I miss being my daughter’s mom

I know, I know. I will always be a Mother. I will always love my daughter. I will always worry about her. I will always want what is best for her. And I will always be here for her, no matter what. That is all true, but it is also not what I am talking about.

I miss my daughter every day. And I miss being her every day mom. I miss being the person to hear her confidences, to see her smiles, hear her giggles on an every day basis. I miss being the person who holds her when she cries. I miss being the one who helps her with her homework. I even miss fighting with her.

The thing is, I talk to my daughter on a regular basis. I see her pretty often, too, considering she lives in a different state, and is a minimum 3.5 hours away, if I take a plane. But being non-custodial changes everything. On some level, I could be talking to her daily, seeing her multiple times a week, and I would still miss being her mom.

The parents she lives with are her every day parents. And they need to be. It just would not work if I were trying to do daily parenting. And she is doing great where she is. This is the right decision for her. I am super proud of her for being able to make this decision, for being able to articulate it, for understanding that where she is now is a better environment for her, and taking the fullest advantage of that. She is thriving in ways she was not able to with us. And yes, that is hard to admit and hurts like hell, but as her (capital letter) Mom, this is exactly what I want for her.

We do what is best for our children because what we want more than anything is what is best for them. We put ourselves last many times. We endure a million little hurts. And we do it because we love them, because we are Moms or Dads.

But I am no longer her mom. I do not check in to make sure her alarm is set before I leave the house anymore. I do not tuck her in at night. I do not even get to say “goodnight” every night. I get to see her big events. I get to hear about the exciting things in her life. And occasionally, I still get breakdowns to help her through. And I cherish every single one of those moments.

But I no longer get the “stuff and things” of her regular day. And I miss it. I miss every single part of it, every single part of her.

And that simply is.