How Did You Make Your Mother Realize She Chose The Wrong Daughter?

The Confrontation and the Payment Agreement

Mom’s landlord called me two weeks after Haley left. The voice on the phone was professional but annoyed.

“Your mother listed you as her emergency contact and her rent is 30 days overdue.”

I felt my face get hot.

“How much does she owe?”

“1,800 for this month plus late fees.”

I told the landlord I’d call him back, and then I called Mom. She answered on the first ring.

Before I could say anything about the rent, she started crying about how Haley took her jewelry box and some cash she’d been saving. I interrupted her.

“Your landlord just called me. You’re a month behind on rent.”

There was silence on the other end.

“Mom?”

There was more silence. Then she started talking fast about how the money from the family had been going to Haley’s expenses and now she didn’t have enough to cover everything.

“What expenses, Mom? Haley’s gone.”

“Well, I bought a new couch last month because the old one was falling apart and I leased a newer car because mine kept breaking down.”

The words came out before I could stop them.

“You spent our money on furniture and a car?”

She got defensive.

“I needed those things and Haley needed a nice home.”

I asked her directly how much debt she had. She admitted to 17,000 on credit cards.

Her pension barely covered utilities and the car lease and insurance. Everything else had been coming from family.

Rachel told me to check my credit report after I called her about Mom’s debt. I logged into the credit monitoring site I’d been ignoring for months and watched the page load.

Two credit cards I didn’t recognize showed up under my accounts. Card one was opened eight months ago with a balance of $7,400, and Card two was opened seven months ago with a balance of $4,600.

My hands started shaking. I clicked through the transaction history to find cash advances, online shopping sites, and restaurants in Mom’s neighborhood that I’d never been to.

The cards were opened before Haley even arrived. I called Rachel back, and my voice sounded weird and high.

“Mom opened credit cards in my name eight months ago.”

Rachel swore, which I’d never heard her do before.

“That’s identity theft. You need to report this.”

“But she’s my mother.”

Rachel’s voice got hard.

“She’s also a thief.”

I hung up and stared at my laptop screen until the numbers stopped making sense. The Haley situation had been bad enough, but at least I’d chosen to give that money.

This was different; this was Mom stealing from me before Haley was even part of the picture. The attorney’s office was in a bland building downtown with beige carpet and fluorescent lights.

Holden Wu looked younger than I expected, maybe 35, with glasses and a tired expression. He listened while I explained about the credit cards and showed him the statements I’d printed out.

When I finished talking, he leaned back in his chair.

“This is textbook identity theft and financial abuse. You can file a police report and dispute the charges with the credit card companies. They’ll investigate and you won’t be responsible for the fraudulent debt.”

I felt relieved for about three seconds until he kept talking.

“However, filing the report means the police will investigate your mother. If they find evidence she opened the accounts, which they will based on what you’ve shown me, she could face criminal charges. Identity theft is a felony.”

I sat there feeling my stomach drop.

“So I have to choose between my financial future and potentially sending my mother to jail?”

Holden nodded slowly.

“Unfortunately, yes, those are your options.”

He gave me paperwork to take home and review, and I left his office feeling sick. I drove to Mom’s house with the credit card statements in a folder on my passenger seat.

She answered the door looking smaller than usual, wearing an old robe even though it was 2:00 in the afternoon. I walked past her into the living room and saw the new couch she’d mentioned, a gray sectional that probably cost $2,000.

I put the folder on her coffee table and opened it. Mom looked at the papers and her face went white.

“Where did you get these?”

“I pulled my credit report. You opened two cards in my name 8 months ago.”

She tried to speak, but nothing came out at first. Then she started with excuses.

“I was desperate. The pension wasn’t enough. You have so much money.”

I interrupted her.

“I’m drowning in debt because of you and Haley. $42,000 on my actual cards plus 12,000 on these fraudulent ones.”

She got angry then.

“You should have budgeted better.”

I felt something snap inside me.

“I’m filing a police report if you don’t sign a payment agreement right now.”

Her face went through shock, then more anger, then she started crying.

“You’d really do that to your own mother?”

I pulled out the agreement Holden had helped me draft: $50 monthly until the 12,000 is paid back, which would take 240 months or 20 years. She grabbed the paper with shaking hands and read it.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Sign it or I go to the police today.”

She signed.