Real Talk: Diary of a Seriously Fcked Off Parent

48. When the Nest Empties, but the Heart Stays Full of Questions

Today marked a strange milestone. My youngest daughter officially moved all her things out of home. For many parents, this might be a moment of celebration a sign that their child is stepping into adulthood, building independence, spreading their wings. And while part of me recognizes that, the truth is… I’m not quite sure how I feel.

Maybe some context will help.

The day she left ,really left, was one of the hardest days I’ve faced as a parent. It wasn’t a gentle parting, or even a tense goodbye. It was violent, emotionally chaotic, heartbreaking, and deeply painful. She had a massive meltdown, the kind that spirals into self-destruction, and by the end of it, it became clear that she couldn’t stay. That moment wasn’t just the end of her living under our roof; it felt like the end of a chapter I wasn’t ready to close.

Since then, I’ve been quietly walking through the stages of grief, denial, anger, sadness, acceptance, sometimes all in a single day. Parenting doesn’t come with a rulebook for what to do when your child leaves not in peace, but in pain. And when someone you love walks away after so much conflict, you don’t just miss them, you mourn what could have been.

Today, when she came to collect her remaining things, things I had neatly put out for her, something unexpected happened. There was no tension. No drama. No resentment hanging in the air. Just… lightness. Calm. Even a bit of warmth. It was strange. Not in a bad way, in a beautiful, bewildering way.

It left me wondering: why couldn’t we have had this when she lived here?

Why does peace sometimes only find us after distance does?

Now that she’s gone, not just physically but symbolically, I feel like I’m suspended between emotions. Should I feel proud? I kind of do. She has a plan. She’s not floundering. She’s building something for herself. And I do hope, with everything I have, that she makes it work. That she finds peace, growth, and happiness.

But I also feel sadness, confusion, maybe even a bit of regret. Not for who she is or who she’s becoming, but for how we got here. For the bridge that broke in the process.

There are glimmers of hope. A sense that maybe, slowly, we’ll rebuild that bridge. That maybe time and maturity will help us reconnect in a healthier, more peaceful way. I truly want that.

But for now, I sit in this moment, not with anger or tears, just a strange kind of stillness. I don’t know how I’m “meant” to feel. And maybe that’s okay. Maybe this is just part of the process of letting go, not of love, but of the idea that everything was supposed to go a certain way.

So if you’ve been here, in this confusing, bittersweet place, you’re not alone. It’s not all celebration. Sometimes, it’s quiet grief, cautious hope, and the slow work of making peace with what is.

2. Welcome to the Secret Diary of a ParentThis isn’t your ty…

Welcome to the Secret Diary of a Parent. This isn’t your typical parenting blog. Here, I share the real stuff, messy mornings, bedtime battles, surprise hugs, and everything in between. If you’ve ever hidden in the bathroom for a minute of peace or laughed through the chaos, you’re in the right place.

Honest stories. Real moments. A little humor. A lot of heart.Dive in and let’s navigate parenthood together.

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6. Tired of the Rejection: A Cry from the Heart

I’m overwhelmed with anger and sadness that my daughter has chosen to leave her home, our home, to go live with her father. A man who has consistently shown that he doesn’t truly care for her. A man who always puts himself first. A man who stood by while his wife verbally abused me over the phone in front of our daughter, simply because he lacks the courage to stand up for what’s right.

I keep asking myself: is my daughter staying with him because she genuinely wants to? Or does she feel like she has no other choice? I can’t understand how anyone would willingly live in a house with someone who clearly dislikes them. His wife has openly said she doesn’t like my daughter, and my daughter has made it clear she doesn’t like her either. So why stay? And here’s the harder thought: am I missing something deeper? Is my daughter just like my mother? Two-faced, saying one thing and doing another? What did I do to deserve this kind of treatment from the people who are supposed to love me?

