**When a Mother Becomes a Guest: Why I No Longer Open the Door to Her.**
Emma arrived in another city—this time to visit her daughter. Sophie greeted her politely, as expected, but without warmth. Lonely and estranged from her parents, Emma decided to stay a few days. That evening, over dinner, Sophie suddenly asked:
“Mum, when are you going home?”
“I was hoping to stay a couple more days,” Emma replied hesitantly.
“Honestly, I think it’s time you left,” Sophie said firmly.
“So even my own mother is a burden now,” Emma muttered bitterly.
“Mum, after everything you’ve done, I don’t want you here,” Sophie snapped unexpectedly.
“What? What have I done?” Emma froze, bewildered.
But Sophie remembered everything.
She was only seven when her parents divorced. From then on, she lived with her grandparents—they became her family. Her mother… Well, her mother chose a different life—men, lovers, new romances. Sophie grew up blaming herself for the divorce, resenting how her grandad worked into his old age and her nan spent endless hours at the stove. When things were good, Emma might call, even turn up with a cake. But the moment trouble struck, she’d lock herself away, lash out, then vanish.
There were too many men, but one—Oliver—was the last straw. Slippery, smug, unbearable. When Emma tried to move him into her parents’ home, they gave her a choice: him or family. She chose him.
“Your mother lives across town now,” Sophie’s nan told the thirteen-year-old flatly.
“What about me?”
“You stay with us. It’s alright, love. We’ll manage.”
But Sophie knew the truth—her mother had abandoned her.
At first, Emma didn’t even visit. Then she’d appear in the kitchen, take jars of preserves, and disappear again. A girl grows up needing someone to talk to—first love, first heartbreak—but her nan wouldn’t understand, and her grandad was silent. And her mother? She was too busy living her new life… until Oliver left her. She came back broken, pitiful, but instead of hugging her daughter, she wept alone in her room. Even when she found another man—Anthony—it was the same. He was dull, useless, arrogant. Moved into her parents’ home, refused to help, avoided her grandad, who was carrying the whole household alone.
Sophie drifted further away. She went to university in another city, rarely visited. Her mother cycled through men, talking of new beginnings, making plans behind her daughter’s back. Then Sophie learned her paternal grandparents had left her their flat. It was unexpected—and final. She put it in her name and moved without hesitation.
Emma found out by chance. Instantly, she declared:
“Brilliant! I’ll move in with you, help with the renovations, find a better job in the city.”
“You didn’t ask my permission,” Sophie said calmly. “I won’t live with you.”
“Ungrateful! I gave you life!” Emma snapped.
But Sophie stayed silent. She remembered being small, alone, forgotten. Her mother had left her once—she didn’t need her now.
Emma sulked but kept trying. Calls, surprise visits, “just for a day” turning into weeks. Sophie endured it—until one day, she said:
“Mum, you need to go home. I have my own life. Help Nan and Grandad.”
“Oh, so I’m in the way?” Emma sneered. “Of course. Needed when you were a child, unwanted now.”
“No, Mum. You made your choice when you left me for a man. I grew up. Thanks for teaching me to rely on no one.”
Emma left. Complained to her parents, who pitied her but understood their granddaughter. They’d been there when Sophie cried at night. Her mother? She’d drifted away on her own. Then came Michael—her newest “serious” boyfriend. Respectable, supposedly. She wanted Sophie to meet him.
“Come over,” Sophie said.
She was polite. Spoke to Michael—realised he was no different. Four months later, they split. Emma brought up moving in again. Sophie refused again.
“Don’t ask me this ever again,” she said. “There’s no room for you. Not in my flat, not in my life.”
And that was the end of it.
Sophie lives in her flat now. Renovated it with friends. Works, builds her life. No drama. No grudges. No mother.
Because not everyone who gives you life gets to stay in it.
