It was a typical Tuesday afternoon when I received a call from my daughter's school. The voice on the other end of the line told me that my 18-year-old daughter, Ariana, had not attended her classes that day. My heart sank. As a mother, I immediately went into panic mode, calling her friends and checking all the places she could be. But after hours of searching, my worst fears were confirmed—Ariana had run away.
As I sat on my daughter's bed, surrounded by her favorite stuffed animals and posters, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of anger. How could she do this to me? To our family? Didn't she know how much she was hurting us? How much was she hurting me?
I was angry that she didn't trust me enough to come to me with whatever problems or issues she was facing. I had always prided myself on being a good listener and a supportive mother, and yet she felt the need to run away instead of confiding in me. It made me question where I had gone wrong as a parent.
I was angry at myself for not seeing the signs. Looking back, there were little things that should have raised red flags: her sudden mood swings and the increase in arguments between us. But I was too caught up in my busy schedule to pay attention. I should have been more present in my daughter's emotional state.
Was this about her dad? I remember her asking me about him. but I shut it down. It ended in a bad argument.
As the days turned into weeks, the anger only grew. Whenever I saw her empty room, it felt like a constant reminder of her absence. I couldn't help but think of all the dangers out there—drugs, human trafficking, and other predators.
HIM
And when I say him, I mean Ariana's dad. I still remember the day he walked out on us.
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It was a normal day, just like any other, when my daughter's father, Hiram, came to visit us. Ariana was only three years old at the time, but she was over the moon to see her dad. As usual, he brought her favorite chocolate and toys, and we spent the day playing and laughing together. Everything seemed perfect, and I remember thinking to myself that this was the picture-perfect family I had always dreamed of.
