My husband Daniel has lately been acting like he’s the centre of the universe, thinking he has the right to lay down the law for me. Not just any conditions, but the kind that make my blood run cold. He told me he’d divorce me if I didn’t stop seeing my daughter Sophie from my first marriage. Seriously? She’s my child, my flesh and blood, my whole life. And he thinks he can just wipe her from my heart with his threats? I still can’t believe the man I’ve shared years with would stoop this low.
It all started a few months back. Daniel always had a strong personality, but I used to think it was a strength rather than a flaw. He’s confident, decisive, used to getting his way. When we married, I thought I’d found a reliable partner who’d stand by me and accept my family. Sophie was just five then, and she took to him straight away—calling him “Dad Danny,” clinging to him. I was overjoyed watching them bond. But over time, something shifted.
Daniel began pulling away from Sophie. Little things at first—he stopped asking about her day at school, no longer wanted to play with her like before. I chalked it up to stress—his job’s demanding, late nights were common. But then he started snapping when I mentioned her. “You give her too much attention,” he muttered at dinner once. I was stunned. She’s my daughter—how could I *not* give her time? She lives with my mum, Margaret, in the next town over. I only see her on weekends. Those visits are my lifeline, my way of still being her mum despite the distance.
Then came the ultimatums. A month ago, Daniel sat across from me at the kitchen table, arms crossed, his face like stone. “I don’t want you visiting Sophie every weekend. It’s getting in the way of *us*.” I thought I’d misheard. *What* family was it disrupting? It’s just the two of us—we’ve no kids together, and Sophie *is* my life. I tried explaining I couldn’t abandon her, that she’d already been through her parents’ split, that she *needed* me. He just waved me off. “She’s old enough to cope. If you don’t stop, I’ll file for divorce.”
I sat there, numb. *Divorce*? Because I want to be a mother to my child? It was so absurd I didn’t know how to react. In that moment, I realised the man I’d leaned on didn’t see a wife in me—just someone to obey his rules. He didn’t just want to limit my time with Sophie—he wanted to control my life.
I started piecing it together. How Daniel criticised my mum for “spoiling” Sophie. How he scowled when I bought her gifts or paid for her after-school clubs. How he once said, “The past should stay in the past,” meaning my first marriage—and my daughter. I’d brushed it off then, but now it all fit. He didn’t just dislike Sophie—he wanted her *gone* from our lives.
I don’t know what to do. Part of me wants to pack my bags and leave tonight. I can’t live with a man who makes demands like this. But another part’s terrified. Daniel and I have been together seven years. We’ve a home, plans. I’ve poured so much into us. And how would I explain to Sophie that her mum’s alone again? She already asks why Dad Danny never calls or visits. How do I tell her he wants me to *forget* her?
My mum, Margaret, says I have to stand by Sophie, even if it means losing my husband. “You’ll never forgive yourself if you choose him over her,” she told me over the phone. And she’s right. Sophie isn’t just part of my past—she’s my heart, my duty. I remember holding her as a newborn, her first smile, her first steps. I won’t betray her for a man who sees her as a problem.
But Daniel won’t back down. Just the other day, he brought it up again, harsher this time: “Choose—me or your daughter. I won’t live with a woman tethered to her past every weekend.” I stayed silent, knowing anything I said would only enrage him. But inside, my choice was made. I’ll never stop seeing Sophie. *Never*. Even if it costs me my marriage.
Now I’m figuring out my next steps. Maybe I’ll consult a solicitor, see where I’d stand in a divorce. Maybe find a better job to be financially secure. I’ve even started flat-hunting in Sophie’s town to be closer. It’s terrifying, but there’s hope in it too. I want my daughter to know her mum will always be there, no matter what.
Daniel might think his threats will break me. But he’s wrong. I won’t live by anyone else’s rules—especially not ones that force me to abandon what matters most. I choose Sophie. And if starting over’s the price, I’ll pay it. For her. For us.
