I didn't ask questions, I didn't judge her decisions.
When my daughter, Anna, told me she was divorcing her husband, I was shocked. For years, they seemed like a harmonious couple – they had a home, shared plans, and a seemingly happy life. “Mom, I can't be with him anymore,” she said with tears in her eyes. “We don't understand each other, everything is over between us.”
I didn’t ask questions, I didn’t judge her decisions. She was my daughter and I wanted to support her. “You can come home,” I said. “You’ll always find a place for yourself here.”
Anna arrived a week later, with suitcases and a sad look on her face. At first I was glad she was home again. I remembered how we used to spend evenings together, talking for hours over tea. I thought that those times would come back, that we would be able to build a new closeness that we had been missing since she got married.
But very quickly the reality turned out to be different.
The first days passed peacefully. Anna rested, watched movies, and I cooked her favorite dishes, wanting to make up for her difficult moments. But with each passing day I began to notice that her presence at home was becoming more and more overwhelming.
“Mom, could you do the laundry? I don't have the strength to do this– she said one day, throwing her things on the bathroom floor.
„I can help you, but maybe you should do it yourself?– I replied gently.
„Really?– she threw out with a vengeance. “After everything I've been through, you can't help me&c;? I thought I could count on you.”
I didn't want to offend her, so I did the laundry. But that was just the beginning. With each passing day, Anna became more and more demanding. “Mom, make me some sandwiches, I have to leave quickly.” “Mom, clean my room, I'm tired.” “Mom, why isn't there anything to eat?”
I could feel my patience being tested. I tried to talk to her, explain that I needed time for myself, but Anna always found an excuse. “Mom, I have to start all over again now. You don't understand this because your life is stable. Help me, please.”
The worst thing was that she started treating my house like a hotel. She came and went as she pleased, leaving a mess, and when I pointed it out to her, she would say: “It's only temporary. When I find an apartment, I'll disappear from your life.”
But time passed, and Anna was still with me. Her stuff took up every available space, and I felt like I was losing control of my life with each passing day.
One day, after coming home exhausted from work and finding the kitchen a complete mess, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Anna, we need to talk,” I said, trying to keep my emotions in check.
„ What happened? ?? she asked, not even looking up from her phone.
„ I can’t live like this anymore, „ I said. „ I feel like instead of supporting you, I’m letting you take advantage of me. It's not fair.”
Anna looked at me reproachfully. “Taking advantage? Seriously, mom? You're helping your daughter. Is that so much?”
“Help is one thing, but what you're doing is something completely different– I replied. “You don't respect me, you don't appreciate what I do for you. I feel like your maid.”
“If that's what you think, then maybe I really should move out” – she said sarcastically, getting up from the table.
After that conversation, Anna started to pull away. Finally, she announced that she was renting an apartment and would be moving out soon. I felt a mixture of relief and sadness – relief that I would get my home back, and sadness that our relationship had been so severely strained.
Today, when I think about those months, I wonder if I could have done anything differently. Was I too strict?? Should I have been more supportive?? But I know one thing – every relationship, even between a mother and daughter, is based on mutual respect. And without it, even the greatest love can be hurt.
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