Everyones invited to Mums birthday, except you, announced my sister in the family group chat.
Enough, Mum! I cant be driving up to you every week! I have a life of my own!
Poppy clutched her phone, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. Mum had called for the third time that day, the same complaints over and over.
Poppy, love, how could you? Lydia stopped by yesterday with a tin of scones. And you havent called all week!
Mum, I called the day before yesterday! I bring the scones too, just not every day!
Thats the point, not every day. Lydia does it weekly. Thats what a daughter should be.
Poppy closed her eyes, counted to ten. The conversation was a loop. Lydia, the older sister, had always been Mums favourite, from the moment they could crawl.
Mum, Ive got an early shift tomorrow. Can we talk later?
Of course, darling, youre always too busy. Lydia also works, but she finds the time.
She hung up without a goodbye, exhausted by the endless comparisons.
Her phone buzzed again a message in the family chat. Poppy opened it to find a long announcement from Lydia.
Hi all! As you know, Mums 60th birthday is coming up. Im organising a party at The Ivy. All relatives are invited. Ive booked a table for twenty. Please RSVP by Friday.
The list followed aunts, uncles, cousins, even a distant niece from York who theyd met once.
Poppy scrolled to the bottom. Her name was missing.
She read the message again. Mistake? No. She wasnt on the list.
Lydia, am I invited? she typed.
The reply came instantly: Everyones invited, except you. Mum decided that.
Poppy stared at the screen, the words blurring. She reread it a second, a third time. A joke? Had Lydia just been cruel?
No one else questioned the omission. Aunt Joan confirmed her attendance. Cousin Sergei said hed come with his wife. No one asked why Poppy was left out.
She dialled Mum. One ring, two, three no answer.
She called Lydia.
Hello? Lydias voice was calm, almost indifferent.
Lydia, whats this about? Why am I not on the guest list?
I told you, Mum doesnt want you at her party.
Why?
Lydia paused.
She thinks youre a bad daughter, that you dont care about her.
Thats not true! I call, I visit, I help!
Apparently not enough, Lydia said, a hint of satisfaction slipping through. Mum said she doesnt want you there, and Im supporting her.
You support her? Lydia, Im your sister!
And thats why I know the real you selfish, only thinking of yourself.
What are you on about?
You left town when Mum needed you. Married Victor, even though Mum objected. You had only one child, whereas Mum wanted grandchildren.
Poppy listened, stunned.
Yes, I studied! I got into university! Thats a crime?
You could have studied here. We have universities too.
My course was there! Victors a good man, Mum just cant see that!
Its always not right with you. You never listened, always did the opposite.
My life!
Mums life too. If she doesnt want you at her birthday, then thats that.
Lydia hung up. Poppy stood in her tiny flat, unable to believe what had just happened. She wasnt invited to her own mothers birthday because she was a bad daughter.
She sank onto the sofa, covering her face. Tears threatened, but she held them back. There was no time to sob; she needed to understand what was happening.
She dialled Mum again. This time Mum answered.
Love, why are you calling? Lydias sorting everything, dont worry.
Mum, why didnt you invite me?
Mum sighed heavily.
Sweetheart, you know why. You barely call, you hardly visit. It hurts me.
I live three hundred miles away! I cant be there every week!
Lydia is right there, a halfhours drive.
So youre close, Im far. You chose to leave.
I didnt choose! Work, my family are here!
Exactly, your family, not mine.
Poppy felt helpless wash over her.
This is your birthday, Mum. How can I not be there?
You should have been a better daughter long ago.
I try!
Its never enough. Lydia tries, and I want to spend my day with those who love and value me.
I love you!
Show it, not just in words.
Mum hung up. Poppy sat, phone still in hand, bewildered.
Victor returned home an hour later, saw the redeyed Poppy and immediately grew concerned.
Poppy, whats wrong?
She explained. Victor frowned, shook his head.
Thats absurd! How can you not be invited to your own mothers party?
It seems you can.
What about Lydia? How could she let this happen?
Lydias always been Mums sidekick. Ive felt like the odd one out.
Victor sat beside her.
Maybe its a misunderstanding?
No, its years of builtup resentment.
Poppy paced.
Ive always felt guilty leaving, marrying you against Mums wishes, having only Leo instead of three kids.
