u/Complete-End-5239

I’m getting engaged soon. My boyfriend keeps talking about getting married by my birthday next February, and he’s booked a two week trip to Italy for us in May, so it’s all starting to feel very real and close now. And instead of feeling excited I just keep spiraling about my mom.

We are not close. We haven’t been for years. When I was in 8th grade her husband said things about me and my friends that made me really uncomfortable. I told her because I thought she would care, I thought she would believe me. She didn’t. She said I was lying, that I just wanted attention, and something in me just broke after that. Like actually broke. And it never came back.

And I think what I can’t get out of my head is that I will never understand why she believes my sister, why she shows up for her, why she loves her in a way I can actually see, but I don’t get that. I don’t understand why it was never the same for me. I don’t think I ever will.

Now I’m stuck on whether I should even send her a wedding invite and I feel stupid for how much it’s affecting me.

Part of me feels like I should because she’s my mom. That’s what you do. But another part of me keeps replaying it. Me sending it. Her getting it. Maybe not even opening it. Maybe throwing it away. And I don’t know why that thought makes me feel so sick, but it does.

And it’s not even about the invite really. It’s about what it means. Like I’m still offering something to someone who already decided I wasn’t someone worth believing. Or protecting. Or really choosing.

I told my therapist about it and she asked me, “Are you deciding about an invite, or are you trying to get a different outcome from your mom than you’ve ever had?” And honestly that really hurt my fucking feelings. Because I think she might be right, and I really don't want her to be.

I hate that it still has this much power over me. I hate that I can’t just be normal about it and move on.

But she’s still my mom. And that’s the part that messes with me the most. Because I will never understand how she can love my sister so easily and not me in the same way. I don’t think I ever will.

And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that.

Eight years in, and still it’s you.

Still the one I turn to.

Still the one in all this noise.

Who feels like truth, not just a choice.

The world gets heavy. The days get long.

Everything feels off or wrong.

But then you speak.

And I come back.

Like something steady in the black.

You don’t even have to try.

You just exist and I feel why.

I’ve stayed, I’ve loved, I’ve held on tight.

Through every dull and tired night.

You are my bright spot.

Still are.

Like something constant.

Like a star.

And now it’s changing just a bit.

The way we speak about what fits.

A ring. A name. A step into.

The life we’ve already been walking through.

And I think I’ve known for a while.

In the way you look at me and smile.

Like I was already halfway home.

Like I was never meant to be alone.

Like this was always going to be.

Not new. Not maybe. Just you and me.

So when it’s asked, when it becomes real.

It will feel like something I finally seal.

I won’t feel new. I won’t feel shocked.

Just more like something being unlocked.

Because you’ve been my bright spot all along.

Through everything. Through right and wrong.

And if the world keeps staying grey.

You are the part that never fades.

Still you.

Still mine.

Still the light I always find.