I Got Clean, But I Lost My Parents
I thought when I finally turned my life around — when I got clean, when I started walking on the path of recovery — my parents would be proud of me. Not for what I had, not for where I lived, not for how much money I earned… But simply because I made it. I survived. I didn’t ask for their money. I didn’t ask to move back in. I didn’t even ask for forgiveness for my past, because I’ve already owned it. All I wanted was a healthy relationship. A space to talk without fear. A bond that wasn’t built on guilt, control, or fear — but on love, mutual respect, and peace. But when I answered my mother’s call, it didn’t feel like love. It felt like the same old attempt to control me, to push me back into the role where I had no voice. And when I didn’t follow that script… suddenly, I was “bad” again. Clean or not, strong or not, my worth in her eyes still depended on how obedient I was — not on who I’ve become. That realization broke something inside me. And my father… God, how I miss him. He’s ...