My daughter is crushed by betrayal… She only cries and stares at the ground. I am her father.
At 73, I’ve always believed I understood life and what is right.
But my children thought differently.
I have a son and a daughter. Their mother passed away several years ago, leaving me to wait for grandchildren, to help and guide them with the wisdom I’ve gathered over the years.
I raised my children to respect traditions. In our family, marriage wasn’t just a formality. It was a commitment, a respect for your partner, and a promise that, in tough times, you wouldn’t turn your back on each other.
But they laughed at me.
“Dad, that’s old-fashioned!” my son would say.
“Nobody does that anymore,” my daughter would echo.
A wedding? A legal marriage? They saw these as outdated, “things of the past.”
“We love each other without the paperwork,” my daughter assured me. “A piece of paper won’t change anything.”
I watched them silently. Because I knew life would eventually sort everything out.
And it did.
She was tossed aside like an unwanted item.
One morning, there was a knock on my door.
I opened it…
There stood my daughter.
With a suitcase.
With a baby in a pram.
With a three-year-old girl clinging to her coat hem.
I saw her face.
Pale, gaunt, with tear-streaked eyes.
“Dad… can I stay with you for a few days?” her voice trembled. “George kicked me out. He’s found someone else…”
It took a moment for the words to sink in.
Kicked out?
Like a stray dog?
Like something unimportant?
“And the kids?!” I exclaimed.
She sobbed.
“He said he’ll pay child support as required by law. But he doesn’t want anything to do with me or them anymore…”
I clenched my fists.
How?! How can someone just write off their family, erase their children from their life?
I wanted to confront him immediately, demand answers, but instead, I just hugged my daughter and let her into the house.
We didn’t speak about it for several days.
She just sat by the window, her eyes fixed on the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks.
I looked into her face and knew she was broken.
A wife? No. A servant in a wealthy home.
She graduated from university with a teaching degree. She dreamed of working with children.
But George didn’t want that.
“We don’t need your salary,” he bragged. “Take care of the home! I earn enough; I want a wife, not an exhausted teacher!”
She stayed home, cooked meals, did laundry, cleaned, raised their children.
He came home to hot meals, a clean house, well-cared-for kids.
She never complained.
She believed he was grateful for all this.
She thought he needed her.
But it turned out he did not.
As soon as he found someone else, she became invisible to him.
“I’ve found new love,” he calmly told me when I called him. “And the kids? Well, I’ll pay child support.”
He sent her £200 a month.
A paltry sum.
Exactly what the law required.
“That should be enough,” he said when I asked him to provide more. “I’m not supporting you! That’s all in the past.”
The past.
What used to be his family.
What he discarded in an instant.
My daughter is shattered… How to move forward?
A year has passed.
Now, it’s just the three of us—my daughter, her two little girls, and me.
I’m retired, receiving a bit more than £200. She gets a meager allowance.
It’s barely enough for the children.
She doesn’t work—the youngest is not yet a year old.
But that’s not the main issue.
The main issue is that she’s just existing.
She doesn’t laugh, smile, or speak unnecessarily.
She’s like a broken doll.
Her eyes empty.
She always looks down.
And I know what she’s thinking.
That if she had listened to me then, insisted on a legal marriage, things might have been different.
He might have left, but he couldn’t have just erased her like that.
He would have had obligations.
She wouldn’t be left penniless with two children.
I’m old.
I’m not sure how long I can continue to help her.
And what then?
How will she live?
How will my granddaughters fare?
Will she ever find a man who will love her—a woman with two children?
How did I ever think I would ponder such questions?!
Ladies, don’t repeat her mistakes!
Now, I’m sure of one thing.
Free relationships aren’t freedom.
They’re a path to nowhere.
Marriage isn’t just a piece of paper.
It’s protection.
It’s responsibility.
I urge all fathers, all mothers with daughters.
Don’t let them make the same mistake my daughter did!
Guide them, explain to them, convince them.
A woman without marriage remains unprotected.
I curse the “trend” that came from the West, this false freedom, where a woman is left with nothing.
I see what’s become of my daughter.
I see how it’s destroying her.
And I don’t want this to happen to anyone else.
Protect your daughters.
Marriage isn’t a guarantee of eternal love.
But it is a guarantee of protection.
Don’t let your children make the same mistake.
