I was allowed to choose which parent I wanted to live with. Two years later, I regretted my decision.
I always thought my father loved me more than my mother did. He spoiled me, while she scolded me; he was the peacemaker, and she was quicker to argue. So when I found out my parents were divorcing, I almost felt relieved. At thirteen, I didnt want to stay with my mum, and besides, I believed my dad, as the breadwinner, could take better care of me. My parents were curious about my choiceMum hoped Id pick her, but she wasnt the least bit surprised when I chose Dad.
A year after we moved out, Dad found a new girlfriend. She was around the same age as my mum, and he was smitten with her. She treated me well enough, but without the warmth or love my mum had shown me. When she and my father had a daughter together, it was like they forgot about me. Sometimes theyd go on trips just the three of them, never thinking to take me along, or theyd host fancy dinners when I wasnt around. My old bedroom now had a crib in it, and I could hardly sleep properly after the baby arrivedcrying at night, my stepmother coming in to feed her, turning the light on
Dad didnt care how it affected my mood or my schoolwork, and he barely noticed when I went out with friends and stayed out late. Eventually, I realised I couldnt go on like this. I wanted to go to university, I had plans, and if I kept losing sleep, Id never manage it. For the sake of my future, I swallowed my pride and called my mum.
«Can I come stay with you?» I asked, not daring to hope. I rarely called her, let alone visited.
«Of course, love, come for as long as you like. Your sisters driving you mad, is she?»
I felt sorry for her. Dad had his new family and his own worries, while Mum was still completely alone.
I asked Dad if I could move in with Mum temporarily, and he agreed straight away. He promised to send money, but he never called. In a way, it was easier for all of us. Maybe because Im older now, but Mum and I get on like friends these days. She looks after me, supports me, while Dad and I only talk occasionally on the phone. He thinks Im grown up now, but Mum still treats me like a kid sometimes, making me dinner after work.
If I could go back, Id probably choose to stay with her. But then again, maybe Id regret that just as much and wonder if the grass was greener somewhere else.
