I kept reading the text message over and over—at least ten times. Was she serious? She said she’d spent her life giving me “everything I needed.” But then, why was I struggling so much right now? In that moment, I felt abandoned, betrayed, and hurt. My mind raced with frustration.
I started typing a response—something full of raw emotion—but halfway through, I stopped. No, this wasn’t something I could resolve over text. I needed to talk to her face-to-face. Maybe she didn’t understand how bad things had gotten for me. So, I called her.
When she picked up, I wasted no time. “Mom, I think you’re missing the point. I’m barely keeping my head above water while you’re living comfortably. How is that fair?”
I could hear her take a deep breath on the other end. “I get it, honey. I really do. But please, try to understand—this is my season now. It’s not that I’m being unkind, but I spent decades worrying about you, about work, about bills. I gave up my own dreams to give you opportunities I never had.”
I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. “But what good were those opportunities if I’m still drowning in debt?”
There was a long pause before she spoke again, her voice soft but steady. “Tell me, sweetheart. What exactly do you need from me?”
I hesitated for a moment, unsure. “I don’t know… Maybe help with my credit card bills, rent… or even my car payments. Just some financial help to get me through.”
Another sigh came from the other end of the line. “Listen, darling, I love you more than anything in this world, but money won’t fix this. You need to figure out how you ended up here in the first place.”
Her words hit hard. “Are you saying this is my fault?”
“No, not at all,” she said quickly. “But you do have some responsibility in this.”
My grip on the phone tightened, my frustration rising, but I stayed quiet.
She continued, “You’re an adult now. You have a steady job, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice tight. “But it’s not enough to cover everything.”
“And have you been keeping track of your spending? Have you made a budget?”
I stayed silent, because the truth was—no, I hadn’t. I knew I was overspending, but I never wanted to admit it. I lived paycheck to paycheck, swiping my card every time I wanted something, hoping that somehow, the money would work itself out.
She spoke gently, “Honey, I didn’t raise you to rely on others. I know it’s hard, but you can get through this. I’ll always be here for you, but I can’t just give you money every time things get tough. I want to help you find a way out. Something that will last.”
I wasn’t sure where this conversation was going. “Like what?”
She paused, then said calmly, “Well, we can start by looking at your finances together. We’ll make a budget and find areas to cut back. I can even recommend a financial consultant to help.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh. “So no big cash handout?”
“No, dear,” she said, sounding firm but kind. “If I gave you money now, you’d just end up right back where you are. You need to learn how to handle this for yourself.”
I felt a surge of anger, but deep down, I knew she was right. She wasn’t being selfish. She was trying to teach me something important. I had always struggled with managing money, and maybe it was time to face it head-on.
“Experiencing hard times doesn’t mean you’re a failure,” she continued, her voice warm and encouraging. “Everyone faces difficulties eventually. You can let this moment define you as powerless, or you can change your circumstances.”
I let out a long breath. “So you’re not going to fix my debt for me?”
She laughed softly, a sound that felt like comfort. “No, honey. But I’ll help you learn how to avoid getting into this situation again.”
I thought about what she said. Maybe I’d been looking at things all wrong. My mom wasn’t abandoning me—she was trusting me to handle things on my own. She was giving me the tools to fix my situation.
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Okay, let’s go over my budget.”
The next few months weren’t easy, but they were a turning point. It wasn’t an overnight transformation, but step by step, I started to get control of my finances. With my mom’s help, I created a budget, started tracking my spending, and cut out unnecessary purchases. I even picked up a side job to bring in some extra income.
Surprisingly, it worked. Slowly but surely, my debt started to go down. For the first time in years, I felt like I had control over my money, instead of the other way around.
And you know what? My view of my mom shifted, too. I didn’t feel angry or resentful anymore. I realized she wasn’t abandoning me—she was showing me that I could stand on my own. I felt proud of her when she sent me pictures of her trip to Greece, something she’d always dreamed of. I didn’t envy her anymore. I admired her.
She deserved that happiness. And so did I.
The most important lesson I learned? Nobody is obligated to fix your problems. And that’s actually a good thing. Because when you take responsibility for your own life and start solving your own problems, you find a sense of fulfillment that no amount of outside help can give you.
If you’re feeling lost or alone, remember—you’re not the only one. Everyone goes through struggles. And the strength to get through them? It’s within you, waiting to be unlocked. You just have to believe in yourself and take the first step.
