My Jaded Momma Story Begins…..
There are days that divide your life into before and after.
Mine was the day the boy who promised me forever — the boy who swore he loved me more than life — walked away without a goodbye…
after almost killing me in a car crash.
No apology.
No explanation.
No closure.
Just emptiness.
And the echo of a door that never even slammed — because he didn’t care enough to close it on his way out. Is the loudest most lingering slam never heard….
Of course, he didn’t do it alone. So let’s give credit where credit is due!
His mother — the enabler — made sure her son never faced the consequences of the life he helped create, or the trauma he caused. This was a woman I looked up too, a woman who self-defined herself as a Christian Mother, a Labor and Delivery Nurse who would allow me to come to the Hospital that she worked at to watch her perfect granddaughter on Ultrasound, grow inside my Belly. I believed her when she told me she Loved me and my baby girl, also!
At sixteen, I learned that some women raise sons to be DEADBEATS…
and can happily, destroys girl who never deserved the wreckage!
🌾 Before the baby, there was the girl.
A girl raised in a small country town where poverty was a label and cruelty was a sport.
A girl who lived in a trailer house across from the country club —
close enough to see what privilege looked like,
far enough to never away to never taste it.
A girl already carrying bruises that weren’t only on her skin —
bullied for being poor,
shamed for things no child should be blamed for,
navigating a home that felt more like a battlefield than a sanctuary.
Basketball was her escape.
Church was supposed to be my refuge.
But then my own church turned me away.
Me.
Not him.
He was still welcomed with open arms —
the good boy with the good family — his Grandfather and Uncles the Deacons,
while I was marked with the scarlet letter, they decided I deserved.
Funny how that works, isn’t it?
💔 And then came the promise.
He promised me forever.
Promised me a home that wasn’t filled with screaming.
Promised me a family that didn’t walk away.
Promised me safety — something I had never had in my life.
He knew my deepest secrets.
He knew the pain inside my walls.
He knew the bruises I hid behind smiles.
And he promised he’d save me.
But boys like that don’t save girls like me.
They use us and wound us deeper.
💥 The crash that changed everything.
One moment we were two kids in a car.
The next — metal twisting, glass shattering, a scream stuck in my throat.
I remember thinking,
This is it. This is how I die.
But we didn’t.
By the grace of God, we survived —
shaken, terrified, bleeding inside in ways no one could see.
I needed him in those moments.
I believed he would hold on tighter.
Instead, it made running easier.
Looking back, Maybe it was his escape plan after all?
His mother swooped in,
shielding him from responsibility,
from shame,
from adulthood,
from me
and from the child he helped create.
And just like that —
without a goodbye,
without a word,
without even looking back —
he was gone.
No apology for the crash.
No concern for our beautiful baby.
No regret.
Just silence.
A cold, final silence that settled into every corner of my life.
👣 Motherhood arrived long before I ever became a woman.
There was no nursery.
No celebration.
No “we.”
There was only me —
a terrified teen girl holding a baby
and a grief that felt too heavy for my shaking hands.
But when I held her and realized we had been left alone,
I made a promise stronger than any vow he ever gave me:
“I will never abandon you the way we were abandoned.”
And I kept that promise.
I keep that promise.
Every day.
Every night.
Every breath.
Promise Baby Girl!!