I fell pregnant at sixteen while still at school. In our little English village, the news caused quite the uproar. People would whisper and point at me, while my parents just wanted the ground to swallow them up with shame. My father could hardly bear to look at me.
It wouldve been better if youd never been born than bring such disgrace! Off you go to your grans, I cant cope with this any longer.
So off I went, bags in hand, to stay with my grandmother on the outskirts of another nearby village. Her house was old and draughty; it always felt cold and rather gloomy, but I endured it. The toughest part was the last months of pregnancy: nobody came to help, and there wasnt a soul to look out for me. When my labour started, the ambulance barely arrived in time. Still, I managed, and I brought up my son alone in that creaky cottage.
Everyone said I needed to find a husband, but I wasnt interested. My only focus was my son, Philip. When he grew up and got into university, I finally followed others from our area and went abroad to work finding myself in Italy.
Id never wanted to leave before; I simply couldnt bear the thought of abandoning Philip. Compared to my old village life, working overseas felt like luxury. I cared for an elderly lady there who treated me kindly, and I earned enough to get by sometimes shed slip me a little extra, maybe 100 or 200 euros as a thank you. Those savings allowed me, after a few years, to buy Philip a one-bedroom flat back in England and provide for him.
But money changed him. He stopped visiting his grandmother, which broke my heart, though I still sent him £500 each month and put aside what I could to eventually buy myself a place. Going back to that tumble-down house was simply not an option.
Several years passed and Philip announced he was getting married. Naturally, I paid for the wedding and helped with everything they might need. I thought that, at last, I could start saving for myself, just a little. But five years on, theyd had two children, and when war broke out, my daughter-in-law fell pregnant with a third. I continued helping with money whenever I could. Despite all this, I managed to save £20,000 for a small flat for myself. As luck would have it, a friend was selling a lovely one-bedroom with fresh décor and offered it to me.
That summer I came back to England to sort out the paperwork with the solicitorand thats when Philip sprang a surprise on me.
Mum, weve sold the flat and bought a house. We made the first payment, but we need you to help with the secondits £18,000.
What money? I was about to buy my own flat!
Mum, we cant live in a one-bed with three children! I counted on you.
Why didnt you save any of the money I sent? You never even told me! No, youll have to sort the money yourselfIve already agreed to this sale. In the future, I can help a little, but not that much.
Dont you care about your grandchildrens wellbeing?
Of course I care. Thats why I sent £500 every month. You couldve saved up in that time.
Youll earn more abroad. Why do you need a flat here now? Youre just going back to Italy anyway!
And if something happens? If I have to come back suddenly, or fall ill, where will I live?
You can just stay with Gran in the village!
Then you go back there with your children instead!
I put my foot down and didnt hand over the money. I couldnt let myself lose the chance at a home of my own. Philip was terribly upset and stopped speaking to me for a while. I heard he borrowed what he could from all over to make their house payment. But really, was I supposed to keep bailing him out forever? How much is one person expected to give?
Sometimes, true love means setting boundaries. If we give everything, all the time, we can forget to care for ourselves. In looking after others, we shouldnt lose sight of our own future and well-being. That, too, matters.