Today, I confronted my mother about her lies, again. She lied straight to my face, even when I caught her in it. She’s been lying about my brother for so long, and it’s driven a wedge between us that might never heal. I know she’s getting older, and maybe her memory isn’t what it used to be, but that doesn’t excuse her bitterness or the way she twists things to suit herself.

I know I probably should apologise for how I spoke to her today. She is still my mother. But she was wrong. And she always paints herself as the victim, blaming her children for being distant, when in reality, she’s the one who pushed us away.I used to try, I really did. I called, I visited, I made an effort. And she rejected it. Once, she even asked why I was suddenly making the effort, like it was suspicious. So I stopped.

Today she accused me of not caring, of never checking in. But she never calls me either. Her phone is usually off. Yet she has time for her pastor, her church friends, just not for me.

I’m exhausted. I’m tired of the constant rejection. I’m tired of being surrounded by people who should love me, but don’t show it. My family feels disloyal, distant, and cruel and I don’t know how much more I can take.

(25th Apr 2025)

39. The Frustration of Being Questioned: Who Are We Accountable To?

I can’t believe how many times I’ve thought about this saying over the last couple of months, even in reference to myself.

The question is: why? What makes us revert to a childlike version of ourselves?

It’s not hate, it’s not fear, it’s frustration. But what makes us so frustrated that we become unable or incapable of speaking?

The removal of our rights and liberties.

Have you ever completely lost it because someone questioned your actions? How dare they! What right does anyone have to ask you a damn thing, especially when you’ve been doing it all on your own for so long?

We live in an era where we want what we want, and we want it right now, no questions asked.

So when we’re questioned, we get frustrated. How dare anyone question me? Who the hell are they? I’m an adult, so no one should dare question me or what I do!

But then, who are we accountable to?

Sometimes, you need to be accountable to more than just yourself, or you’ll forever be on the wrong path.

Or maybe you just need to tell people to mind their own business. 😡

38. The Hidden Toll of “Normal” in the Aftermath of the Pandemic.

The government says we are expected to return to “normal,” but what does that even mean?

For me, “normal” has come to feel like isolation, anxiety, stress, depression, anger, and family separation.

The damage to individual and family mental health is staggering, and I’m not sure I can ever get used to this new “normal.” I don’t want this. I’ve lost so much, not just personally but mentally as well.

Physically, I’ve suffered too, unable to access the medical help I needed, as priority was understandably given to handling the pandemic.

Over 150,000 people have died in the UK, but I believe four times that number has been mentally scarred by the fallout.

We need to address this, because the true toll on society is still unknown and far from over.

37. When the Ones You Show Up For Don’t Show Up for You.

I show up every day for my children, and I always have.

So why is it that our children don’t show up for us? In fact, they seem to try to tear me down. For what reason?

What happened to the communication where we could sit down and explain what the problem is?

Social media tantrums have become the norm these days, with supposed adults airing all their dirty laundry without realising the long-term effects of their actions.

You try every day. You keep trying. But sometimes, it feels like it’s never enough.

The let down is so real.

The frustration is so real.

The sadness is so real.

36. Do We Need to Like Our Children?

“Mum, do you like me?” That was the question my daughter posed to me today.

My response was, “I don’t need to like you, I love you.” (I was trying to be humorous), but it got me thinking 🤔.

Do we need, or even want, to like our children? And if we do, why?

I can honestly say, my life would be so much easier if I didn’t feel the need to like my children. Then I could just get on with things without worrying so much about how they feel or what they want. I could just be robotic and provide them with what’s required.

The problem is, I do want to be liked by my children.

The solution? Maybe I should switch off that “care” gene in my brain that makes me feel the need to be liked! 😆🤣

All suggestions welcome!

35. Rediscovering Me: A Journey from Self-Doubt to Self-Love.

It’s 2022, and I promised myself I was going to let go of all the dead weight and baggage from the past few years and start living again. That didn’t even last an hour into New Year’s what a joke. 😡

My youngest daughter caught Covid, and the New Year celebration felt flat. So, what did I do? I blamed myself for everything that’s happened, including her getting Covid. 🤦🏽‍♀️

Someone I trust reminded me again that I am my own problem, not anyone else, and that I need to make a change for me.

