I’m 41 years old and work as a hairdresser. I’m also a single mom, and I won’t lie — I’ve had to work twice as hard to support both myself and my daughter. Earlier this year, I helped my 19-year-old daughter get into a good college, and I saw it as an achievement for both of us.
But just a few months later, she called me with news that turned my world upside down — she was pregnant. Hearing those words made me shiver, bringing back painful memories from my own past. She told me her boyfriend, who’s 25 and also attends the same college, bailed the moment he found out.
But she didn’t seem upset — in fact, she said she was fine with it and was happy to raise the baby on her own. She even sounded cheerful. I tried to reason with her, explaining how difficult single motherhood can be, how it would derail her studies and her chance to build a career.
But she was stubborn. She told me that this was what she wanted, that she was an adult now, and I needed to respect her choices. She decided to take a break from college for obvious reasons and asked if she could move back home — she’d been living in a campus hostel.
I agreed. At first, it felt nice to have her home again. We cooked together, watched our favorite shows, and for a while, I thought maybe this would bring us closer.
But that didn’t last long. Soon, she started treating me like her maid. She’d leave dirty dishes everywhere and never clean up after herself, saying she was “too tired” because of her pregnancy.
It was as if she thought being pregnant meant she was entitled to full-time care. I understand that pregnancy is hard, but it was her choice — and I still had to work long hours. The last thing I wanted was to come home to another mess.
When I finally couldn’t take it anymore, I confronted her. She acted completely shocked and accused me of judging her, of not being understanding enough. Then she told me I should let her stay with me until the baby was at least a year old — for “stability.”
The idea terrified me.
I told her directly that she needed to start helping out around the house and that she should eventually look for another place to live. I made it clear I wasn’t her maid, and I wasn’t going to be a free nanny for her baby either. She got angry and accused me of choosing “freedom over family.” Maybe I am — but after years of raising her alone, I think I’ve earned a little peace.
I even offered to help her find a small place nearby and said I’d help with the deposit. She refused. She said she “needed her mom,” but honestly, it felt more like she needed someone to wait on her.
The argument escalated, and in a moment of frustration, I told her to move out the next day. She just smiled, said nothing, and went back into her room. The next morning, I froze.
Her room was empty. All her things were gone. I called her several times, but she didn’t answer.
Later, I received a text that said, “I won’t be a burden on you anymore. I found a place to stay. Please don’t contact me ever again.”
Now I’m completely lost.
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