Page 115 of Your Pucking Mom

Despite my desire to retreat to bed and immerse myself in the chaos of my life, I managed to apply makeup and slip into a sundress. When my mother phoned me after the recent incident and requested my presence, I couldn’t refuse. I held on to hope that perhaps this visit would mark a turning point, an apology for the hurtful words she had hurled at me.

As I stood outside the members-only club on Michigan Avenue, searching through my bag for my ID, I questioned why I subjected myself to this emotional turmoil. While she was my mother, I needed to establish clear boundaries and assert myself. Yes, she was family, but that didn’t mean she could scream at me the way she had. I needed to demonstrate to both my mother and to Austin, who was giving me the silent treatment, that I could be a better parent than my own upbringing.

Reflecting on my actions, I acknowledged the importance of taking accountability for my mistakes, particularly in my strained relationship with Austin. I couldn’t dismiss his feelings or react with hostility. As I finally located my ID and presented it to the doorman, I realized that my hope for reconciliation with my mother mirrored my efforts to mend things with Austin. I sighed, bracing myself for whatever awaited me beyond the lavish lobby and through the elevators of the exclusive club.

Navigating through the lobby adorned with extravagant sculptures and floral arrangements, I made my way to the elevators. Each floor revealed a new realm of luxury: the grand ballroom, the private restaurant, and the rooftop.

Ascending to the members-only club, I was met with a breathtaking panoramic view of the city skyline. The space was a symphony of extravagance, with sumptuous furnishings and rich fabrics creating a cozy yet decadent atmosphere.

As I stepped into the rooftop bar on the fiftieth floor, I was engulfed in a whirlwind of excess. The atmosphere reeked of opulence, with marble floors reflecting the glimmering lights and towering windows framing the bustling cityscape beyond. Everywhere I turned, impeccably dressed members mingled, exuding an air of refinement that made my simple sundress feel out of place amid the sea of formal attire.

My mother was in the corner of the bar area, sitting in a large red-and-gold high-back chair with a cup of tea next to her. I took a deep breath and walked the few feet to where she was sitting. When she noticed my presence, she simply glanced up at me, giving me a nod to sit.

“Tea?” she asked. There was no hello, no hug, but also no immediate regret written upon her face.

I had a pretty good idea of how this conversation would go. Maybe this time would be different, but deep down, I knew it wouldn’t be. It would be just like when she called her daughter a whore in her own home—nothing changed.

“No, thank you.” I sat straighter in the chair. “This conversation shouldn’t take long,” I said.

“Good.” My mother brought the vintage-looking cup to her red-stained lips. “Then you’re here to apologize?”

If I was drinking something, it would have burst all over her black dress. My jaw had popped open so widely I wasn’t sure if I could pick it up off the floor.

“M-me?” I asked. “Apologize to…you?” I raised an eyebrow in question.

She blinked twice. “Of course. How dare you bring me into your life affairs and make it so messy for poor Austin.”

I was flabbergasted. Truly and genuinely concerned there was something very wrong with my mother. “Mom,” I finally said when I gathered all the courage I could. “You called me a whore in front of Austin and Ledger.”

“Ledger is his name, then.” She then made atsknoise that sounded like she was disappointed.

“Yes. His name is Ledger, and I’m in love with him…” I confessed, feeling the weight of the pain I’d been bearing for days finally leave my shoulders, because Iwasin love with him.

“So your plan is to ruin your son’s life by chasing some guy?”

I closed my eyes. Everything that I had ever been was because of my mother. She had it ingrained in my brain that I was useless, nothing, and would amount to absolute trash because of who I was. But she was wrong, for once, she was wrong. I would never ruin Austin’s life, and everything I’d done for him and for my family throughout my years proved this.

“No, Mom,” I said, straightening my skirt. “I would never do anything to Austin, but just as Austin deserves to be happy, so do I.”

“A mother sacrifices for her children.”

That was it. The final straw for me that somehow broke the proverbial camel’s back. “Yes, she does.”

I inhaled deeply. “You have done nothing my entire life aside from berate and belittle me. Yes, I’m grateful that you financially provided for me and Austin while I was still being a kid, but I was raped, Mom.Raped.”

“You were not. You didn’t know his name; you were drunk.” She kept sitting there drinking her tea, like we were talking about the weather. This would not affect her in the slightest, and any small hope I’d held that she would apologize had vanished out the window. She had no idea that what she was doing hurt me so badly and had for so long.

I closed my eyes, trying my best not to lash out at her. “I was traumatized. I don’t remember his name because my brain physically doesn’t allow me to anymore.”

I resisted the urge to lunge across the small table and shake her, pleading for her to truly hear me. Instead, I maintained my composure, careful not to raise my voice, but speaking with firm authority. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I’m an adult now. If we’re to have any semblance of a relationship, I won’t tolerate being spoken to like this. Not now, not ever again. I’ve spent my life feeling unworthy of love and attention, believing I was worthless. But I refuse to accept that any longer.”

I refused to yell at her, knowing that if I got all riled up, it would make it worse. She would somehow take this story and shift the blame to me. I embarrassed her in her club. I was the one who was screaming in public. I refused to allow her to write the words of my story. It was a new page and my fucking pen. I would be the one writing the words.

I hesitated, gathering my thoughts before speaking. “What I did with Austin, keeping my relationship with Ledger from him, was wrong, and I accept the consequences. But you will never set foot in my home and hurl insults at me again. You will not bully me. Your narcissism blinds you to anything outside your own world. I doubt this speech from your own daughter will penetrate that bubble. You’ll likely twist it to make me the villain, as you always do. But, Mother, I’ve reached my limit. I won’t tolerate your hurtful words any longer.”

I stood, grabbed my purse, and turned away before I paused to look over my shoulder at her. She was staring at me. Her expression was blank. “I will no longer allow anyone to control the narrative of my life except for myself.”

With that declaration, I strode away, holding my breath until I reached the elevator. As the doors closed behind me, I released a sigh, feeling the weight of my pain dissipate. It was a first step into the unknown, but I had to speak my truth. It was time for me to reclaim control over my own life.

---