I spent $20,000 on my son’s wedding. During the reception, he took the microphone and said, “I want to thank my real mother,” and then turned to his stepmother to thank her. I didn’t scream or cry. I simply watched him as the guests turned to look at me. Three days later, I did something he’ll never forget.

Mathieu came into my life when he was five, after the tragedy that k.illed his parents.

I was a working woman, living in a small apartment, but I didn’t hesitate to take him in. I gave him everything I had: time, money, my dreams.

For years, I thought he knew the truth. But at 18, when he learned he was adopted, he simply said, “I knew you weren’t my real mother.” That was the first crack.

Then Sophie came into his life, and with her came destruction.

Her family lived in a wealthy neighborhood, and her mother, Isabelle, looked at me like I was an old rag. Despite everything, I kept trying.

A few months before our wedding, Mathieu asked me for $20,000. I gave him the money, thinking it would ensure his happiness.

But at the wedding, when he thanked Sophie’s mother, I felt an icy chill.

I remained motionless, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

Then, without a word, I stood up, looked him in the eyes, and calmly said, “I never asked for this.”

“Mathieu, you know, I gave you everything I had. I loved you like my own son, even if I wasn’t your biological mother. But I never asked for recognition, just a little respect.”

I didn’t scream, I didn’t cry. I had no more tears for him.

In that moment, I made a decision, a decision that would change everything between us.

I knew this moment would be decisive, that there would be no turning back.

I left him there, wordless, and walked out. A heavy silence hung in the air, as if the universe itself was holding its breath.

The wedding, the celebration, it all seemed so far away now.

The noise, the laughter, the condemning glances—none of it mattered to me anymore.

I set out on my own path, a path where I would no longer allow anyone to humiliate me or despise me, even the person I raised.

I didn’t know where this path would lead me, but I knew I could no longer live in the shadow of humiliation.

The door closed behind me, and with it, a part of my former life.