She stayed 3 years. I was 8 when she left. I remember it like a brand in my skin. I remember her apologizing to us for needing to leave. That she tried. I remember knowing even then that she had stayed all this time for us.

We still speak multiple times a year, usually for hours at a time. My fathers abuse has stayed with her as much as me, and our convos usually quickly turn from asking each other “how are you doing” to talking about him. Today I told her about my mom, and she believed me. She has always believed me. She stayed so much longer than she should have, for my brother and I alone. I’m writing this with tears in my eyes. Her and my nanny (who both became better parents to me than my own) took the brunt of the abuse for years, as long as they could. I am grateful. I am so grateful. I feel loved today, and it’s a hard day to feel that way. I hope there was someone who believed you, I hope there was a single moment you felt safe because someone else was there. I hope you had a moment in time that someone stood in front of the flame for you when you were small and pretended it didn’t hurt. I hope you don’t have to speak to your abusers anymore. Happy mother’s day to the children who survived their childhood, I love you all. I’m grateful for you, this silly community that means so much to me.