r/offmychest

Im 49 and my daughter is 24. She recently got her first full time job and told me she os planning to move out soon for it

I was happy for her. It felt like the natural next step and she was excited. We even talked about apartments near her possible work place and how different her life was going to be there

But after that it felt like something changed in how she acted around the house. She started acting quieter amd more distant

Then one evening around mid april she told me she needed to talk to me about some things she wasnt able to get herself to speak to me. I was really really nervous

We sat down and then she said she had been thinking a lot

And after tht she thanked me and she said she knew I had always been there for her

Then she told me that even though she appreciated everything i did, she had never really seen me as her parent, rather just someone who was there while she grew up

And now that she was moving out for her job she said she didnt want to stay in contact anymore

She told me this was just because for her, there was no real connection there that made continuing the relationship feel necessary

I asked her if something had changed recently. If I had failed her in some way without realizing it but she told me that i didnt do anything wrong and it was just how she always felt but she never said it because she knew it would hurt me

I realized that the life I thought we were building together might have only ever felt that way to me

What I cant stop thinking about is how you can be present in someones entire life and still not be part of the version they carry forward when its time to leave. I dont know what that makes me to her now

I dont really know what to do with that yet but i just know that im really hurt

I am [ F 23] years old. I live in Cuba. I am writing this during the only hour of electricity I have today, because the silence weighs heavier than the hunger. I haven’t had a decent meal in four days. My mother is sick, her laughter has vanished, and her songs have gone quiet. She stares at a spot on the ceiling that I know by heart. I smile so she doesn’t see the truth. At dawn, I walk two kilometers alone to fetch water in a container heavier than my body can handle. When I get home, I blow on the damp charcoal until my eyes stingthere just to make coffee( is no gas or fuel anywhere in the country) , take it to her, and tell her we’re getting by, Mama. Eighteen months ago, I had a job at a hotel. I earned enough for her medicines. Enough to have hope. Then, the tourists disappeared, and one morning I found a padlock where my livelihood used to be. I walked home in the heat and didn’t cry. I held back the tears. Now, I braid hair in exchange for a few coins, some rice, or a bottle of oil that I treat as if it were gold. Last week, the washing machine broke, and I sat on the floor beside it for a long time. Not because of the machine, but because I am so tired of being the only thing standing between my mother and the harsh reality of this situation. I got up, filled a bucket, washed our clothes by hand, and didn’t let her see my eyes. Some nights, I sit in the dark listening to her breathe in the next room, her breathing means we still have time. I dream of being a model, I dream of hearing her sing again. Those two things are what make me get up every morning: what drive me to light the damp charcoal, walk those two kilometers, and whisper "everything will be okay" in a smoke filled kitchen. I don’t know why I’m writing this in English, addressing strangers, maybe because I needed someone outside of this darkness to know... that there’s a girl named Taily who is still here, fighting and holding onto hope every day. If this resonates with you, my messages are open...

i always thought i liked being alone. i used to look forward to having my own space and not having to deal with noise or other people's schedules.

now that i actually spend most of my time by myself, i've realized there's a big difference between enjoying solitude and feeling isolated.

some days i don't mind it at all. other days i realize i haven't had a real conversation with anyone outside of work, and it hits me harder than i expect.

i'm not looking for sympathy or anything. i just needed to admit that i miss having people around, even though i was convinced this was exactly what i wanted.