“When My Daughter Was 12, I Had to Leave for Work Abroad”: Now She Hates Me for Abandoning Her When She Needed Me Most

I’m 55 years old now, and my daughter, Emily, is 30. We used to live in a small apartment in New York City. Life was tough, but we managed. When Emily was just 4 years old, I made the heart-wrenching decision to divorce my husband. He was an addict, and his addiction had taken over our lives. He wasn’t working, and his behavior became increasingly erratic and dangerous. I knew I had to protect Emily and myself.

After the divorce, I had to rely solely on my income to support us. My ex-husband provided no financial support, and his addiction only worsened. We fell behind on rent, and the threat of eviction loomed over us constantly. I worked multiple jobs just to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. Emily was my world, and I did everything I could to make sure she had a stable life despite the chaos.

When Emily turned 12, our financial situation became dire. The cost of living in New York City was skyrocketing, and my multiple jobs were barely enough to cover our basic needs. I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. One day, I received a job offer from a friend who had moved to Canada. It was a well-paying job that promised financial stability, but it required me to move abroad.

I agonized over the decision. Leaving Emily behind was the last thing I wanted to do, but I saw no other way out of our financial crisis. I spoke with my sister, who lived in a nearby town, and she agreed to take care of Emily while I was away. With a heavy heart, I accepted the job and moved to Canada.

The first few months were incredibly difficult. I missed Emily terribly, and every phone call ended in tears. Emily tried to be strong, but I could hear the pain in her voice. She needed her mother, and I wasn’t there for her. As time went on, our phone calls became less frequent. Emily started to distance herself from me, and I could feel her resentment growing.

Years passed, and I managed to save enough money to return to New York City. By then, Emily was 18 and about to graduate from high school. I hoped that we could rebuild our relationship, but it wasn’t that simple. Emily was angry and hurt. She felt abandoned during the most crucial years of her life.

I tried to explain my reasons for leaving, but Emily couldn’t forgive me. She blamed me for missing out on her childhood and for not being there when she needed me most. Our relationship became strained, and we barely spoke.

Now, at 30 years old, Emily has built a life of her own. She’s successful in her career and has a family of her own. But the rift between us remains. We see each other occasionally during holidays or family gatherings, but the warmth and closeness we once shared are gone.

I live with the regret of my decision every day. I thought I was doing what was best for us by providing financial stability, but in the process, I lost my daughter’s trust and love. Emily may never forgive me, and that’s a burden I will carry for the rest of my life.