My son struck me last night, and I said nothing. In that silence, I understood one thing: if he is no longer a son but a monster, then I will no longer be a mother.

Last night, my son struck me.

I didn’t scream. I didn’t fight back.
Because in that moment, something inside me broke cleanly in two:
the instant I realized I was no longer facing a child I had raised with love, but a creature I no longer recognized—
I stopped being his mother.

I used to believe my home could protect …