<p>"He Called Me Mummy... But I Found Forever in Him"</p><p><br></p><p>I remember the day so clearly — not because it was special, but because it wasn’t. It was just another regular afternoon, one of those days where everything felt like a blur. I was tired, overwhelmed, running behind schedule on assignments, and in the middle of managing a writing link I needed people to engage with. I was barely holding it all together.</p><p><br></p><p>So I did what anyone in my shoes would do — I reached out to a course rep of another department. Just a simple message: “Please help me post this link on your class group.” It wasn’t the first time I had asked someone to help, and I didn’t think much of it.</p><p><br></p><p>His reply came almost instantly: polite, straightforward, and helpful. He didn’t hesitate. He posted it.</p><p><br></p><p>He also messaged again.</p><p><br></p><p>At first, it was subtle — a greeting, a check-in. But I wasn’t giving energy. Not because I was rude or uninterested, but because my heart was tired. I was just… floating. He asked for a picture. I didn’t send it. I barely responded to most of the messages.</p><p><br></p><p>He didn’t stop.</p><p><br></p><p>Weeks passed. Months maybe. And then one day, he messaged, “I saw you today with your friend.” I blinked at the message, confused for a moment, until I remembered I had recently appeared in a department media content post.</p><p><br></p><p>That message broke something in me — in a good way. It felt... different. Personal. Like he actually saw me, not just my profile. For the first time, I replied with something more than indifference.</p><p><br></p><p>We started talking.</p><p><br></p><p>And talking turned into full-on conversations. Real, deep ones. About school, about family, about life. He was funny. Soft. Understanding. Curious about my mind, not just my face. I didn’t see it coming, but I started looking forward to our chats.</p><p><br></p><p>Then one day, he came over to my place.</p><p><br></p><p>I still remember the feel of that afternoon. The air was calm, and we sat there — just two people from different worlds — speaking for hours. The conversation flowed like water. We went from school stress to childhood memories, favorite meals, heartbreaks, dreams… even random, hilarious gist.</p><p><br></p><p>By the end of that day, we had created something. Something gentle and new. Something neither of us could name.</p><p><br></p><p>He started calling me "Mummy."</p><p><br></p><p>At first, I laughed. It was sweet. Funny. But something about it felt grounding. Like he had found a way to anchor both of us to something soft, something nurturing. And I embraced it. I became his "school mummy" — not just in words, but in spirit.</p><p><br></p><p>What surprised me the most was how much he poured into me. While I thought I was meant to be the one caring for him, he was healing parts of me I didn’t even know were broken. His presence reminded me I was not invisible. He made me feel seen, loved, protected.</p><p><br></p><p>He would call to check in, send random messages, say the right things at the right time. He became my safe space — slowly but steadily.</p><p><br></p><p>Then I found out something that made my heart skip.</p><p><br></p><p>He was two years older than me.</p><p><br></p><p>For a brief second, it confused the roles. But love doesn’t play by age rules. It plays by heartbeats, glances, and soft places in between. Our bond didn’t weaken — it grew stronger. Deeper. Realer.</p><p><br></p><p>Somewhere between the mother-and-son banter, we were falling. And not the rushed, reckless kind of falling. It was soft. Intentional. Grounded. He would make me laugh with his silly jokes, then hold deep conversations that touched my soul. He would ask if I had eaten, remind me to rest, notice my silences.</p><p><br></p><p>I began to see him — not just as my school son, but as my man.</p><p><br></p><p>And he saw me — not just as his mummy, but as the woman he wanted to hold forever.</p><p><br></p><p>Love bloomed quietly between us. And when we finally admitted what we felt, it was like breathing for the first time.</p><p><br></p><p>There was no drama. No chaos. Just two hearts choosing each other. After all the silence. After all the delays. After all the loneliness.</p><p><br></p><p>He loved me tenderly. I loved him with everything I had left. And we promised each other something most people spend a lifetime searching for: safety.</p><p><br></p><p>And then, one day, beneath a sunset sky with tears in both our eyes… we got married.</p><p><br></p><p>It still feels unreal sometimes. How something that started with a random DM over a class group link turned into forever. But that’s how God works. He hides magic in the most ordinary moments.</p><p><br></p><p>Now, I wake up beside my best friend — my peace, my home, my answered prayer in disguise. The boy who once called me "Mummy" now calls me Wife.</p><p><br></p><p>And every day, I look at him and whisper silently to myself:</p><p><br></p><p>I would choose you again… a thousand times over.</p><p><br></p><p>This is our story. True. Unexpected. Beautiful.</p><p><br></p><p>And this… is just the beginning.</p><p><br></p><p>– Bibi</p><p><br></p><p><br></p>
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