The grandkids don’t even invite me over anymore—they’ve quietly hired a nanny just to avoid me.
My own daughter won’t speak to me. She won’t even pick up the phone. She thinks I caused her divorce, even though it’s not my fault. She’s the one who begged for help in the first place.
Emily got married at 18. She met Daniel right after he came back from his military service. That’s when all the lovey-dovey nonsense started. She dropped out of uni straight away and went off the rails—wouldn’t even listen to my advice. I had to take Daniel in just so they wouldn’t end up in some rented flat. At first, things were fine, and we got along even after the wedding. Then Emily got pregnant and started picking fights—complaining I cooked things that made her sick. I insisted they move out.
Me and her in-laws agreed to chip in for a place for them—we knew they couldn’t afford it alone. I tried ringing her dad, thinking he might help sort the housing situation, but he just said he’d paid his child support and owed us nothing.
When Emily had the baby, I helped loads. Spent all my free time with little Sophie so the new mum could rest. Soon, Emily started faking illnesses, making up aches just to dump parenting on me.
I’d often babysit so they could go on dates—cinema, dinners, even a ten-day holiday alone. Didn’t mind—I loved looking after Sophie. Sure, I was knackered, but what wouldn’t you do for your kid’s happiness?
When they got back, I suggested Daniel do up the house. He was just lounging about after work, even though his shifts were light. I brought over building supplies and took Sophie for two weeks—even sent round a handy-man so Daniel wouldn’t stress. Next thing I know, they’re blaming *me*. Apparently, Daniel didn’t like me “bossing him about.” Well, what was I supposed to do? He never lifted a finger unless told.
After the renovations, they cut me off completely. Stopped inviting me over, secretly hired a nanny—all to avoid me. I was gutted, but I still invited everyone to my birthday bash. Only Emily and Sophie showed. Daniel didn’t even ring. Hurt like hell—after all I did, paying for the reno and everything. Did I really deserve that?
Daniel lost it at me, shouting that I was always ordering him around. Said *he* was master of his house and didn’t want me there.
Maybe I *did* overstep, but I only wanted the best. Now Emily’s always rowing with him—says it’s my fault. She rings me crying, throwing accusations. Turns out Daniel’s talking divorce. I never get to see Sophie—can’t even hear her voice on the phone.
They were my whole life. What do I do now? Why do they hate me so much?
