But you? You never would have let that happen. You never left. You never stopped loving me. And that might be the only reason I made it out.

Two years ago, after four months of trying to tell X I wanted a divorce, I finally told you the truth. I swallowed my pride, admitted you were right (ugh), and said the words I’d been choking on: “I need out.”

And you? You didn’t say “I told you so.” You didn’t gloat.

You took action.

You made me feel safe.

You reminded me I had somewhere to go.

Despite all his efforts, X never succeeded in making me feel truly alone—because you never stopped showing up.

If I can give one piece of advice to anyone loving someone in a relationship like mine: keep showing up. Even when they push you away. Even when it seems like they’re choosing someone else. Keep loving them loudly. It matters more than you’ll ever know.

The night I called the police—the night I finally said, “It’s over”—you were where we ran. Your house became our home. And even with five kids in tow, not once did you make me feel like a burden. You hid my car. You turned fear into adventure for the kids. You gave me a soft place to land and a reason to believe we’d be okay.

You were also the first person to say the thing out loud I couldn’t:

“This was abuse.”

You gave me permission to name it. And that changed everything.

These past two years have been brutal. Not just for me—for us. You’ve carried so much of this weight alongside me. You’ve cried for me. You’ve fought for me. You’ve shown up for the kids in every way imaginable. You’ve celebrated the tiny victories and held space for every loss. When I can’t think straight, you’re my brain. When I’m unraveling, you’re the thread that holds me together.

You and D are my end-of-the-day people. Always.

The kids and I love being on your property. It’s more than just land—it’s peace. It’s healing.

So here it is, plain and simple:

Thank you.

Thank you for being you.

Thank you for loving these babies like they’re your own.

Thank you for worrying about me in that mom-level, mildly-excessive-but-endearing way.

Thank you for never hesitating when I ask for help.

Thank you for holding us up when we couldn’t stand on our own.

We could not do this life without you. And we will never stop being grateful.

With all my love,

Your daughter 💗

A Non-Comprehensive List of All the Things My Mom Does on a Near-Daily Basis (Because She’s a Literal Superhuman):

1. Called today to say she’s cleaning the bathrooms in my Delaware apartment (we move out Sunday).

2. Helped D and me in our quest to buy a house in Maryland.

3. Offers regularly to drive kids to meet me during the back and forth of Delaware and Maryland.

4. Picked up baby girl’s medication this week.

5. Picked up E from school after she dyed herself pink.

6. Took J to nearly every orthodontist appointment—including braces day.

7. Drops everything to pick up a sick kid.

8. Drops everything to watch a sick kid.

9. Comes to my apartment every morning to do the entire bus stop shuffle.

10. Greets E after school and makes her a grilled cheese (a daily act of love).

11. Gets CCC and ABC off the bus and brings them home so I don’t have to.

12. Shows up to every kid event like she’s their biggest fan (because she is).

13. Watches the younger kids when it’s raining so I can avoid taking them to soggy lacrosse games.

14. Was ready to testify at the custody trial.

15. Came to (or drove me to) every single lawyer meeting.

16. Picks up my mail every time I spiral and panic about legal documents waiting in the mailbox.

17. Lets the dog out without me asking.

18. Stands beside me at custody exchanges to remind me I’m not alone.

19. Rushes over with a key when someone inevitably gets locked out.

20. Scrubbed my entire house before I handed over the keys last year.

21. Took CCC’s yearbook (and McDonald’s) to school.

22. Made me tea every morning for two months while I was out of work.