My name is Beth, I’m 58, and I’ve always believed I had a great relationship with my four kids, ages 23 to 31. I’ve never felt like a strict parent—I’ve always seen myself as more of a friend. After I divorced their father, I leaned on my children more, and they were always there for me. Or so I thought.
One morning, everything changed. I woke up and realized I’d been removed from the family group chat. All four of my kids had blocked me. Panicked, I drove straight to my oldest son’s house, convinced something terrible had happened.
When he opened the door, he didn’t invite me in.
“Mom,” he said, “you need to give us space. The constant messages, reminders, and calls—it’s too much.”
I was stunned. I honestly didn’t see this coming. Fighting back tears, I told him I was just trying to stay close to them. I know I message a lot, but I love my kids. When something reminds me of them, I want to share it.
He softened, but didn’t back down. “We know you love us,” he said. “But we’re adults now. We need room to breathe.”
I felt hurt and confused. Since when did growing up mean wanting less contact with your mother? Why block me instead of just saying something?
When I asked him that, he sighed.
“We have, Mom. Many times. It’s like you don’t hear us.”
And that’s when it all finally sank in.
