It terrified me. I didn't want to call my parents, but I knew I had to. I needed to free myself from the guilt I'd held onto for more than a decade.
I'd been a jerk to the two people who loved me the most in this world, and there was nothing I felt more guilty about.
I wanted to rebuild our relationship, so I could love my Mom and Dad freely and get to know them before it was too late.
My biggest regret would be knowingly not stepping in. It was time.
I called them standing on the corner of a street, reading this letter I had written to them, sobbing with every word:
- I love you both so much, and I never thanked you for raising me.
- I've been so selfish and haven't found a good way to express my love for both of you, and I want to start doing that.
- Let's talk more—I want to hear both of your stories, what it was like raising me, what it was like growing up.
For most of the call, my parents tried to reassure me, sharing how much they enjoyed raising me, having me by their side, and how they always knew about my intentions even if I didn't show them.
I responded by saying, "I haven't been doing a good job, and I am going to change."
They said, "We'll change alongside you. However you want to change, we'll change too. We will always love you."