
I was 10 years old when my mother decided I didn’t fit into her new life with her “perfect son,” so she dumped me at my grandmother’s house. I tried to win her back one last time at a family dinner. I gave her a handmade card, hoping for a smile. Instead, she handed it to my brother and waved me off, saying, “What would I need it for? I have everything I want.” That was the last time I tried. My grandmother took me in without blinking, teaching me that real love doesn’t pick favorites. When Grandma passed away years later, leaving me everything, my mother showed up at the door. I didn’t let her in. I realized that while she birthed me, Grandma was the one who saved me.