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My Dad Excluded His Grandkids From a Family Vacation

Sometimes, second chances can hurt more than the original wound. That’s what happened to Andrew, a reader who wrote to us to share a deeply moving family story: what happens when an absent parent returns, but not to stay with you, but to start a new life with someone else? His testimony is a mixture of hope and disappointment, and raises the difficult question: is it worth keeping trying when love does not seem to be reciprocated?

We invite you to read his letter.
Dear,

I’m writing because I’m in a difficult place emotionally with my father and could really use some outside perspective.

My brother and I are both in our 30s and have children of our own. My parents divorced when I was young, so I never developed a strong bond with my father. He wasn’t there for birthdays, holidays or any other important occasions. However, our mum never filled our heads with bitterness. She raised us with grace and always said that we were free to have a relationship with him if we wanted to.
However, a couple of years ago, he resurfaced. Out of the blue, he got in touch, saying he wanted to reconnect. We found out that, during his absence, he had married an older woman who had left him a significant amount of money when she passed away. Shortly afterwards, he got a new, younger girlfriend who had two children of her own.

At first, we were hopeful. Maybe we could build something together, even if it was late in the day. But things quickly became complicated.

He invited my brother and me on holiday, but said no grandchildren allowed. He said he wanted it to be just adults. My brother was angry. He said that if his children weren’t welcome, then he wouldn’t be either. So we refused and thought that was it.

Our father did not take that well. He told us that we were being difficult and ungrateful. Before I had the chance to talk to him about it, he cancelled the trip and went away with his girlfriend and her children instead. It felt like rejection all over again.

To make things worse, his girlfriend called us his “starter family” and treated us as if we were an inconvenience from a life he was trying to leave behind. It’s hard to be around her without feeling judged or out of place.

Now I am torn. Part of me wants to confront him and tell him how hurtful all of this is making me feel. Another part of me wonders if it’s even worth trying. He has money now, and acts as if that entitles him to control everything, including how we reconnect. I cannot tell whether he truly wants a relationship, or if he just wants us to be grateful that he has shown up again.

What should I do? Is it worth trying to build a relationship with him, or should I finally stop hoping for something he may never be willing to give?
Sincerely,
– Andrew

Thank you, Andrew, for opening up! We know it’s not easy to talk about family hurts, especially when they come from someone as important as a parent. This is hurtful, and it’s completely valid to feel confused, angry or sad. However, it is also important that you ask yourself what is best for you and your emotional well-being, rather than just accepting the situation.

Here is some advice that could help you, and anyone else, through this difficult time.
Set healthy boundaries. Even if they are a parent, you have the right to protect yourself from emotional harm. If their behavior makes you feel bad, it’s OK to distance yourself or tell them that you’ve had enough.

Don’t minimize your feelings. Just because your parent has a new partner or family doesn’t mean that your needs and emotions are invalid. Feeling displaced is not immature; it’s human.

Have an honest conversation if you feel it might be worthwhile. Sometimes, expressing our feelings out loud can help us to move on, or at least gain a better understanding of where the other person is coming from.

Don’t blame yourself. None of this is your responsibility. The effort to heal cannot be one-sided.

Choose your own family. Sometimes the deepest bonds are formed not through blood, but through love, presence, and reciprocity. Surround yourself with people who choose you.

Seek emotional support. Talking to a therapist or people who have been through something similar can provide valuable insight and support throughout this process.

Andrew’s story reminds us that familial love should never feel like an ongoing audition to prove our worthiness of affection. Sometimes, the healthiest thing we can do is stop waiting for what was never going to come and start taking care of ourselves with the same dedication we expected to receive.

What would you do if you were in his position? Would you give your father another chance, or prioritize your own peace? What advice would you give to Andrew if he were here with you?.

