My daughter screamed that I ruined her life and said she wanted to live with her stepmother instead. I was no longer the mother she needed. On her birthday, she told me not to come. I still showed up—and what I saw made my blood run cold.
When you’re a mother, you do everything you can to give your child the best life. From the moment Mary-Ann was born and the nurse placed that tiny, warm, fragile bundle in my arms, I knew my life had changed forever.
I felt a wave of love so deep, it nearly knocked the breath out of me. In that moment, I made a silent promise: no matter what happened in life, I would protect her, love her, and never leave her side.
My husband and I — well, my ex-husband Ben — gave her everything she needed.
She had ballet classes, sleepovers, storybooks, and warm family dinners. Ben and I separated when Mary-Ann was eight.
It wasn’t messy or ugly. We just realized we were better apart than together.
It hurt, of course, but we agreed on one thing — we’d both always be there for our daughter.
And to be fair, Ben never walked away from his role as a father. Even after he married Jessica.
I never liked Jessica. From the very beginning, I could tell that she didn’t see Mary-Ann as her own.
There was a tightness in her smile when Mary-Ann came running into Ben’s arms.
A flicker in her eyes when he canceled plans with her because Mary-Ann had a recital or needed help with homework.
She tried to act kind, always polite, but I saw through it. Still, I kept my mouth shut. I was the ex-wife. No one wants to hear complaints from the ex.
And for a while, things worked. Ben and I were a good team. We worked out our schedules, attended school meetings together, and Mary-Ann grew into a sweet, smart girl. But then she became a teenager.
And everything changed.
It was like one day I blinked and my sunshine girl was replaced by a storm. Suddenly, nothing I did was right. I made her favorite pancakes — she rolled her eyes.
I asked about school — she groaned. I offered to go shopping — she said she hated her clothes. It was one thing after another.
And when she turned fourteen, it got worse. She skipped school. She lied. She disappeared at night.
I tried to set rules, boundaries, consequences. But she only slammed the door in my face.
“You do not understand anything!” she screamed one night before locking herself in her room.
I stood in the hallway, staring at her closed door, feeling helpless. I had no idea when things had gone so wrong.
I started to wonder if maybe I had failed her somehow. Maybe I hadn’t been enough. So I decided to talk with Ben. Maybe together, we could figure this out.
“She is just a teenager,” Ben said, his tone calm.
“Yes, but she is still your daughter, and you have to care about her safety,” I said. “You know what she’s been doing lately. Skipping classes. Sneaking out at night. Hanging out with kids much older than her. That’s not nothing, Ben.”
“So what do you want, for me to control her every step?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Of course not,” I said. “But you also need to set some rules for her. Right now, I’m the only one saying no. I’m always the bad guy, and you’re the fun parent who allows everything.”
Ben rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “Alexis, I can’t forbid her anything. She only comes to me on weekends. What do you expect me to do?”
“You are still her father. Not just her friend. She needs a dad who teaches her what’s right and what’s wrong.”
“Jessica says this behavior is normal for teenagers,” Ben replied. “She says we should let her express herself.”
I let out a heavy sigh and covered my face with my hands. Then I looked at Ben again. “Jessica has never had children, Ben. She has no idea what this feels like. She doesn’t understand how dangerous this is. She doesn’t care what happens to Mary-Ann.”
Ben frowned. “Stop it. What’s the worst that can happen? Jessica does care. She’s Mary-Ann’s stepmother now.” He looked uncomfortable. “Look, we haven’t told anyone yet, but Jessica is pregnant. So soon she will be a mother.”
Before I could even process that, the front door opened. Jessica walked in, followed by Mary-Ann. She looked excited. Her eyes were glowing.
“Mom, Jessica gave me a motorcycle!” Mary-Ann shouted.
I stared at her, shocked. “What?!” I could barely get the word out.
Ben smiled like it was no big deal. “Yes, it’s our surprise for Mary-Ann’s fifteenth birthday.”
“Did you not think to discuss it with me first?” I asked, looking from Ben to Jessica.
“What’s the big deal? It’s our gift. We’ll also pay for her training,” Ben said.
“What’s the big deal?” I repeated. “It’s dangerous, that’s the big deal! She’s only fifteen!”
“You can ride motorcycles from age fifteen,” Jessica said. “Besides, it’s a small one. Mary-Ann can handle it.”
“You don’t get to decide what’s allowed for my daughter and what’s not!” I shouted at Jessica. She gasped and stepped back.
“This was our mutual decision,” Ben said. “Mary-Ann is also my daughter.”
“No, this will not happen!” I shouted. “I forbid you to ride the motorcycle! It is dangerous!”
“You can’t forbid me! It’s my gift!” Mary-Ann shouted.
“I’m your mother! I am responsible for your safety!” I said.
“You’re always controlling me! I’m not a little girl anymore!” she yelled back.
“But you are still a minor!” I said, trying to hold back tears.
“I’m sick of you treating me like a child! You’re a terrible mom! Jessica is a better mom than you! I want to live with her and Dad!” she screamed.
It felt like someone had stabbed me right in the chest. “What? You don’t want to live with me anymore?” I asked.
“NO!” she shouted.
Ben stepped in, hesitating. “Um… I think it’s fine. Mary-Ann can stay with us, right?” he said, turning to Jessica.
“Yes, I’m happy about that!” Jessica said, but I saw her clench her jaw. She didn’t look happy at all.
“Well… fine,” I said. I grabbed my bag and walked to the door.
Ben followed me. “Everything will be okay. I think she just needs time to calm down.”