Poppy, you had the right to choose.
You did, but every choice seems to cost something.
Victor hugged her.
Maybe its for the best? Skip the party, save your nerves. Theyll gossip behind your back anyway.
She considered it. But it was her mother, her family she couldnt simply walk away.
The next day she called Aunt Joan, who had always been kind to Poppy.
Aunt Joan, hi, its Poppy.
Darling! How are you?
Did you see the chat about Mums birthday?
Of course, Im getting a gift.
Did you notice Im not on the list?
Joan paused.
Yes, I was surprised.
And you said nothing?
I told you, its Mums decision. Lydia explained.
What did she say?
That you rarely visit, you dont give Mum enough attention. That shes hurt.
Poppy clenched the phone.
I live far away! I cant be there every week!
I get it, love. But Lydia is nearby, she does a lot for Mum drives her to doctors, brings groceries, helps at home.
So Im a bad daughter because I live elsewhere?
No one called you bad, just that Mum wants company.
Shes alone, its hard for her.
I call, I visit when I can, I send money!
Money isnt the same as presence.
But I cant just move back!
Joan sighed.
No one expects that. Just try to understand Mum. Shes sixty, getting older, scared.
Isnt it unfair?
It hurts, yes. Try talking calmly, maybe itll sort itself.
Poppy hung up, trying to stay calm. She tried, but Mum wouldnt listen.
Later that evening a cousin, Olivia, messaged:
Poppy, I saw I wasnt on the guest list. True?
True. Mum doesnt want me.
Insane! Youre her daughter!
A bad daughter, in her eyes.
Should I speak to Aunt Dorothy? Maybe shell change Mums mind?
Give it a try if you want.
Olivia promised to ask. Poppy didnt hold much hope, but at least something.
The next day Olivia called.
I spoke to your mum.
And?
Shes firm. Shes tired of your indifference, says you abandoned her.
I didnt abandon anyone!
I told her, but shes convinced. Lydia backs her up. Theyre both set.
Got it.
Maybe you should call more often? Come over?
Poppys anger flared.
I call three times a week, I visit once a monthandahalf. Thats the max I can manage.
Is that not enough?
How much more? Daily? Move in?
I dont know. She feels deserted.
It feels like Im blamed for nothing, and Im fed up.
Her son, Leo, entered the room, sixteen, lanky, looking like his dad.
Mum, why are you so sad?
Just stuff.
What kind of stuff?
Poppy tried not to involve Leo, but he looked at her with concern.
Mum didnt invite me to her birthday.
Leos eyes widened.
How could she not?
Im a bad daughter.
Thats nonsense! You call, you visit, you send money!
Its still not enough.
Leo sat beside her.
Maybe just skip it? If everyones like that, why go?
Its my mum, Leo.
So if she doesnt respect me, does it matter?
Poppy looked at her son; his simple logic hit hard. She loved her family, even if it was messy.
A week passed, the birthday loomed. Poppy thought about it constantly. Victor tried to distract her, but the ache stayed.
Lydia posted another reminder in the chat:
Reminder: the birthday is next week. Those who havent RSVPd, please do so. Need a final headcount.
Poppys name was still absent, as if she never existed.
She decided on a lastditch effort and drove to her hometown unannounced.
Mum opened the door, surprised.
Poppy? What are you doing here?
Can I come in?
Mum reluctantly let her in. The flat looked the same old sofa, faded carpet, family photos. A large picture of Lydia with her children now dominated the wall.
Sit down, Mum gestured to the sofa. Tea?
Yes, please.
They sat in the kitchen, sipping.
Mum, Im here to talk about the birthday.
Mum set her cup down.
No need, Ive decided.
Thats unfair! Im your daughter!
Youre the daughter who left me.
I didnt leave! I went to study, work, live my life!
Exactly, your life, not mine.
Poppy felt the heat rise again.
Mum, I was twenty when I moved away. I had a right to build my own life!
You had a choice, you could have stayed, married someone local, had more kids, been near.
Victor is a good man!
He took you away from me.
He didnt take me, we chose to live where his job was!
Mum waved her hand.
It all ends the same. Youre far, its hard for me.
And Lydia is close because shes a good daughter. She cares for me.
