My mom was a kid herself when she had me with some punk. We’ve hated each other our whole lives. She hates me for ruining her reputation, her future, her chance at marrying someone decent. I hate her for giving me a childhood with no love, no dad, and no normal family. The day I was born, she tried to smother me. When I was a month old, she left me in the desert for the coyotes. When I was five, she tried to sell me to some creeps for three grand. Luckily, my nana saved me every single time. But I wasn't some pushover. The day she took her SATs, I stood outside the school and yelled "Mom!" for everyone to hear. The day she moved into her college dorm, I made sure all her roommates knew she had a six-year-old kid. On her wedding day, she locked me in my room, so I jumped out the window and crashed the ceremony. She stared at me that day, her eyes filled with pure venom. She collapsed on the floor in her white dress and screamed, "Why do you have to destroy everything for me?" I finally made it to my 18th birthday. And true to form, she celebrated by throwing my birth certificate at my face. "Ivy," she snarled, "I don't owe you a damn thing." 1 My birthday is on Thanksgiving. While every other family was having a turkey dinner, my mother, Melanie, was stuffing my clothes into a trash bag and tossing it on the front porch. "You're 18 now. An adult. You can finally get the hell out," she said. "I have no legal obligation to you anymore. You don't need a guardian. Ivy, I never want to see your face again." There was no love in her eyes. Just hate. Pure, uncut hatred. The feeling was mutual. I’ve always known she resented me. I was the living proof of the mistake she made when she was fourteen. I was the stain on her life. But how is that my fault? She’s the one who brought me into this world. I didn’t ask to be here. Why should I have to pay for her mistake with 18 years of her rage? So, from day one, I fought back. She never let me call her "Mom" in public. So I did it every chance I got, as loud as I could. After having me, she went back to high school, telling everyone she’d been out sick for a year. So on the day of her SATs, I ran up to the entrance of the testing center and yelled: "Mom! Good luck on your SATs! I know you’ll do great! Your baby loves you!" The look of shame on her face was priceless. She looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. I was ecstatic. It was payback for trying to smother me in my crib and leaving me as coyote food. But I underestimated her. Even with everyone whispering and pointing, her focus was so intense she still aced the test and got into a good state school. Fine. The day she moved into her dorm, I tagged along with my nana and made sure to introduce myself to her new roommates. "Please don't judge my mom," I’d said, putting on my best sad-puppy face. "She just got pregnant really young. But she's super smart, and she's the best mom in the whole world. I love her so much, so please don't be mean to her!" By the end of move-in day, the whole campus knew that Melanie, the 20-year-old freshman, already had a six-year-old daughter. She was so furious she dragged me into a bathroom stall, shaking with rage. "Ivy, why won't you just disappear? Why are you so determined to ruin my life? What did I ever do to deserve this?" What did *I* do? I didn't do anything but be born. She made my life hell, so I made hers hell right back. 2 She barely came home during her four years of college. The first time she did, it was to announce she was getting married. I met the guy. He was handsome, had a good career, came from a nice family. Nana was thrilled. Melanie was even more thrilled. I was disgusted. How does someone as selfish and heartless as Melanie deserve to be happy? She couldn't even be a mother to her own kid. What right did she have to marry a good man? She knew I wasn't going to make it easy for her. On the morning of the wedding, she locked me in my bedroom. "Ivy," she warned through the door, "today is the happiest, most important day of my life. Don't you dare ruin it for me." What a joke. Why would I listen to her? I climbed out my second-story window and ran all the way to the church. Just as the groom was about to put the ring on her finger, I sprinted down the aisle, grabbed onto her leg, and started wailing. "Mommy, are you going to leave me? After you get married, are you going to have new babies and forget about me? What will I do?" I screamed, "You can't leave me! If you have other kids, I'll just die!" Her dream wedding turned into a complete disaster. The groom slapped her across the face and stormed out. She collapsed onto the floor in her white wedding dress, shrieking my name. "Ivy! I-V-Y!" She cried like a madwoman for hours. Later that day, she took scissors to her wedding dress and then to her own hair, hacking it all off. She never dated again. She hated me more than ever. And I had never been happier. She was my mother. That's all she would ever be. I didn't want any brothers or sisters to suffer the way I did. Because being her child didn't mean getting love. It only meant getting hate. Now, clutching the flimsy birth certificate, I turned and threw myself into my nana's arms, sobbing. "Nana, Mom's kicking me out! I'm only 18, I just got into college! What am I supposed to do? Does she want me to end up like her, getting knocked up by some guy before I even have a life?" *SMACK!* A sharp sting exploded across my cheek. Melanie’s face was contorted with rage, her hand raised to hit me again, but Nana grabbed her by the hair. "You hit her again, I swear to God," Nana snarled. "She's 18 years old. Don't you think she has any pride? Melanie, I have never seen a worse mother than you." Melanie glared back at her. "And I've never seen one like you, either!" Nana's face faltered for a second. She shoved Melanie aside and took my hand. "Come on, Ivy. We're going inside. This is my house, my name on the deed. Nobody has the right to kick you out." I followed Nana into the house, shooting a triumphant smirk at my mother over my shoulder. 