My mums convinced my girlfriend is only with me for the flat.
I live with her in a spacious three-bedroom apartment right in the heart of London. The place came to us after my parents divorcemy dad walked out, leaving us everything. At first, he kept in touch, ringing now and then to check in, but over the years, the calls faded. These days, he only reaches out with cold, generic messages around the holidays.
Mum never quite managed to rebuild her love life. A few blokes came and went, but none made it past a couple of dates. Maybe she didnt really want to, or maybe she just never found someone who could replace my dad.
As for me, relationships have always been a minefield. Ive had dates, nights out, but nothing serious ever stuck. I never clung to something just to avoid being alone. If there wasnt that spark, Id say so straight awaywasting my time or someone elses never made sense to me.
Then, one day, everything turned upside down.
I met the love of my life.
The moment I locked eyes with Emily, I knew it was different. Right from the start, I felt this rare, fierce connection between us. I was lost in her, craving every spare second by her side.
Emily moved to London from a tiny village up north. Shed started uni and was fighting to carve out a new life in the city. Shes clever, ambitious, kind, and breathtakingly beautiful. We grew close fast, started dating, and for the first time, I tasted something like pure, blazing happiness.
But for my mum, that joy was like salt in an open wound.
She lashed out at my choice.
Ive always been honest with Mum. She knew about every girl Id ever seenI never hid a thing. So when I told her about Emily, I expected the usualmaybe a bit of wariness, but curiosity too.
Instead, she exploded.
She wouldnt even let me finish. The second I mentioned Emily wasnt from London, she cut me off, yelling that this girl was only after my status, my comfort, andabove allour flat.
I was stunned, rooted to the spot.
Where had that come from? How could she judge someone so harshlysomeone shed never met, never spoken to, never even heard?
Mum dug in, relentless in her hatred of our relationship. She started screaming, crying, wearing herself ragged trying to hammer it into me that I was making the worst mistake of my life. To her, Emily was just using mea ticket to the cityand shed smash my heart before tossing me aside like rubbish.
I tried to defend us, to explain that Emily had never hinted at moving in. She had her own rented place, never asked me for cash or favours. Shes independent, used to standing on her own two feet.
But Mum wouldnt budge. Unshakable as stone.
The weight of it crushed me.
At first, I brushed her off. I trusted Emilyknew she wasnt after the flat. But when you hear the same accusations day after day, doubt creeps in like poison.
I caught myself listening to Mums venom.
I started picking apart Emilys every move, hunting for hidden motives where there were none.
Why was she so sweet? Was it an act? Why buy me gifts? Was she plotting something?
I was driving myself mad.
Emily noticed, of course. Shed ask if I was alright, if something had happened. I wanted to tell her, but shame locked my throat.
How do you tell the woman you love that your own mother thinks shes a gold-digger?
Love or family?
The fight with Mum hit breaking point.
She gave me an ultimatum, sharp as a knife: break up with Emily, or forget having a normal relationship with her.
I was gutted, torn to pieces.
On one sideMum. She raised me, looked after me. I owed her, didnt I?
But on the otherdont I deserve my own happiness? Dont I get to love who my heart chooses?
Mum wouldnt listen. Her certainty was ironclad.
I knew I had to decide.
But how?
Im terrified of getting it wrong. The thought of losing Emily makes me sick, but I cant just cut ties with Mum.
What if shes just scared of being left alone? Or what if she sees something Im too blind to spot?
Im ripped between duty and love, stretched to breaking. And right now, Ive no idea how to fix it.
