Real-Life Story: “I Helped My Son Buy an Apartment”: Now I'm Afraid He'll Throw Me Out

At first, everything was going well.

This apartment was supposed to be a new beginning. For me, for my son Kamil, for both of us. I put all my savings into it, sold the plot of land my parents owned, gave up on my dreams of a peaceful retirement. All so that Kamil could have his own place, something I never got from life.

Initially, everything was going well. Kamil said that this was also his home, that I would always be welcome. I helped him decorate the interior, cooked dinners for us, made sure he lacked nothing. We were a family, just like before. But then Martyna appeared in his life.

I didn't mind. I was even happy that he had found someone who loved him. However, I quickly noticed that Martyna treated me like an intruder. There was something in her gaze that made me feel out of place in the apartment I helped buy.

– Kamil, your mom should think about her space,– she once threw out during dinner, as if it were obvious. – We need space for ourselves, too.

These words were like a blow to the heart. I thought Kamil would come to my defense, remind her that this apartment exists thanks to my help. But he just shrugged and said:

– Mom, Martyna is right to some extent. Maybe it's worth thinking about something of your own?

I sat in silence, trying to understand what had just happened. Was it really true that after years of sacrifice, after I gave everything so that Kamil could have this house, I had become a burden to him?

From then on, the atmosphere in the house changed to cold and tense. Martyna moved in permanently, and with each passing day I felt more and more useless.

I could hear their whispers, conversations about how they needed more space, that I was „old” and I should think of myself. But what does that mean? Or that I should just leave?

Today Kamil came back from work late. He was tired, and I, despite everything, put a warm meal in front of him. He looked at me with a strange expression on his face.

– Mom, can we talk? – he began, and I already knew what he wanted to say.

– You don't have to. I know Martyna wants me to leave– I replied, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. – But tell me, Kamil… do you want this too??

He was silent for a moment, avoiding my gaze. Finally he replied quietly:

– It's not like that, Mom. It's just… We want to start our lives. And you deserve peace.

I deserve peace? Is that what they call throwing your own mother out of the house now? I looked at him, my son, whom I raised, for whom I devoted my entire life. And I felt something inside me break.

I don't know what I'll do. I have nowhere to go, no money for a new apartment. Only one thought is rattling in my head: does my life really come down to me now being redundant? Everything I've built, everything I've given… doesn't matter anymore.

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