As a single mom, I gave up everything for my daughter. My time, my dreams, even my own happiness. I thought she understood that, appreciated it. But then, one night, I overheard her laughing on the phone:
“My mom has no life anyway. She’ll have no choice but to babysit on Valentine’s Day.”
Those words cut through me like a knife. No life? Was that what she thought of me? That I was nothing more than her built-in babysitter, someone with no hopes or dreams of my own?
I knew, right then and there, things had to change.
I became a mother young. I had Miranda at 26, and I did everything I could to raise her right. I worked hard, sacrificed sleep, and put her first. But when she got pregnant at 18 and her boyfriend disappeared, I did what any mother would do—I stepped up.
I still remember the night she told me. Her hands were shaking, her eyes filled with tears.
“Mom, I’m so scared,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to do.”
I pulled her into my arms. “We’ll figure it out together,” I promised. “You’re not alone.”
And I meant it. I worked extra hours so she could finish college. I gave up my weekends so she could go out with friends and feel like a normal teenager. I told myself, “She’s young. She deserves a little freedom. I’ll help until she gets on her feet.”
But she never got on her feet. And that night, when I heard her laughing about me having “no life,” I realized she had mistaken my love for obligation.
It was the Monday before Valentine’s Day. I had just come home from work, exhausted. My feet ached, my back was sore, and I was ready to collapse into bed. But as I passed the hallway, I heard her voice.
“Oh, don’t worry,” she giggled into the phone. “My mom has no life anyway. She’ll cancel her plans like always.”
I stopped cold.
“She told me some dumb story about having a date with her coworker, but come on… her priority is MY DAUGHTER. She won’t actually go. I’ll just make her cancel.”
Then she laughed. Like my sacrifices were nothing. Like I didn’t even exist beyond what I could do for her.
Something inside me snapped.
That night, she walked into my room, all sweetness and smiles.
“Mom, I know you had that date, but I have a really special night planned with Matt. You’ll babysit, right?”
She batted her eyelashes like she always did when she wanted something.
I thought of David from accounting, the man who had asked me out. His warm smile, the way he’d said, “Everyone deserves a second chance at happiness.”
I smiled back at her. “Of course, sweetheart. Anything for you.”
She beamed. Hugged me. Told me I was “the best.”
She had no idea what was coming.
On Valentine’s Day, Miranda practically skipped out the door, dressed in a stunning red dress, her hair straightened to perfection.
“Kelly’s already asleep,” she said. “Should be an easy night. Love you, Mom!”
She didn’t wait for my response. She didn’t even check if I was okay. She just assumed I’d be there, like always.
She thought wrong.
Thirty minutes later, I walked into the fancy restaurant Miranda had been raving about all week—with Kelly on my hip.
The hostess barely had time to greet me before I spotted them. Miranda, all dolled up, sitting across from a well-dressed young man.
I marched straight to their table. Miranda’s eyes widened in shock.
“Mom?! What are you—”
I set Kelly in her lap. “At first, I was going to babysit,” I said sweetly. “But then I thought… what better way to test your relationship than to see how Matt handles real life? After all, if he’s serious about dating a single mom, he should be okay spending the night with both of you.”
Miranda’s face turned beet red. Matt blinked in confusion.
“Uh… what?”
I turned to him with a smile. “Oh, she didn’t tell you she has a baby? That’s odd. Considering she told me she’d make me cancel my plans for her hot date.”
Silence. Complete, stunned silence.
Kelly let out a tiny coo, oblivious to the chaos unfolding.
I patted Miranda’s shoulder. “Enjoy your night, sweetheart. Don’t wait up.”
And with that, I walked out, my heart pounding but my head held high.
Later that night, the front door slammed.
“MOM! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT? YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!”
I turned slowly. “No, Miranda. YOU ruined everything.”
Her mouth snapped shut.
“You heard me,” she whispered.
“Oh, I heard every word you said. And tonight, you got to experience what happens when you assume I’ll always be there.”
Her lips trembled. “Mom, I didn’t mean it like that—”
“You meant exactly what you said,” I interrupted. “And tonight, you learned that I am not your built-in babysitter. I have a life too.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn’t argue.
“Go to bed,” I said. “And think about how you’ll do better.”
The next morning, she shuffled into the kitchen, eyes puffy. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat in silence.
Finally, I spoke. “There are going to be some changes.”
She stilled.
“Your daughter is YOUR responsibility. I will help, but I won’t cancel my life for you. You will ask, not assume.”
She swallowed hard. “I get it.”
“I hope you do.”
A week later, I watched from the window as she struggled to load Kelly’s stroller into her car. The old me would have rushed to help. Instead, I sipped my coffee and waited.
“Mom?” Her voice was hesitant. “Could you… maybe…”
I raised an eyebrow.
She sighed. “Would you please help me? I have a job interview, and Kelly’s being impossible, and I know it’s last minute, but—”
“What time is your interview?” I asked.
“Eleven. I’d only need two hours.”
“I can watch her from eleven to one. But I have plans at two. You’ll need to be back.”
Relief flooded her face. “Thank you. I mean it.”
Later that day, as I got ready for my date with David, Miranda lingered in the doorway.
“You look nice,” she said. “Are you seeing David again?”
“Yes.”
“Is it… serious?”
I turned to face her. “Would it matter if it was?”
She hesitated, then whispered, “I’m trying to be happy for you, Mom. It’s just… scary. Knowing I can’t always count on you.”
“You can count on me as your mother,” I said. “But not on me giving up my life.”
She nodded, finally understanding.
And for the first time, I felt free.