“This wouldn’t have happened if you had played the role of a father at least once,” I said and left.
I cried the entire drive home. Maybe she really did need time. Or maybe I had already lost her.
While Mary-Ann lived with Ben, I still kept an eye on her. I could not just let go. I asked Ben how she was doing, even though his answers were short.
Sometimes I parked a block away and watched her walk home from school.
Just to know she was okay. I didn’t want to spy, but I couldn’t help it. She was still my daughter.
At the end of the week, her birthday was coming. I bought her the drawing tablet she had dreamed about for months.
I also baked her favorite cake — chocolate with peanut butter frosting. I added sprinkles, just like when she was little.
I was just about to leave the house and drive to Ben’s when the phone rang. It was him.
“Listen, here is the thing,” Ben began.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Mary-Ann said she doesn’t want you to come. We planned to have dinner, and then she’ll celebrate with her friends, so you won’t miss anything,” Ben said.
“She doesn’t want me to come?” I asked again, quietly.
“I’m sorry, but you know these teenagers—”
I hung up. I couldn’t listen anymore. I burst into tears. My own daughter did not want me at her birthday, and her father supported her.
It hurt to hear that. But I decided to at least give Mary-Ann her present. Through her friends’ Instagram, I found out where they were celebrating and went there. And what I saw there horrified me.
Mary-Ann was giving her friends rides on the motorcycle.
“Mom?! What are you doing here?!” Mary-Ann shouted when I got out of the car.
“I wanted to give you your present,” I said and looked around. “But what is going on here?! You do not even have a license!”
“So what?!” she shouted. “We are just riding! We are being careful!”
“Mary-Ann, you are in the middle of a road. This is not safe. What if a car comes around the corner? What if you fall?” I said.
“It is not a big deal! We take turns and go slow!” she shouted back.
“Does your father know about this?” I asked.
“I asked Jessica, and she said it was fine,” Mary-Ann said with a shrug.
“Jessica is not your parent,” I said firmly.
“She is my mom too! And she is better than you!” Mary-Ann shouted. Her words hit me like a punch.
“Mary-Ann, don’t say that,” I said. My throat felt tight. “You know that’s not true.”
“I don’t want to see you! Go away!” she shouted and turned her back to me.
“Mary-Ann, this is dangerous. Please listen to me. You could get hurt,” I said.
“Go away!” she screamed again. “Dad told you not to come! You always mess everything up! You ruin everything!”
I stood there for a second, frozen. Then I turned and walked back to my car with tears in my eyes.
I sat in the driver’s seat and looked at her one more time. She was laughing with her friends like nothing had happened.
I picked up my phone and sent Ben a message. I told him Mary-Ann was riding the motorcycle.
I told him it was unsafe. He didn’t read it. Not after an hour. Not after two. I checked again and again. Still nothing.
All that time, I couldn’t calm down. I paced around the house. I checked my phone every few minutes.
I kept thinking that something bad would happen and I would not be there to help. Then, hours later, my phone finally rang.
It was her.
“Mom,” she cried into the phone. Her voice was shaking. “Mom, come get me.”
“What happened? Where are you?” I asked, already grabbing my keys.
She gave me directions. Her voice kept breaking. She was trying to stay strong, but I could tell she was scared.
When I got there, I saw her sitting alone on a road outside the city. She was curled up next to her motorcycle, holding her arm. Her face was pale, and she was crying.
“What happened?” I asked and rushed over. “Where are all your friends?”
“They got scared and ran away,” she said through her tears. “I wanted to be cool. I wanted to do a trick on the motorcycle… but I fell… I think I broke my arm.”
“My poor girl,” I said. I knelt beside her and held her close. “If you only broke your arm, you are lucky. It could have ended much worse.”
“Yes, I know,” she whispered.
I helped her get up slowly and brought her to the car. She leaned on me the whole time. I kept my hand on hers while I drove us to the hospital.
The doctor said it was a clean break and a minor concussion. “She just needs a day of rest, and everything will be fine,” he told me after putting on the cast.
When we got back into the car, I glanced at her. “Do you want me to take you to your father’s?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. I want to go home.”
I didn’t say anything. I just started the engine and drove.
“Mom,” she said after a while.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Thank you for coming right away. For not leaving me alone.”
“Of course,” I said. “I will always come to you.”
“I called Jessica first,” she said. Her voice trembled. “She said she had a manicure and could not come. Then she told me I should get used to not depending on them. They’re going to have a baby. She said I would have to move out. There won’t be space for me.”
She broke into tears.
I pulled the car over and hugged her tightly. “Do not listen to Jessica,” I said. “Your father will always have space for you.”
“But I do not want to live with them anymore,” she said. “I want to live with you. You care about me.”
“Of course I care. I love you more than anything in the world,” I said.
“I love you too, Mom. I am sorry for how I behaved,” she said.
“And I am sorry for not seeing how grown up you are. I kept thinking you were still my little Mary-Ann,” I said.
“But can I be little just for today?” she asked. “Can we get ice cream and watch cartoons like we used to?”
“Of course,” I said. “Today is your day. We will do whatever you want.” I smiled and added, “I bought you a drawing tablet for your birthday. Now you can draw your own cartoons.”
Mary-Ann hugged me tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
That evening, we curled up on the couch with two big bowls of ice cream, just like we used to. The TV played old cartoons she had loved as a little girl.
She leaned her head on my shoulder, and I wrapped my arm around her. In that quiet moment, with her close to me, nothing else mattered at all.
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