I found my daughters diary, where she wrote about hating me.
«No, just look at her! Back at last! And what on earth is that in your nose?»
Emily stood in the hallway, arms crossed. Her voice, usually gentle, now rang with anger. Lily, her sixteen-year-old daughter, slowly tugged off her trainers, avoiding her mothers gaze. A tiny stud with a glittering stone winked from the side of her nose.
«Its a nose piercing, Mum. Everyone has them.»
«Everyone? Whos ‘everyver’? Your new friend Chloe with the ten earrings? Is that who ‘everyone’ is? I told you not to hang around with her!»
«Chloes fine! You dont even know her!» Lily finally looked up, her eyes sharp with tears. «And I didnt ask your permission. Its my body.»
«Your body?» Emily stepped closer. «While you live under my roof, on my money, your body is my concern! Do you have any idea what could happen if it gets infected? Tetanus? Where did you even get this donesome filthy basement with a dirty needle?»
«I went to a proper studio! It was sterile! Why do you always jump to the worst?»
«Jump to the worst?! I waited up till midnightyou didnt answer your phone! I was calling hospitals, morgues! And all this time, you were getting a bloody piercing! Take it out. Now.»
«No!» Lily straightened, nearly matching her mothers height. «Its my life, and Ill decide how I look! You hate everything I likemy music, my friends, my clothes!»
«Because its all rubbish!» Emilys voice cracked. «Youre supposed to study, go to uni, not ruin yourself and run around God knows where!»
Lily shoved past her, slamming her bedroom door so hard the china in the display cabinet rattled.
«I hate you!» she yelled before the door crashed shut.
Emily stood frozen in the silent hallway. The word «hate» echoed in her ears. She leaned against the wall, legs weak, heart pounding. Why? Why was it like this? She did everything for her. Worked two jobs so Lily could have the bestdesigner clothes, tutors, holidays. Shed given up her own life when her husband left, dedicating herself entirely to her daughter. And this was her thanks. «I hate you.»
She trudged to the kitchen, mechanically filling the kettle. Her hands shook. Images flashed in her mindLily as a little girl with oversized bows, trustingly holding out her hands; Lily in her first school uniform, proudly clutching gladiolus flowers; Lily hugging her and whispering, «Mummy, youre the best.» Where had that girl gone? When had her sweet, loving child turned into this spiky, angry stranger?
The bedroom door stayed shut. No sound came from within. Emily knew any attempt at peace would be met with hostility. She had to wait. She always had to wait for the storm to pass.
The next morning, Saturday, Emily woke early as usual. She made breakfast. Lilys door remained closed. Emily knocked.
«Lily, come eat. Itll get cold.»
Silence.
«Sweetheart, can you hear me?»
«Not hungry,» came the muffled reply.
Emily sighed. She ate alone, washed up. The flats silence pressed down, thick and heavy. Saturdays were usually their timecleaning together, shopping, watching films. Today, the house felt cold and foreign.
She decided to clean. It always helped her think. She dusted the living room, mopped the kitchen. Only Lilys room remained. Normally, Lily tidied it herself. But now now Emily needed an excuse to breach the icy wall between them.
She knocked again.
«Lily, Im mopping. Open up.»
The door cracked open. Lily stood by the window, back turned, headphones on. Emily entered with bucket and cloth. The room was its usual teenage chaosclothes strewn, books piled, sketches scattered. She mopped quietly, careful not to disturb. Lily didnt turn.
Then Emily spotted something under the bed. A pink notebook with a tiny lock. A diary. She remembered giving it to Lily last birthday. Lily had laughed»Mum, who keeps diaries anymore? Thats so old-school.» Apparently, she did.
Her heart skipped. No. This was wrong. A violation. But that word»hate»burned inside her. She had to understand.
She finished cleaning.
«Done,» she murmured.
Lily nodded without looking. Emily left, gently closing the door. The rest of the day, she was distracted. The diary gnawed at her. What was in it? Boys? Friends? Or her?
That evening, Lily muttered she was going out with Chloe and left. Emily waited, then crept into her room, hands trembling. She felt like a thief.
The diary was still there. The flimsy lock gave way to a paperclip. Emily sat on Lilys bed, opening it.
Neat, childish handwriting. School notes, a maths test, a new song by some band Emily didnt know. Page after page, shame grew. She was trespassing.
Then she found last weeks entry.
«Aunt Sarah came over today. Again with the Emily, youre a saint, raising her alone! And Lilys so clever, so perfect, your pride and joy! I sat there smiling like an idiot. Inside, I was boiling. Her pride and joy. Her project. Do I get to be anything for myself? Or just live up to her dreams? Get top grades, go to the right unithe one she picks. Sometimes I feel like a doll she dresses up and shows off.»
Emilys fingers went cold. Shed never thought that. She was just proud. Was that so wrong?
She turned the page. An entry from a month ago.
«Mum screamed at me for being an hour late. The neighbours probably heard. Then she cried, saying shes alone, that Im all she has, that shes scared for me. Classic move. Yell first, guilt-trip after. And I fall for it every time. I feel awful. Like I owe her for being born. Like I should sacrifice my life to keep her happy.»
A lump rose in Emilys throat. Did Lily really see her love as manipulation? But she *was* scared. The world was dangerous.
Every line was a blow. Offhand remarks, recorded and dissected. Her advice taken as criticism. Her care seen as control. Her lovea leash.
Then, the worst page. Last nights entry after their fight. The handwriting was jagged, furious.
«I hate her. Hate her! Shell never let me breathe. She invades every part of mewho I see, what I wear, what I think. Today, the piercing I thought so hard about it. It was my choice. My step toward being me. And sheTake that rubbish out. Didnt even ask why. Just decided it was wrong because it doesnt fit her perfect world. Im suffocating. I want to run away. Anywhere. Just to escape her judging face. I hate her love. I hate her care. I HATE HER.»
