**Diary Entry**
I bumped into Mrs. Wilkins from next door as I walked up to Mums house. She leaned over her balcony, calling out, Oh, Emily, love! Visiting your mum, are you?
Afternoon, Mrs. Wilkins. Yes, just popping in.
You might want to have a word with her, she sighed. Shes been different since the divorce, poor thing.
My stomach tightened. What do you mean?
Well, Ive been waking up early lately, and last week, I saw her stumbling out of a cab at half-five in the morning. And she looked well, lets just say, not her usual self. The neighbours are all talking. At her age! And whyd she go and kick your dad out? Sure, he made mistakes, but who doesnt? After all those years togetherseems daft to throw it away now.
Thanks, Mrs. Wilkins, I replied, forcing a smile before hurrying inside.
Truth was, Mum had kicked Dad out six months ago after catching him cheating. Id begged her to think it overthese things happen. But she wouldnt budge. What surprised me most wasnt the divorce but how shed bounced backnew clothes, nights out with her mates, even dancing. None of it was like her.
It unsettled me. I was getting married soon, planning for kids. And here was Mum, out clubbing till dawn? What kind of gran would she be? How would I explain her to my future mother-in-law, who spent her evenings knitting, while mine was belting karaoke in some pub?
When I stepped inside, Mum greeted me with a teapot in hand, grinning. No ratty dressing gownshe wore a sleek beige trouser suit instead. Manicured nails, false lashes, a fresh pedicure. She looked alive.
So, hows Daniel? she asked, setting down the cups.
Hes fine, I said carefully. But what about you?
Brilliant! Last night, the girls and I stayed out till morning. Dancing, then karaoke. Such a laugh!
Mrs. Wilkins told me everything, I muttered. That you rolled in at five, looking well, pissed.
Mum laughed. What did you expect? Sipping tea at a pub?
I couldnt hold back. Mum, dont you think this is a bit much?
How so?
Youre not twenty anymore. Clubs? Dancing? You ought to be setting an example. Youll be a grandmother soon!
Im a woman whos finally free, she said evenly. I wont live by someone elses script.
But you spent decades with Dad! How can you just move on like this?
She paused, then replied, firm but calm, Your father betrayed me. Not a mistakea choice. And Im done being a doormat. I want to *live*, Emily. For *me*. I gave years to family. Now, Im doing what I want.
But youre nearly fifty!
So? Theres no expiry date on joy.
I winced, realising Id gone too far. Sorry, I didnt mean to upset you. I just worry.
If youre embarrassed, dont invite me to the wedding. But know thisI wont hide my grey hair under some frumpy scarf or wear shapeless frocks. Ill dance. Maybe even flirt. I feel *good*.
No, Mum, of course I want you there. Its just
Auntie Wilkins disapproves? She smirked. Well, I dont care. Im finally alive.
At home, I told Daniel everything. I dont know how to feel.
He chuckled. Your mums bloody brilliant. She chose life, not misery. No crime in that.
That weekend, I rang her. Mum, fancy a spa day, then live music at the pub?
Wont I embarrass you?
Ill tell everyone youre my older sister, I teased.
Deal. But were not leaving early.
That day changed things. For the first time, I saw the strength in her choices. Maybe I could learn from herto live not by should, but by *want*. To be unapologetically myself.
