The Day I Learnt Abandonment

Reflection – 8 February 2026

An old memory returned today.
Not loudly.
Just enough to remind me where some of my deepest fears were born.

I was ten years old.

My mother was living with a man who, in my childhood memory, felt like a stepfather. We were living in his house. I was not happy there. I remember feeling constantly punished, constantly wrong.

That day, my younger sister and I fought. I don’t remember what it was about. I only remember that she was crying. I must have hurt her. She went to my mother.

My mother came to me.
She packed a small bag with some of my clothes.
And she pushed me out onto the street.

I cried uncontrollably, asking for forgiveness. Every time I tried to walk back toward the house, she pushed me out again. My sister and stepbrother watched. Neighbours watched.

I remember how terrifying it felt.

I began walking. I didn’t know where I was going. I was crying so hard I could barely see. I don’t know how long I walked. It felt endless.

What I remember most clearly is this,

I kept turning my head to see if my mother was coming for me.

She did not.

A woman I did not know picked me up. I cannot remember her face. I don’t know her name. But I remember her kindness. She took me to her home, consoled me, and later walked me back.

I remember standing outside the house while she spoke to my mother. I remember waiting to be accepted back inside. The woman hugged me and said, “Go to your mother. She is waiting for you.”

That day, something inside me learned.

Love can disappear without warning.
Safety can be taken away.
If I am rejected, I might not survive.

The deepest wound was not being sent out.
It was turning my head again and again, hoping she would come, and seeing that she did not.

From that moment, abandonment and rejection became wired into me.

Maybe if I wait long enough, they’ll come back.
Maybe if I am quiet enough, good enough, patient enough, I will be chosen again.

Today I am an adult.

And I made a promise to the ten-year-old girl walking alone on that street.

I will never let anyone or anything hurt us like that again.
I will protect us.

Today I am strong enough to say:

We were never disposable.
We were never unlovable.
We should never have been sent away.

And the woman whose face I cannot remember
she taught me something my pain could not erase.

Kindness exists.
Someone will stop.
Someone will see me.
Someone will see us.

This reflection is written with compassion, not blame.
I write to understand myself , not to judge anyone else.
I write to honour where I come from.