A few weeks ago, I wrote an article about my mother. It wasn’t a particularly happy article because there aren’t many memories that link my happiness and my mother together.

But she’s leaving—not in a she’ll-be-back-in-a-few type of leaving, or a she’s-just-gone-for-work type of leaving, but in a she’s-moving-to-the-other-side-of-the-country type of leaving.

And it’s okay. She’ll be happy away from the constant reminder of her failed marriage, and she won’t have to see all the destruction and bridges she has burned when she leaves.

She’ll be happy not having to see us everyday, and we will be happy because she’s no longer making our lives miserable because of her choices.

I think we always knew it would end up here—with her leaving.

I won’t come home to see her. I won’t be able to ask her how my brother is doing because she will no longer know.

But it’s better this way. Being apart isn’t always a curse.

Despite al her faults and all the memories I have linked with her in a bad way, I am going to miss her. She is still my mother. She gave me life. She had a big impact on who I am today even if it wasn’t in a way a mother should impact her daughter’s life. She gave me one thing no one else has ever given me—she made me believe in myself. I don’t doubt my independence, or my ability to survive because I have.She taught me a hard lesson in life that’s made me who I am, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything better because I like who I am. I might not like how I got to be who I am, but I like the outcome anyways, but that life lesson is ending. It took nineteen years, but we are finally going to have a healthy relationship because of the distance between us. The tough part of my life is finally over.

She’s taught me as much as she can, and now it’s time to say goodbye. I’ll miss her in my own way, and she will miss me in hers. It won’t be a constant nagging feeling that I’m away from her. I won’t even think about it every day. I won’t feel empty because she is gone, but I will feel guilty that this is how it has to end—with us happier apart.

Now I am going to take this time to thank her for leaving. She made the grown-up decision to choose her happiness away than her depression here, and it will help everyone around her. I thank her for always showing up for me, even if she was drunk or depressed. She still showed up even if I didn’t want her to. So thank you mom—not for being perfect—for being there.

And now I thank you for being somewhere else. So you can get better. So I can live my own life away from my childhood. So I can heal as much as you.

Thank you for making the decision to let go. Thank you for finally being selfless.