Raine Williams - November 16th, 2025
I sat across from Myra, equal parts angry and hesitant. She looked annoyed that I wanted her to come here instead of meeting at some upscale restaurant that she frequented. When I told her that what I had to say didn’t need to be discussed around strangers, of course, the first thing out of her mouth was that she hoped that I wasn’t just wasting her time. I almost said “forget it,” but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to go another night without knowing the whole truth behind my birth and why she ended up being my sister instead of my mother.
“So…are you gonna say what you have to say, or are we just going to sit here babysitting our tea?” She asked, finally breaking the silence that had settled between us for the last ten minutes.
I sighed deeply, shaking my head before locking eyes with her. One of her eyebrows shot up. “Myra, I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to be one hundred percent truthful with me, okay?”
She sighed, rolling her eyes. “How much money do you need?”
“What?” I asked, taken aback. “I don’t want your damn money, Myra.”
“Then whatdoyou want, Raine, because I don’t have time to sit here and wonder what nonsense you made me miss church for,” she huffs, and I feel slightly discouraged, but I hear Ginger and Dawn in the back of my head telling me to speak my peace, even if it was hard as hell.
“I want to know why you hate me so much,” I finally say, and she flashes me a confused look.
“What? Raine, I don’t hate you,” she tells me.
Now it was my turn to scoff. “Well, you could’ve fooled me,” I chuckled dryly. “Is it because I look like him?”
She freezes, her eyes wide and her mouth opening and closing as if trying to figure out what to say. “W-Who?” She stampers.
“Whoever the hell my dad is!” I yell, frustrated. She gasps, and her face turns pale as if she’d seen a ghost. “Did you treat me the way you did all of these years because I looked like the man you almost messed up your perfect life for? Huh?!”
“Raine, I-I…how did you…when did you find out?”
“So, it’s true?” I asked. “You’re really my birth mom?”
She hesitated before nodding, and I sat back in my seat. Even though I already knew this, it still felt surreal to have her admit it. My mind was once again crowded with all of the questions I had for her, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask them. The only thing that came out of my mouth was one simple question.
“What’s his name?” I ask, but when she doesn’t immediately reply, my annoyance grows. “The least you can do is let me know who he is in case I run into him on the street.”
“H-His name is...was...Terrence,” she replies. “Terrence Green. But you don’t have to worry about running into him because he passed away about twenty-five years ago.”
“Wha...What?”
“Raine, I’m so sorry,” she said as she got up to sit beside me. She reached for my hand, but I moved it away and set it in mylap. “Raine, please, just hear me out, okay? I know it may seem like I hate you, but I don’t. I love you, I always have. It’s just hard…being around you sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because, Raine, I loved him with all of my heart, and even at 17, we knew that we wanted to be together forever,” she said through tears. “We always talked about how we’d have three kids in the future and live in a glorious, two-story house with a flower garden and enough space in the backyard to play. I was so convinced that we’d have that.”
“What happened?”
“Our parents happened,” She admitted. “I found out I was pregnant. I was young and was scared out of my mind, but I justknewwe’d get through it together. When I broke the news to him, he was scared too, but promised to be there for me every step of the way. He came to all of my appointments the first few months, and I thought that everything was gonna be okay.” She shook her head as she wiped her eyes. “Then one day, he started to become distant. It’s as if his whole demeanor had changed overnight. Like his feelings for me had vanished in thin air.”
“I was so confused as to why things had changed so suddenly, but it wasn’t until I overheard Mom on the phone with his parents talking about how separating us would be the best for both of our futures that it finally clicked,” she continued. “Next thing I knew, he was breaking up with me and moving out of state to go to college, and that was the last time I saw or heard from him until a few years later when I saw a Facebook post saying that he had passed in a car accident along with his older brother. So, imagine not only being heartbroken, but also having to raise a child while living under the same roof as Mom. It was unbearable.”
“Wait, this is too much to process at once,” I say, holding my hands up to stop her. I felt like my whole world was spinningway too fast in the wrong direction, and I wasn’t sure how to make it stop. I finally look at her again and see the tiredness in her eyes. “Are you saying that Mom...”
“Is a completely different person than she was when she raised me? Yes. Yes, I am. I know it’s hard to believe, but you were blessed enough to get the good version of Mom, Raine. You got to experience the calm side of her. You got the hugs and kisses and doting, meanwhile, I got the verbal abuse and judgment,” Myra shouted as more tears slowly fell from her eyes. My breath caught at her declaration. “The woman who raised you wasnotthe same woman who raised me, and I began tohateyou because of it.” She pauses, shaking her head. “Then I started hating myself for hating you because I knew none of this was your fault. You never asked to be born. Even to this day, I still feel bad for treating you the way I do, but that jealousy of you getting that soft love that our mom never gave to me always seems to win over. Because of her, I lost the love of my life, and you were, unfortunately, a constant reminder of that.”
I wanted to reply, but she pleaded with me to let her finish explaining everything. I was nervous, but I nodded anyway. I sat and listened as she explained just how verbally abusive and controlling our mom was when she was younger, from screaming at her in public for messing up on a test to giving her the silent treatment at home if she didn’t bring home straight As. She told stories of how she’d been berated, called out of her name, and even left to walk home alone after telling our mom that she didn’t want to follow in her footsteps as a doctor.
My stomach turned with every detail she revealed about how the woman I’d always thought so highly of treated her like shit just for not being perfect and how she tried to control her at every turn. It was the stuff you saw on TV or read in books. Never in a million years did I think something like this had happened to someone so close to me.
I sat there, soaking everything she’d just told me, but my mouth was dry, and my brain couldn’t form a coherent string of words to reply. For the first time in forever, I felt like I was finally seeing the woman behind the facade of perfectly done hair, impeccable pantsuits, and a permanent unamused expression.
For the first time in forever, I was seeing the real Myra. The Myra who wasn’t as strong as she let on. The Myra who cried when things got tough. The Myra who didn’t try to run away from her big feelings but embraced them instead. The Myra who was still heartbroken over losing someone who she thought would be her forever love. And as pissed off as I was at the whole situation, I also felt sorry for her. I could see that she was hurting. I could see the regret, and all I wanted to do was cry for her.
