When my son moved in with his girlfriend last year, I thought it was just the beginning of a new chapter in his life. They were only ten minutes away, and I imagined weekend visits, shared dinners, and the same bond we had always cherished. But reality turned out differently. The weeks passed without a single visit, and the phone stayed silent. I kept waiting for a knock on the door, or even a short call, but the silence stretched into months. The more I reached out, the more I felt like I was speaking into a void, unsure if he even remembered the sacrifices I had made for him.
Still, I tried to show support in any way I could. I sent him money when I thought he might need it, hoping it would ease his burdens. Yet, my messages went unanswered, and my calls were left ringing. Each rejection felt like a small cut, slowly teaching me that my love and effort weren’t being returned. The hardest part wasn’t the distance—it was realizing that the closeness we once had seemed to mean more to me than to him.
Last week, after countless unanswered calls, he finally picked up. For a brief moment, I felt relief, but his voice was cold and hurried. He told me he was too busy, and that I shouldn’t call so much. Those words hit harder than I expected. It was as if a door had been shut, not just to his home but to the connection I had been clinging to. In that moment, I knew I had to make a choice—for my own well-being.
So, I decided to stop waiting. I joined a book club, started volunteering, and surrounded myself with people who genuinely value me. The ache of my son’s distance hasn’t disappeared, but it has taught me a powerful lesson: love should never be one-sided. Sometimes, the most healing thing we can do is stop chasing after people who won’t meet us halfway, and instead invest in the relationships and passions that bring light back into our lives.