I cried. I begged. I was only 17, barely out of childhood. I couldn’t understand how my own mother—who had protected me all my life—could agree to something like this.
Ezoic
But when I looked into her eyes, I saw not coldness, but despair. Her hands trembled. She tried to hide her tears, but I saw them anyway. She was doing what she thought would save us.
So, with my heart broken and my spirit quieted, I nodded. Not in agreement, but in surrender.
Ezoic
A Wedding Without Joy
The
