My kids told me they wished I didn’t exist, and those words cut deeper than anything I’d ever heard. They were angry, careless—but I decided to take their wish seriously. I vanished from their lives, leaving no trace. It was time they learned what life would be like without Mom.
I’d heard it countless times—people saying housewives had it easy. They stayed home, relaxed, and lived off their husbands’ hard work. What a joke!
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Let me tell you, my being a stay-at-home mom wasn’t just a job; it was an endless marathon with no breaks. My days were a blur of cleaning, cooking, managing tantrums, and juggling a thousand other things.
Tom, my sweet but stubborn five-year-old, was at that age where every little thing was a battle.
Eliza, on the other hand, was teetering on the edge of her pre-teen years—full of sass and mood swings.
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And my husband, Justin? He thought his paycheck excused him from everything else. It was exhausting.
That evening, as usual, we sat down for dinner together. Sharing our day had become a routine, though it often came with surprises.
I looked at Tom, who was already playing with his peas. “Tom, how was preschool today?” I asked, trying to sound cheerful.
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He shrugged. “It was okay, but Miss Jackson might call you tomorrow.”
That caught my attention. “Why would she call me?” I asked, putting down my fork.
“I just wanted to pet a dog outside, but Miss Jackson said you shouldn’t touch stray dogs because they can have rab—rabai—” Tom paused, frowning.
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“Rabies,” Eliza said with an exaggerated eye roll.
Tom nodded. “Yeah, rabies.”
I leaned forward. “And why does that mean she might call me?”
Tom hesitated, then blurted, “Well, I didn’t like what she said, so I bit her.”
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I stared at him, shocked. “You bit your teacher?” My voice rose without meaning to.
Tom nodded, completely unbothered. “She said rabies spreads by bites. I wanted to show her.”
“Mom, you gave birth to a lunatic,” Eliza muttered, smirking.
“Don’t talk about your brother like that,” I said firmly. Then I turned to Justin, who was busy eating. “Justin, do you have anything to say about this?”
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He glanced up briefly. “You’re handling it great, honey,” he said, patting my hand.
I sighed, turning back to Tom. “Tom, we’ve talked about this. You can’t bite people. It hurts, and it’s wrong. Next time, use words to express how you feel.”
Finally, I faced Eliza. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” she said, barely looking up.
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“That’s all?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m sleeping over at Nancy’s tomorrow, remember?” she added casually.
“Yes, I remember,” I said, feeling my energy drain.
The next day started badly and only got worse. When I went into Tom’s room to check if he had cleaned up like I’d asked, it looked like a tornado had hit it.
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Toys, clothes, and books were everywhere. I felt my patience slipping, but there wasn’t time to deal with it.
I had to apologize to Miss Jackson for Tom biting her, which was embarrassing enough.
Then, as I finally sat down to breathe, the phone rang. Eliza’s school informed me she had skipped classes. My anger boiled over. By the time they got home, I was ready for a serious talk.
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“Wait, both of you, stop right there,” I said as Tom and Eliza headed to their rooms. My voice made them freeze.
“What is it now?” Eliza asked, sounding irritated.
“Let’s start with Tom,” I said, turning to him. “I saw your room. It’s a disaster. We agreed that if you didn’t keep it clean, I’d take away your games. So, your console is mine until you show me you can keep your room tidy.”
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Tom’s eyes went wide. “What? No! That’s not fair!” he yelled, crossing his arms.
Eliza smirked. “Nice job, Tom,” she said with a mocking tone.
“I wouldn’t laugh if I were you, young lady,” I snapped. “I got a call from your school today. They told me you skipped class.”
“It was one time! Just one!” Eliza shouted, her face red with anger.
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“You’re grounded for a week,” I said firmly. “No sleepover at Nancy’s.”
“You can’t do this! ‘’ve been planning that forever!” Eliza screamed, clenching her fists.
“Then you shouldn’t have skipped class,” I replied calmly.