3 It's always been like this. She hates me, but Nana loves me. Every time Melanie lost her temper with me, Nana would make her pay. The time she tried to smother me, Nana slammed her head into the toilet and held it there until she nearly drowned. The time she left me for the coyotes, Nana locked her in the shed with a stray dog for three hours. And the day she tried to sell me, Nana broke her leg. So, no. I'm not afraid of her. Whatever I do, Nana has my back. I’m just like her in that way. She was bold enough to have me at fourteen. I’m bold enough to do anything. As evening fell, I saw her alone in the kitchen, cooking. A whole Thanksgiving feast was on the table. Nana cut me a slice of pumpkin pie. "Ivy, now that you're in college, make sure you still come home to visit. If you need money, you ask your mother. It's her responsibility to support you through school." I smiled and held my hand out to Melanie. "Mom, the two thousand a month for my allowance isn't enough. All my friends get three. I need another grand." She smacked my hand away with a serving spoon. "You push your luck and see if you get a penny. When I was in college, I lived on a thousand a month, and I managed just fine." I took a bite of pie. "Yeah, but you were different, Mom. You had guys paying for your stuff. I don't." Her face darkened. "That's a lie. I worked part-time and I was frugal. I never took money from a man." Oh, please. I went right for the kill. "You had me when you were fourteen. Don't you dare say you didn't rely on a guy. You were smarter than me. You knew how to take shortcuts from the very beginning." She looked like she was about to flip the table. I could see her chest heaving with rage. Mad? Good. She deserved it. She’s the one who had me so young. She’s the reason I got pointed at and whispered about my whole life, the reason kids bullied me at school. This was all on her. Seeing her angry was better than winning the lottery. I was so wound up I couldn't sleep that night. I got up for a glass of water and heard arguing from her room. It was Nana, yelling at her. "It's been 18 years, Melanie. Why can't you let it go? What good does it do you to hurt Ivy like this? She will always be your daughter. You can't change that. You need to try to be a good mother." I peeked through the crack in the door and saw tears streaming down Melanie's face. She slowly looked up at Nana. "And you? Were you a good mother?" she asked, her voice dripping with acid. "Were you? Mom, what I've done to her is nothing, *nothing* compared to what you did to me. How dare you lecture me?" She stared Nana straight in the eye. "You know, I could go tell Ivy the truth right now. I wonder if she'll hate you as much as she hates me." "Don't you dare!" Nana shrieked, grabbing Melanie's shoulders. "You will not tell her! Not ever! If you say one word, I will kill myself right here in front of you!" 4 In the end, Melanie didn't tell me anything. She even did something she'd never done before: she drove me to my college dorm. I cheerfully introduced her to my new roommates. "This is my mom! She looks young, right? Hahaha, she's only thirty-two!" "Whoa," one of them said, their jaw dropping. "So, like… ma'am, you had her when you were fourteen?" "Damn, that's wild," said another. "I barely had my period at fourteen." Then they turned to me. "Ivy, what about your dad? How old was he? Was he a teenager, too?" I shrugged. "No idea. Never met him. Could be some punk with a bad dye job, could be some old married guy." With every word I said, Melanie's face got paler. Finally, she snapped and slapped me. I clutched my cheek and collapsed onto the floor, wailing. "She hit me! Everyone, come see! My own mother is abusing me!" After that scene, Melanie became infamous on my campus. She never had the nerve to show her face there again. Which was her whole plan, anyway. She wasn't visiting me; Nana was sending her to supervise me. She was convinced I'd end up just like her, getting into trouble with boys at a young age. "Keep your eyes open, Ivy," she'd say over and over. "Don't be fooled by a handsome face. You need to find someone who is your equal, or you will regret it for the rest of your life." Hilarious. "No thanks," I'd shot back. "I think I'll go hook up with some burnout tomorrow. Make you a grandma at thirty-three." She stormed out, throwing one last threat over her shoulder. "I'm done with you! I am never helping you again! Go to your precious nana for everything! Don't you ever call me again!" And she didn't. She never called, never visited. The only proof she still existed was the $2,500 that appeared in my bank account on the first of every month. Life without fighting her was boring. So I got a boyfriend. Actually, he pursued me. He said he saw me on the first day of school and felt an instant connection. He even said we looked like we were made for each other. He was just like the man Melanie was supposed to marry: handsome, athletic, from a wealthy family. He checked every box. I was so excited to bring him home. Unfortunately, Melanie was ready for another fight. 5 She stood in the doorway, blocking my boyfriend, Leo, from coming in. "Get out," she said, hands on her hips. "You are not welcome in this house." She was unbelievable. I pushed past her. "This is Nana's house. Her name is on the deed, and she's leaving it to me when she's gone. What right do you have to tell my boyfriend he can't come in?" She gritted her teeth. "I have every right. Because I'm your mother. You love telling everyone that, don't you, Ivy? Well, today I'm using my authority as your mother to tell you: I do not approve of this man." That was it. I snapped. "What right do you have to not approve? You're just jealous that I found a great guy. You're the one who got knocked up by some deadbeat because you were reckless. I'm 20 years old. You don't control me!" I’d hit a nerve. She raised her hand to slap me again. But before her hand could connect, another hand shot out and slapped her first. It was Nana. "You worthless thing," Nana hissed. "How many times have I told you? Don't you ever hit her! Do you understand me? You do it again and you can get out of my house. You hear me?" My hero had arrived. I ran to Nana and buried my face in her shoulder. "Nana, she doesn't have a man, so she's trying to stop me from having a boyfriend! It's not fair!" Nana stroked my back soothingly. "It's okay, sweetie. Nana will handle it. Our Ivy is all grown up. It's time she had a nice boyfriend." A grin spread across my face. I shot a look at Melanie, who was standing there, fuming. But then, she did something strange. She started to laugh. She was sick. Who laughs after getting slapped? Nana glared at her. "What are you laughing at? You've lost your mind." Melanie pointed at Leo, then looked at Nana. "I'm laughing," she said, her voice chillingly calm, "because your karma has finally arrived." "Mom. Take a good, long look at him. And then tell me if you still approve of them being together. Open your eyes and look. *Really* look." Nana followed her finger and stared at Leo. In an instant, her pupils shrank. I saw her lips tremble, her face drain of all color. "What," she whispered, her voice shaking, "are you doing here?"
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