But how can I change myself?

It’s not my fault all these things have happened to me. I’ve tried to make changes, so what now? I must have done something to deserve all this, I must be paying for something I’ve done in my past, but what?

This was the beginning of my spiral(s).

I discovered I hated myself, and in turn, hated others for anything they said. All I heard were negative comments. I started tearing myself apart, focusing only on the negative. I couldn’t see anything good about myself, no matter what I did, it was never good enough. Eventually, I stopped trying altogether.

If I had an idea and someone else had the same one, I wouldn’t pursue mine because I believed the other person’s would be better. I’d quit before I even began.

I used to tell myself I was afraid of success, but in reality, I’m afraid of failure. So, I don’t bother trying. By not trying, I can’t be disappointed. So, I stopped trying new things, stopped learning, and just stood on the sidelines as everyone else moved forward.

This only reinforced my dislike for myself and made me avoid others. I became insecure around people, believing everyone was better than me.

I stopped doing things for myself and focused entirely on doing things for others even when they didn’t want me to.

My joys were centered around my children’s joys. I forgot what my own were. Their interests became mine, but now, they no longer need my depth of care and attention in the way they once did. So, what do I do now?

I had spent so long caring and grooming them that I forgot my own self-care, support, and comfort.

I neglected myself in the pursuit of making others happy. I stopped taking extra time to do my hair, nails, dress well, or even search for those perfect shoes or hats. I just plodded along with what I had, as if I didn’t matter, because, deep down, I felt like I didn’t matter.

I stopped allowing myself to be happy. What’s the point? Something always seems to tear me down. After everything the last two years have thrown at me, I’m surprised I’m still here. What else could possibly go wrong? To be safe, I didn’t even bother getting my hopes up or looking forward to anything.

I always looked at the negative side of everything, rather than seeing the positive. I didn’t trust people who gave positive feedback, thinking they were taking the piss or setting me up for something. But the negative? That was easy to believe.

I removed myself from people because I didn’t want to deal with what I thought they were saying or the constant judgment I perceived. I became isolated, yet I hated being alone. I didn’t like how I felt around others because I believed I had nothing to contribute.

But how can any of this be right?

I am unique. I’m the only person who knows how to be me, and I’m the only person who can be me. I’ve survived so much over the last two years, and I’m still here. My children have grown up and are achieving higher-than-average grades. They have bright futures ahead of them and so do I.

I have a nice home, a job, and I’m not in debt. I just forgot the most important person in my life: ME! I’m worth all the love, care, and attention I give to others. I can achieve anything I set my mind to. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone. I just need to be me.

So now, I need to discover who that is and look forward to finding that out. ☺

34. Boris and the Reluctance to Act: The Uncertainty of Another Lockdown.

I try not to watch the news too much, but sometimes I just have to check in and see what’s next.

After hearing that Ireland and Wales are shutting nightclubs after Christmas, and Scotland is going into full lockdown, I hoped Boris would have learned from his past mistakes and followed suit.

But instead, I hear he’s not adding any additional measures to what’s already in place.

What the hell is this man doing? What, or who, is he trying to put at risk by failing to take action like he should have the first time?

I’m honestly not sure my family can handle yet another lockdown. 🙄

33. The Weight of a Title: When It’s Taken Away.

What is a title?

To me, a title is an acknowledgment of an achievement, whether personal or public.

If you’ve worked hard and earned something, then you’ve earned the right to be addressed with the title that comes with it.

So who gives anyone the right to take that title away from you?

Well, I’ve had mine taken away, not by a judge or any official, but by my daughter, who’s currently under the influence of some really unhelpful people.

So, what can I do about it?

Absolutely nothing. I just need to accept that this is what it is, until it isn’t.