I raised my son completely on my own. From the moment he was born, he meant the world to me. My entire life revolved around him. I never spent money on myself, never took time off, and I honestly can’t remember the last time I had a full night’s sleep — every sacrifice I made was for him.

I worked day and night: at the post office, washing dishes in a café, cleaning. As people asked why I was exhausting myself, I always said: “I want my son to have everything I never had.”

I thought that when I got old, he would be there. That he wouldn’t leave me, wouldn’t betray me. He always said: “Mommy, when I grow up — I’ll buy you a house and a car!” And I believed him. Because he was my boy.

However, everything changed when a girl appeared in his life. I knew from the first glance — she wouldn’t bring anything good.

She looked at me with a cold smirk. She never called me by name. Not “ma’am,” not “mom” — just “you.”

She immediately began convincing him that I was “holding him back.” She shamed him for helping me and said:

— Why are you giving money to your mom? Let her work if she wants to eat.

— Stop dragging her around. You have your own family now.

She schemed, talked him out of visiting me. Told people I was “manipulating him,” though I was only calling occasionally to ask if he was okay.

When I brought him a pie — she threw him out saying:

— Let her wash her hands from someone else’s kitchen before bringing food.

He grew colder. Every day I felt I was losing my son. And then — one morning — he said:

— Mom, I want to take you somewhere. Just stay there for a while. Rest.

There was no warmth or care in his voice. I felt where he was taking me. But I went. Because he was my child.

We drove for a long time. Farther and farther from the city. At some point, he stopped. A desolate road. No houses, no people. Only sand and wind.

— Get out, he said.

I got out. He didn’t look me in the eye. He silently shut the door and drove off, leaving me in the middle of nowhere.

Back then, I couldn’t have imagined that just a month later, my son would come back begging for forgiveness  But who needs it now? I’m sharing my story in the first comment and hoping for your support 

I stood there in disbelief. It felt like my heart had been ripped out. I didn’t scream. The tears didn’t even come. There was only silence and pain. I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t know how to go on.

I just stood and prayed to wake up from this nightmare.

A distant relative picked me up. He lived alone in a village and gave me shelter. I didn’t call my son. I didn’t want to hear his voice.

A month passed. And then — he came.He stood on his knees before me, crying like a child.

It turned out his girlfriend betrayed him. She cheated on him with his friend. Stole almost all their money from their shared account. Ran away. Left him in debt and shame.

He said that when he kicked me out, he thought he was doing the right thing. That he was building a “new life.” But in truth, he was destroying everything.

He begged for forgiveness. He kissed my hands. His tears rolled down his cheeks.

— Mom, forgive me… I forgot who truly loves me.And I just looked at him and thought:

Do I even need that forgiveness anymore?