I adopted my daughter, Lily, and out of fear of losing her, I lied. I told her that her birth mother, Serena, had moved on and never looked back.
Years later, Lily found her—and the truth. I had promised Serena updates, photos, letters, but never sent a single one. I told myself it was to protect Lily, but really, I was protecting myself.
When Lily came home, she said, “I’m not mad. Just heartbroken. You let me believe I wasn’t wanted.”
That broke me. But honesty began to heal what lies had shattered.
Now Lily has two moms—one who gave her life, one who raised her. I thought truth would drive her away, but it brought us closer.
Because love doesn’t need perfection. Just honesty—and the courage to say, “I was wrong. But I’m still here.”
