My ex’s mom always disliked me. At a holiday dinner, she gave me a beautifully wrapped box—inside was an industrial toilet brush. Everyone laughed, including my ex. He later accused me of not “taking a joke.” I stayed months longer, trying to win her over, but finally broke up with him after she mocked a Mother’s Day gift and he joined in.
Two years later, I ran into her while working at a vet clinic. She needed a dog walker, so I ended up helping her for months. She never apologized at first, but gradually warmed—offering tea, asking for help, letting me stay for soup. When her dog Muffin got sick, I rushed them to the emergency vet. After Muffin passed, she finally admitted she’d treated me horribly.
We eventually formed a quiet, unlikely friendship. That Christmas, she gave me a tiny porcelain toilet filled with cash and a note apologizing for “all the s**” she gave me. It weirdly healed something in me.
Now I visit her monthly. As for my ex? I declined when he tried to reconnect. The whole experience taught me this: you don’t have to prove your worth. The right people won’t make you.