Emily closed the diary. Her whole body shook. She stared at the pink cover, unable to believe her sweet girl wrote those cruel words. Her Lily.
Her world crashed. Everything she believedher life built around her daughterwas a lie. She wasnt a loving mother but a jailer. Not a support but a cage. She thought she gave everythingbut shed taken Lilys life instead.
She slid the diary back under the bed. Stumbled to the sofa. Sat with her head in her hands. Tears fell unnoticed. Inside, only icy emptiness. All her sacrifices, worthless. Because of one word: «hate.»
She didnt know how long she sat there. Lily returned, pausing in the doorway.
«Mum? You okay?»
Emily looked up slowly. She saw her daughterthe nose ring, the skull-print hoodie, the defensive stanceand saw a stranger. Someone who hated her.
«Just a headache,» she said dully.
«Take paracetamol,» Lily muttered, disappearing into her room.
Emily didnt sleep. She replayed every diary line, every memory. And with horror, realised Lily was right. She *had* criticised her friends. Mocked her music. Used guilt after fights. She thought it was love. But it was selfishnessclinging to Lily, smothering her.
Next morning, she called her best friend, Sophie.
«Soph, can you talk?»
«Em? You sound awful. Whats wrong?»
And she spilled it allthe fight, the diary, the hate.
Sophie was silent a long time. Then she sighed.
«Em you *do* keep her under a microscope. Remember when you moaned about Chloe? Whats so bad about her? Shes sixteen, not forty. Remember us at that age? Dyed hair, sneaking to gigs? Our mums lost their minds too.»
«But this is different»
«Its *exactly* the same, Em. We forget. We want our kids to skip our mistakes. But they need their own. Lily doesnt hate *you*. She hates being controlled. She loves youI know it. But she needs you to see her as a person. Not your perfect daughter project. Someone with rightsto stupid choices, nose rings, terrible music.»
«What do I do?» Emily whispered. «Tell her I read it?»
«God, no! Thatd be betrayal. You know what hurts her now. Change. Slowly. Give her space. Show interestnot as a critic, but a friend.»
«I cant.»
«You can. You love her. But your loves too heavy. Lighten it.»
All day, Emily thought about that. *Lighten it.* How? Let go? Stop controlling? But it was terrifying. What if Lily made mistakes?
That evening, Lily emerged, ready to go out. Emily forced a smile.
«Lily, wait.»
Lily tensed, bracing for a lecture.
«Going out with Chloe?» Emily kept her voice calm.
«Yeah.»
«Whatll you do? Cinema?»
«Nah, just café. Maybe hers after. Listen to music.»
Emily nodded. Deep breath.
«About your piercing» Lily stiffened. «Its unusual. But if you like it I guess its trendy now. Just keep it clean, okay? So it doesnt get infected.»
Lily stared, stunned. Shed expected shouting, threats. Not this.
«Okay,» she mumbled.
«And dont stay out too late, please,» Emily added softly. «I worry.»
She didnt say *»Youre all I have.»* Just *»I worry.»*
Lily nodded silently and left.
Alone, Emily ached. Every instinct screamed, *Stop her! What if shes with the wrong crowd!* But she held back. She remembered the diarys rage.
The next weeks were the hardest of her life. She learned to listen, not lecture. To ask, not demand. Once, she entered Lilys room while music blared. Before, shed have winced and left. Now, she paused.
«Loud?» Lily asked, removing an earbud.
«No,» Emily sat on the bed. «What are you listening to?»
Lily eyed her suspiciously but handed over the earbud. Harsh beats and aggressive lyrics poured out. Emily made herself listen.
«Interesting,» she said, returning it. «Whats it about?»
Lily, surprised, explainedsocial justice, rebellion. Emily nodded (understanding little), but saw Lilys eyes soften, the usual defensiveness fading. For the first time, they talked about something *she* cared about.
Small steps. Another day, Emily spotted sketches on Lilys desk. Before, shed have said, *»Focus on your exams, not doodling.»* Now, she stopped. They were costume designswild, imaginative.
«Youre so creative,» she said honestly. «These are beautiful.»
«Thanks,» Lily mumbled, flushing.
Progress wasnt linear. There were fights, setbacks. But the air between them changed. Emily learned to see Lily as her own person. Lily, sensing freedom, lowered her guard.
One evening, they sat quietly over tea. Not the old, oppressive silencebut a comfortable one.
«Mum,» Lily said suddenly. «Remember you asked about uni?»
Emilys heart stalled. She braced for *»Im not going»* or *»Im moving far away.»*
«Ive been looking theres a design college. For costume design. I want to try.»
Before, Emily wouldve panicked. *Design?* *What about law or finance?* But she looked at Lilys eager face and remembered the diary. *»Her project.»*
«That sounds exciting,» she said slowly. «What do you need? Exams? A portfolio?»
«Yeah, my drawings. And English and Art grades.»
«Your Arts always been strong,» Emily smiled. «Lets pick your best pieces, present them properly.»
Lily gaped.
«You youre okay with this?»
Emily sighed.
«Love, I was wrong. I wanted the best for you*my* version. But you deserve your own happiness. If this is what you love, then go for it.»
Lilys eyes welled up. She hugged Emilytight, hesitant. The first hug in years.
«Thank you, Mum,» she whispered.
Emily held her, breathing in her shampoo. That pink diaryunopened since that awful nighthadnt been a curse, but a gift. It shattered her perfect world, brought unbearable pain but woke her up. Made her see her daughter as a person. Gave her a chancemaybe her lastto love properly. Not for her own sake.
Just because.
