I always knew I had a mother. But at times, it felt like she was my entire world. Even at 37, she checked in daily, asking the same questions.
I had my apartment, a steady job at a museum, a deep love for art history, a bank account, and two degrees. Yet, every time I saw Mom calling on my phone, I instinctively straightened up.
She dictated everything—from my bedtime to the color of my nails.
Then, I met Theo.
For the first time, I kept a secret from her. It lasted exactly three days