My mom is fifty-three, and a few months ago she casually told me she was dating someone named Ethan. The moment she said his name, my stomach dropped.<\/p>\n
Not because it was a common name. Because I knew exactly who Ethan was.<\/p>\n
He wasn\u2019t a stranger or some random guy she\u2019d met online. Ethan used to live down the street when I was a kid. Back then, he was the kind of boy every younger kid looked up to\u2014funny, kind, always helping people carry groceries or fix bikes. When I was seven, he felt impossibly grown-up and perfect. I followed him around like a puppy and once told my mom, completely serious, that I was going to marry him someday.<\/p>\n
She\u2019d laughed then. I remembered that clearly.<\/p>\n
So when she said, \u201cI\u2019ve been seeing someone\u2026 you remember Ethan, right?\u201d I actually laughed, thinking she was joking. There was no way she would do that. Not after knowing what he meant to me as a child. Not after hearing me confess my little kid feelings so earnestly.<\/p>\n
But she wasn\u2019t joking.<\/p>\n
She smiled and said, \u201cIsn\u2019t it funny? You used to have such a crush on him.\u201d<\/p>\n
Funny. That was the word she chose.<\/p>\n
From that moment on, everything felt wrong. She kept inviting me over, insisting we should \u201cbond as a family.\u201d Even when I met her alone, she couldn\u2019t stop talking about him\u2014how \u201cmature\u201d he was, how he \u201cunderstood her better than men her age,\u201d how refreshing it was to be with someone young and energetic.<\/p>\n
Every sentence felt like salt in an old wound I hadn\u2019t even known was still there.<\/p>\n
What hurt most wasn\u2019t jealousy. It was the feeling that something private and innocent from my childhood had been taken and turned into a joke I was now forced to sit through.<\/p>\n
Eventually, I gave in and agreed to have dinner with them. I told myself I was being dramatic. I told myself I was an adult and could handle it.<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
The moment Ethan saw me, he laughed and said, \u201cYour mom told me you used to have a crush on me. Cute, right?\u201d Then he winked.<\/p>\n
My mom laughed too. \u201cShe was obsessed with you when she was little!\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt my face burn. I wanted to disappear into the floor. They weren\u2019t just laughing\u2014they were bonding over me. Over something I\u2019d never given permission to share.<\/p>\n
Watching him touch her arm after that made my skin crawl.<\/p>\n
After dinner, I pulled my mom aside and finally said it out loud. \u201cYou knew I had a crush on him. That wasn\u2019t funny. It was disturbing.\u201d<\/p>\n
She rolled her eyes and told me I was \u201ctoo sensitive\u201d and \u201cjealous.\u201d That\u2019s when I realized she wasn\u2019t listening\u2014she didn\u2019t want to.<\/p>\n
So I stopped trying. I kept my distance. I let her live in her glowing romance while I quietly stepped back.<\/p>\n
A few weeks ago, she called me in tears. Ethan had left. She\u2019d found out he\u2019d been messaging women his own age the entire time.<\/p>\n
I do feel sorry for her. Breakups hurt at any age.<\/p>\n
But if I\u2019m honest? There\u2019s also relief. And maybe even a small, guilty sense that this was inevitable.<\/p>\n
Is it terrible that part of me thinks she crossed a line\u2014and finally had to face the consequences?<\/p>\n
Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance. All images are for illustration purposes only.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
My mom is fifty-three, and a few months ago she casually told me she was dating someone named Ethan. The moment she said his name, my stomach dropped. Not because … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4768,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[24,22],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4773","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-family","category-inspiration"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4773","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4773"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4773\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4778,"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4773\/revisions\/4778"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/4768"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4773"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4773"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readinstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4773"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}