**15th June**
I was allowed to choose which parent I wanted to live with. Two years later, I regretted my decision.
I always believed my father loved me more than my mother. He spoiled me; she scolded me. He was the peacemaker, while Mum was quick to argue. So when I heard about the divorce, part of me felt relieved. At thirteen, I didnt want to stay with Mumand besides, I thought Dad, as the breadwinner, could provide better for me. My parents asked my opinion. Mum hoped Id choose her, but she wasnt the least bit surprised when I picked Dad.
A year after we moved out, Dad found a new girlfriend. She was around Mums age, and he was smitten. She was polite to me, but without Mums warmth. When she and Dad had a daughter together, it was like they forgot I existed. Sometimes theyd go on trips just the three of them, not bothering to invite me, or theyd host fancy dinners when I wasnt around. My room now had a cot in it, and I hadnt slept properly since the baby arrivedcrying at night, my stepmother turning on the light to feed her.
Dad didnt care how it affected my mood or my schoolwork. He barely noticed when I stayed out late with friends. Eventually, I realised this couldnt go on. Ive got uni plans, ambitionsif I keep losing sleep, Ill never manage my studies. So, swallowing my pride, I called Mum.
Can I come over? I asked, not daring to hope. I rarely phoned her, let alone visited.
Of course, love. Stay as long as you like. Your sisters giving you grief, isnt she?
I felt sorry for her. Dad had his new family, his new life, while Mum was still alone.
I asked Dad if I could stay with Mum for a while, and he agreed straight away. He promised to send money, then never called. I think it was easier for everyone this way. Maybe because Im older now, but Mum and I get on like friends. She looks after me, supports me, while Dad and I just exchange the odd phone call. He thinks Im grown up; Mum still treats me like her little girl, making me dinner after work.
If I could turn back time, Id probably choose to stay with her. But then again, I mightve regretted that just as much, always wondering if the grass was greener. **Lesson learned: choices are never simple, and regret is just hindsight with a heavy heart. Sometimes I drive past Dads house, the baby now a chattering toddler on his knee. He waves, and I smile, but we dont stop. Mums kitchen light is always on when I come home, her slippers scuffing the floor as she pours tea and asks about my day. Its not perfectbut its mine. And for now, thats enough.