“I hate you! I wish you didn’t exist!” she yelled before stomping off to her room and slamming the door.
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“Yeah! Me too!” Tom shouted, running to his own room.
I stood there, tears welling up. My chest felt heavy, but I swallowed the lump in my throat.
When Justin got home, I recounted everything. He listened quietly, barely responding.
“Well?” I asked, desperate for some support.
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“Maybe you were too hard on them,” he said, shrugging. “They’re just kids.”
“Did you hear me? Did you hear what Eliza said to me?” I asked, my voice shaking with anger.
“She didn’t mean it,” he said, brushing it off.
“I’ve had enough,” I said, my voice cold. “I’ll show them what it’s like when I’m not here.”
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“What are you talking about?” Justin asked, confused.
“You’ll see,” I said and walked away.
That night, as the house lay silent, I began my plan. Justin, always a heavy sleeper, didn’t stir once.
I moved quietly, gathering every single thing that was mine—clothes from the closet, photos from the walls, notebooks from the desk.
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Even my favorite mug, the one I used every morning, went into a box. I left no sign that I had ever been there.
With everything packed, I carried it all up to the attic. The attic was dusty and cramped, but I set up a mattress in the corner, arranging a small lamp and a blanket. Justin wouldn’t think to look here; he barely remembered the attic existed.
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Before settling in, I set up cameras in the kitchen and living room. I needed to see how they managed without me. This was only the beginning.
The next morning, I watched them from the camera feed as they stood in the kitchen, looking lost.
“Where’s Mom?” Tom asked, his voice unsure.
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“I don’t know,” Eliza said, glancing around. “But even her pictures are gone. The ones on the wall, too.”
“Her clothes aren’t in the closet,” Justin added, scratching his head.
Tom’s eyes widened. “Did our wish come true? Did Mom really disappear?”
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“Don’t be ridiculous,” Justin said, shaking his head.
“But she’s really gone!” Eliza insisted. “Her stuff isn’t here. There’s no sign of her at all.”
Justin pulled out his phone. “I’ll call her. This is probably some kind of joke.” But I had turned my phone off. He stared at the screen for a moment before putting it back in his pocket.
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“Okay, let’s go,” he said, sounding annoyed. “I’ll drop you off at school. We’ll figure this out later.”
Eliza hesitated. “Can I still go to Nancy’s sleepover?”
“Yes, yes. Just get in the car,” Justin said impatiently.
“Yes!” Eliza cheered. Then she grinned. “Maybe it’s better this way. Mom was always on my case anyway.”
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“That means I can play video games!” Tom shouted, jumping up.
I felt my chest tighten. My heart ached as I watched them. They didn’t miss me; they seemed relieved. They were happy I was gone.
That evening, I watched from the camera as Justin and Tom sat on the couch, laughing and playing video games.
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A pizza box sat open on the coffee table, grease stains already soaking into the cardboard.
I noticed Tom eating a big slice loaded with cheese. My stomach tightened. He was lactose intolerant. Justin, distracted by the game, had clearly forgotten.
The next morning, my fears were confirmed. Tom was curled up on the couch, pale and groaning.
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Justin scrambled to find medicine, muttering under his breath. He ended up staying home from work, trying to comfort Tom while also cleaning up the mess.
By the third day, chaos ruled. Dishes piled up in the sink, laundry was untouched, and the kids left for school with nothing but dry cereal in their hands.
That evening, Tom sat crying on the couch, overwhelmed. Even Eliza, who usually stayed distant, looked defeated. Her hair was a mess as she clutched her empty lunchbox.
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“I miss Mom,” Tom finally said, looking up at Justin. His little face was streaked with tears, and his lip trembled.
“Me too,” Eliza added, her voice quieter than usual. She looked down at her hands. “I got my period today, and I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to call Mom so bad, but I couldn’t. It made me feel awful.”
Justin sighed, leaning back on the couch. “I think this is because of what you both said. You told her you didn’t want her to exist. Now she’s showing you what that feels like.”