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Story

When Laura goes to pick her daughter up from her Dad’s, she hears a piercing scream ring through the air. She entered a scene where her daughter was on the floor, and Katie, her stepmother, was standing above her, holding a broom. What has Laura walked into? My husband, Noah, and I divorced a long time ago. Now, he is married to his new wife, Katie. We share a daughter, Lexie, so we’re still on good terms — trying to give her a childhood without drama. The ebb and flow of co-parenting with my ex-husband had become a familiar rhythm — one week with me, followed by one week with him. To my relief, Katie had seamlessly woven herself into our daughter’s life. While a twinge of discomfort lingered, I understood her profound impact on our child’s well-being. “Katie is going to be a second mother to Lex,” Noah said one day as he dropped our little girl off. “But she’s not a replacement mother.” I was okay with it. I’d rather have Katie, who loved Noah and Lexie, in our lives than someone who just wanted Noah and nothing to do with his family. Anyway, as Friday rolled around, signifying the end of Lexie’s week with Noah, I was ready to pick her up. Approaching the front door, I prepared for the customary exchange of politeness, with Katie telling me about whatever recipe of mine she tried. I have to hand it to her, Katie is a great cook, and she tries to cook my recipes occasionally so Lexie can have “home food” when she’s there. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still awkward around Katie, and adjusting to having her in my daughter’s life has been tough, but we’re doing our best to make things easy on Lexie. Walking up the front porch, deep in thought, I noticed that the door was slightly ajar and pushed it open further. “Hello?” I called out. But a piercing scream ran through the house before I could say anything else. Lexie’s scream. I knew it instantly. Panic grabbed a hold of me, propelling me inside without a second thought. after rushing through the house, I found myself in the kitchen where Katie stood, looming with a broom above my daughter. “Lexie?” I asked, unsure of what I was seeing. “What in the world is going on?!” My initial reaction was to lash out at Katie, accusing her of harming my child — the scene had been right there before me. My daughter was on the floor, looking like she had been flung there, and her stepmother standing above her, holding a broom. But just as the words formed on my lips, my gaze shifted to a sudden scurry of tiny feet in the corner of the room. “It’s a rat!” Katie exclaimed, her eyes focused on the bin. “Lexie, jump up!” Lexie sprung from the floor onto a chair. “Mom!” Lexie shouted. “Hit it!” Katie threw the boom to me while she grabbed a mop from next to where she was standing. “Damn it,” I said, chuckling. “I tried to shoo it away,” Katie said. “But then, Lexie tripped and fell because it ran over her shoe.” “It went crazy!!” Lexie said from the chair. “It just jumped onto my foot in the living room and then ran into the kitchen.” “Okay, let’s just get it out of here,” I said, trying to hide my sheepish grin. I opened the kitchen door to the back porch, and after a few minutes of silence and gentle shooing, the rat promptly took himself outside. “Come on, honey,” Katie said to Lexie, offering her a hand as Lexie jumped down. “I’ll get an exterminator to come over tomorrow and check out the property,” Katie told me, looking embarrassed. “But I’ll leave some mousetraps around later.” I was still shaking the thought that Katie might have hurt my child. I should have known that she wouldn’t do anything to harm Lexie — she was “our” child, after all. “I’m sorry,” Katie said, as if she could read my mind. “That was a bit of a scene to walk into.” “It’s fine,” I replied, my initial anger evaporating. “I just… I’m sorry, Katie. I just jumped the gun and thought that you were attacking her.” Katie shook her head and put her hand on my arm. “I would never do that,” she said. “I think I was more afraid of it than she was.” We stood in the disheveled living room, the aftermath of the skirmish evident. “Come on,” Katie said. “Let’s have some tea before you go.” We sat at the dining table after Lexie ensured the rodent wasn’t hiding beneath the table. I watched Katie move smoothly around the kitchen, making tea and taking a pie out of the fridge. “I never thought I’d have to fight a rat in my own home,” Katie said, a genuine smile breaking through. “Yeah, well, we can add that to the list of things we never expected,” I replied, the tension of earlier entirely replaced by a newfound connection. I watched how Katie protected Lexie — even if it was from a rat. And I realized everything was okay. Katie would keep my child safe when I wasn’t around. The afternoon unfolded with us sitting at the table, sipping tea, and sharing stories about our childhood fears. I figured it was essential for Lexie to see that despite everything, Katie and I were on good terms. That Lexie could have a stable family life even though her Dad and I were no longer together. I was grateful that I had kept my cool when I walked into Noah and Katie’s house. Admittedly, Lexie’s scream had elicited a highly maternal reaction from me, and I would have lashed out at Katie had I not taken a moment to see the situation for what it was — a funny encounter. Has anything similar happened to you when co-parenting your kids?