I care too, in my own way!
Your care isnt enough.
Poppy stood, frustration spilling over.
You know what? No matter what I do, itll never be enough because Im not Lydia. I chose a different path, and you hate that.
Wrong path.
My path! I had the right to it!
Mum also stood.
You had the right. Live your life. Ill have my birthday with those who value me.
Fine, Poppy said, grabbing her bag. Then I wont impose any more. Live as you wish.
She left without looking back, tears streaming, but she didnt wipe them. In the car she sat in silence; the engine stayed off, the emptiness loud. She had tried, Mum hadnt heard. Perhaps it was time to let go.
Victor met her at the door, worry in his eyes.
How did it go?
Nothing. Shes unbending.
Maybe its for the best. Youll be free of that guilt.
Maybe.
Poppy collapsed on the sofa, closing her eyes. The guilt that had gnawed at her for years finally loosened.
The birthday arrived. Relatives gathered in York, setting tables, opening presents, laughing with Mum. Poppy stayed home, the uninvited one.
Victor suggested a night out, but she just wanted to lie down.
That evening the family chat filled with photos: Mum smiling at the table, Lydia hugging her, relatives cheering with glasses.
Poppy scrolled, feeling something rip inside. Everyone was there except her. She turned the phone off and lay down.
The next morning Aunt Joan called.
Poppy, love, how are you?
Fine, Aunt Joan.
I was at the party yesterday. Mum was a bit sad, smiling through it all. When everyone left, she broke down.
Poppy sat up.
She cried because you werent there?
Yes. She said she missed her favorite daughter.
Favourite? She didnt invite me!
I told her you werent invited on purpose, hoping youd push through.
So it was a test?
Seems like it. Lydia said it was nonsense, that if you werent invited you shouldnt show up. They even argued about it.
And?
Mum admitted shed messed up. She wishes shed done it differently, that she regrets.
Poppys heart ached.
Im tired of these games, these manipulations.
I get it, dear. But Mum does miss you.
Maybe shell learn.
Maybe.
A week later Mum phoned.
Poppy, can I come stay with you?
Poppy blinked.
At our house? I havent seen you, Leos missed you.
Im not sure. How will Lydia take it?
I didnt ask permission. Im an adult, I decide.
Poppy smiled, the first genuine smile in months.
Come then, well be glad.
When Mum arrived at the station, they hugged awkwardly, the kind of hug only siblings manage.
At home Mum admired the tidy flat, chatted with Victor and Leo, talked about the weather. Later, after the men left, Mum and Poppy lingered in the kitchen.
Mum, I wanted to apologise for the birthday, she began.
Sorry? Mum said, eyes softening. For not inviting you.
Its I understand now. You tried to test me, to see if Id come anyway.
Yes, I thought youd prove your love.
But I didnt. I couldnt.
I realise I was wrong. I cant force you to live my way.
Thanks for understanding.
Mum sighed. Its hard, I want you near.
Youre near enough. Ill call, Ill visit when I can. Not every day, not on a whim.
Mum nodded. Ill try to accept that.
What about Lydia? Poppy asked.
Shes hurt. I told her I was coming to see you, and she made a scene, saying Id betrayed her.
And you?
I told her I love you both, just differently.
Poppy laughed. Thats true. Lydia can be here every day, I cant. It doesnt make me love you less.
Mum took Poppys hand. I know now. Youre my daughter, not a project.
They sat handinhand, the tension easing.
Mum stayed three days, helped with chores, played with Leo, chatted with Victor. When she left, she gave Poppy a tight hug.
Thank you for not turning away.
How could I? Poppy replied. Youre my mum.
Mum smiled. And I wont force you again.
On the platform, as the train pulled away, Poppy felt something end and something new begin.
Back home Victor asked, How was the visit?
Good. We talked, really.
Whats the plan now?
Were building a new relationship, honest, without games.
Will it work?
Well see, but well try.
Poppy settled on the sofa with a book, life moving on with its joys and challenges, family close yet distant, and a mother learning to love her daughters choices.
Lydia never replied again, but Poppy no longer feared the silence. She had work she loved, a supportive husband, a son who made her laugh, and a mum who, though far, now respected her boundaries.
That was enough imperfect, messy, but genuinely hers.