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“But that’s not true!” Eliza said, her voice cracking. Tears filled her eyes. “I was just mad. I didn’t mean it. I’m so stupid for saying that.”
Tom sniffled loudly. “I want Mom to come back. I’ll clean my room every day. I won’t bite anyone ever again. I promise.”
Eliza wiped her face and nodded. “I’ll stop yelling at her. I’ll listen better. I can’t live without her. I miss her so much,” she said, sobbing.
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Hearing their words broke the last bit of resolve I had. I stepped out of the shadows, standing in the doorway. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” I said, my voice firm but full of emotion.
They turned to me in shock before running into my arms. “Mom! You’re back!” they cried, hugging me tightly.
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“Really, it’s so good to see you,” Justin said, standing and walking over. “These past few days have shown me what a monumental job you do. I’ll try to make things easier for you from now on.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice soft.
“No, thank you, for everything,” Justin replied.
“Thank you, Mom! We love you so much!” the kids said together, holding on tight.
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76-Year-Old Susan Sarandon Criticized for Her Clothing – Her Perfect Response to Haters
In a world where age often comes with societal expectations about how one should dress and present themselves, 76-year-old Susan Sarandon continues to defy these norms, sparking both admiration and criticism. Recently, the iconic actress faced backlash over her fashion choices, but her response was as empowering as it was graceful.
In a world where age often comes with societal expectations about how one should dress and present themselves, 76-year-old Susan Sarandon continues to defy these norms, sparking both admiration and criticism. Recently, the iconic actress faced backlash over her fashion choices, but her response was as empowering as it was graceful.
Susan Sarandon is no stranger to the spotlight. With a career spanning decades, she has not only captivated audiences with her performances but has also become a cultural icon known for her outspoken nature and commitment to various social causes. At 76, she remains a symbol of individuality, often opting for bold, vibrant outfits that reflect her unique style.
Recently, after appearing at a public event wearing a daring ensemble, Sarandon faced a wave of criticism on social media. Many commenters questioned her fashion choices, suggesting that her clothing was inappropriate for her age. However, instead of shying away or apologizing, Sarandon stood her ground and delivered a powerful message that resonated with many.
In response to the backlash, Sarandon took to her social media accounts to share her thoughts. With a mix of humor and assertiveness, she addressed her critics directly. “I dress for myself, not for anyone else,” she stated, emphasizing the importance of self-expression at any age. “If you don’t like it, that’s your problem, not mine.”
Her words struck a chord with fans and followers alike. Sarandon’s message was clear: personal style should not be dictated by age, and everyone has the right to express themselves freely. She highlighted the need for women, especially, to embrace their bodies and choices without fear of judgment.
Sarandon’s stance is part of a larger conversation about ageism and how society often imposes restrictive norms on older individuals, particularly women. By unapologetically showcasing her style, she challenges these outdated views and encourages others to do the same.
In an era where many women feel pressured to conform to certain standards as they age, Sarandon’s confidence serves as an inspiration. Her ability to wear what makes her feel good rather than what is deemed “appropriate” showcases a refreshing shift in attitudes towards aging and fashion.
Throughout her career, Susan Sarandon has been an advocate for women’s rights and empowerment. From her roles in films that tackle societal issues to her activism in real life, she has consistently used her platform to promote messages of strength and independence.
By addressing the criticism she received, she not only defends her choices but also uplifts countless women who might feel constrained by societal expectations. Her response encourages a broader dialogue about age, self-acceptance, and the freedom to express oneself.
Susan Sarandon’s recent experience highlights the ongoing battle against ageism in society, particularly regarding how older women are perceived and judged based on their appearance. Her perfect response to critics serves as a reminder that fashion knows no age limits and that self-expression should always take precedence over conformity.
As Sarandon continues to navigate her career and personal style with authenticity, she inspires others to embrace their individuality, regardless of what others may say. After all, true beauty lies in confidence and the ability to be unapologetically oneself.
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