#65 Someday with my own son

12 August 2026 | 1:00 AM

I should be asleep right now. I have a site visit tomorrow, yet here I am staring at the ceiling, replaying thoughts that refuse to quiet down.

His mom will be coming home soon, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't anxious. It's strange how one person's arrival can make my heart feel so restless. Maybe it's because the memories are still there—the province trip, feeling like an outsider, the "red flag" comment, and all the little moments that slowly changed me.

He once told me that he felt like he is losing me because I was kinda changing.

He won't lose me. But changing... maybe I did.

But I didn't wake up one day and decide to become distant. I think I changed because I got hurt.

Tonight, though, I found myself wondering something different.

Maybe someday, if I become a mother and my own son finds the love of his life, I'll understand what she felt. Maybe I'll understand how bittersweet it is to watch your child grow into someone else's partner.

I hope that day comes.

Not because I want to justify the things that hurt me, but because understanding someone doesn't always mean agreeing with them. Maybe it simply means seeing their humanity.

If I ever become a mother-in-law, I hope I remember how it felt to be the girlfriend who just wanted to belong. I hope I make room at the table instead of making someone wonder if they deserve a seat.

For now, I'll try to sleep.

Tomorrow, I have a site visit. And somewhere between architectural drawings, construction dust, and MPLE flashcards, life will keep moving forward.

Maybe that's what healing looks like—not forgetting, but continuing anyway.