Mum snooped through Dad’s phone and immediately turned on me

When my phone rang on Christmas Eve 2018, I was enjoying a quiet evening with my wife.

When I saw the name on the screen, my heart started racing. A wave of dread and anxiety washed over me. 

It was my mum. 

We’d fallen out three months earlier over a miscommunication. She’d been offended that I hadn’t offered to pay for both our tickets to a comedy gig I’d suggested we go to, feeling hurt that I wasn’t treating her with special consideration.

This wasn’t unusual – I’d been walking on eggshells around my mum since I was a child. But this time, it’d escalated, and we hadn’t spoken since. 

I hadn’t missed her, but maybe now she was calling to extend a festive olive branch. 

I was wrong.

‘Do you want to tell me what these texts are about on your dad’s phone? Who are you to demand an apology from me?’ she said after I answered. I went cold. 

My dad had spent months trying to smooth things over, and I wanted to fix the situation but I didn’t know what to say – I couldn’t call to apologise, as I hadn’t done anything wrong. I needed an apology from her.

It seemed that Mum had searched through my dad’s phone and read our messages. I began shaking and tearing up.

For the next 15 minutes, I didn’t speak as Mum listed my various failings as a daughter.

I owed her, she said, for the food she gave me and the roof she had put over my head growing up. I was disrespectful, stuck up; an awful person, and other people thought it, too. 

She stormed into the room and flipped the coffee table, smashing glass all over me

According to her, nobody liked me. 

I held my tongue for as long as possible but this comment bothered me the most. 

Then I hung up, took a deep breath and tried to calm down as my wife held me. 

After a few minutes, I called my mum back and she answered straight away. 

As calmly and forcefully as I could, I said: ‘You will never, ever speak to me like that again. I’m an adult, a good person and I deserve respect. That is the last time you will do that.’

My mum didn’t reply. I hung up and that was the last phone call I ever had with her.

In the months that followed, there was no contact between me and my family. 

The phone call hadn’t come out of the blue, though. It was one of the closing chapters of a relationship fraught with tension and abuse. 

My childhood outwardly was a happy one; but behind closed doors, Mum had a vicious temper. She was violent, and verbally and emotionally abusive towards me. The smallest thing would set her off. 

When I was nine, I sat at a glass coffee table in our living room drawing a picture. Mum asked me to help her with something in the kitchen. I replied ‘…in a minute’. She stormed into the room and flipped the coffee table, smashing glass all over me. 

Dad came in and asked what I’d done to set her off. In de-escalating a situation, my dad would always put the blame on me as he was afraid of her, too.

My mum would regularly tell me: ‘I love you, but I don’t like you’.

Mum once told me, when she’d had a drink, that she didn’t care about other people being gay, but she didn’t want it on her doorstep

It hurt more to see how differently my mum treated my sister, never raising a hand to her. She was outgoing, confident and cheeky, but Mum found it endearing.

I came out as gay when I was 15 and Mum didn’t take the news well. After crying, she decided that it must be a phase. It was like someone had died.

Mum once told me, when she’d had a drink, that she didn’t care about other people being gay, but she didn’t want it on her doorstep. Thankfully my dad was supportive. 

Mum told her friends how accepting she was, to keep up appearances. Yet, throughout my life, Mum struggled to accept my sexuality.

After I moved out, our relationship initially seemed to improve. However, within a year of me leaving for university, Mum started fostering, using my bedroom. It became difficult to go home as there was nowhere to stay. 

In my twenties there’d often be prolonged periods of no contact; but Mum would occasionally send me gifts. I always texted to say thank you – but that would be the extent of our contact. 

The gifts never came with any conversation to discuss mending the past hurt. Unless we dealt with the root of our issues, I knew the cycle of emotional abuse would repeat itself so I kept any contact to the bare minimum. 

My parents attended my wedding but the whole day was tense. Mum went to bed early and left the venue the next morning without saying goodbye to my wife’s family.

My parents didn’t get me a wedding present or even a card.

Four years after the phone call on Christmas Eve, my phone suddenly lit up with texts from my dad. He was angry, asking why I had no consideration for Mum’s feelings – but I hadn’t spoken to her in years. 

The irrationality and narcissism Mum exhibited was the reason I could no longer have a relationship with her

He explained that she’d seen a photograph on social media of a painting I’d done for my in-laws as a 70th birthday present. Mum was in hysterics, upset that I’d made the gift for my father-in-law and not for her.

I knew then that this really was the end. The irrationality and narcissism Mum exhibited was the reason I could no longer have a relationship with her. 

For the first time, I spelled out my desire for no contact and drew a clear boundary across a toxic relationship that brought neither of us any joy. 

The estrangement with her has cost me a relationship with my dad and sister, too – but not having to deal with Mum’s outbursts is a relief. 

My sister refuses to see or speak to me, and although Dad tried to maintain contact, I think things have become too difficult for him to continue. 

I don’t want them to have to take sides, and I’m glad that they have a family unit that works for them. 

I don’t mourn the loss of the mother/daughter relationship at all – I never really had one anyway. I believe my mum is a deeply troubled person, but without acknowledging the things she’s done and seeking help, a healthy relationship between us is impossible.

I can’t see her ever changing.

My advice to those with parents exhibiting abusive behaviour is to try and work through any issues in a calm and constructive way, but not to be afraid to draw clear boundaries to protect yourself if necessary. 

Family doesn’t just come in the form of blood relatives – chosen families are just as important.

If someone isn’t bringing joy and happiness to your life, sometimes you have to put yourself first.