I’m Dylan, and my life changed the day my estranged mother, Jessica, reappeared after twenty years. She’d left the hospital the day I was born, leaving my dad, Greg, to raise me alone. There were no calls, no letters—just silence.
My dad never complained. Double shifts, late-night grocery runs, and endless patience became our rhythm. He made sure I never felt abandoned.
When I was seven, I asked about my mother. Dad handed me a worn photo.
“She’s your mom, Dyl. You should know what she looks like,” he said.
I asked if he hated her.
“No. I just love you more than I hate what she did.”
Building a Life Without Her
Life was simple, but full. I learned to cook, do laundry, and make coffee early on. By 21, I had launched LaunchPad, a startup connecting young creatives with mentors and micro-investors. The company gained traction—TV spots, podcasts, panels—and for the first time, I wondered if my mother would see what I had become.