Last night, I received a message that I honestly never thought would come.
"my first priority is you, never think im ignoring."
"walla, u are my first priority, bcs u have a cute princess and it's my responsibility."
I
It was from Amalia’s father—the man who had been silent for so long.
Reading those words made my heart pause. I didn’t know whether to cry or feel relief. I’ve carried the weight of being both mother and father for years. I’ve answered every “why isn’t he here?” with as much grace and honesty as I could. I’ve celebrated Amalia’s wins alone and held her through her fears alone.
So when someone who had once turned away says you—and more importantly, your child—are a priority, it hits differently. Not because I’m suddenly expecting him to make up for lost time. Not because I’m relying on promises. But because, deep down, I’ve always wished Amalia could feel the love of both parents.
Whether this message is the start of something more or simply a small acknowledgment, I choose to receive it with cautious hope. Because even the smallest spark of responsibility can mean something big to a child who deserves it.
To every solo parent reading this: You’ve been enough all along. But if a door opens—even slightly—let it bring light, not pain. Let it be your choice how you welcome it.
This moment doesn’t rewrite the past, but maybe it just opens space for something new.
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