“The Christmas I Was Made to Feel I Didn’t Belong”
When my son told me I wasn’t welcome for Christmas, I didn’t argue. I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t ask why. I simply smiled, picked up my coat, walked out to my truck, and drove home.
At the time, he thought that smile meant acceptance. It didn’t. It meant something inside me had finally gone quiet.
Something that had been yelling, pleading, and struggling for years had simply… stopped. It began earlier that…
When my son told me I wasn’t welcome for Christmas, I didn’t argue. I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t ask why. I simply smiled, picked up my coat, walked out to my truck, and drove home.
At the time, he thought that smile meant acceptance. It didn’t. It meant something inside me had finally gone quiet.
Something that had been yelling, pleading, and struggling for years had simply… stopped. It began earlier that…
