The last time I spoke with her has got to be, shit...11 years ago. She had flown about 1,000 miles to visit me, as I was at a really low point. I remember just wanting her to just say that she loved me, but all she would give me is the reminder that Jesus loved me despite all my sinful ways. If I’d just repent, she said. I sat there for a beat, and then told myself I was done.

I could do a rundown of all the events that led to me deciding to never speak to my mom again - her ultra religious, backwards approach to any and everything pretty much cover it generally - but that’s basically the worst humblebrag. It’s also not the point of this post.

I am always saddened by the loss of my mother in my life, but I am eternally grateful for the other ‘moms’ I was fortunate to have over the years. Whether it be a grade school teacher or neighbor or grandmother or even sister, I appreciate the women in my life who helped and continue to help me realize the best possible version of myself.