My son was thriving in college—until he met a girl online through a multiplayer game. Within months, he dropped out, packed his bags, and moved across the country to live with her. He called her “the one,” spoke of marriage and kids, and suddenly, her family became his new family. I hadn’t even met this girl, yet he expected me to embrace this whirlwind shift without question. I was stunned, watching my son rewrite his life script with barely a glance back at the people who raised him.
Then came the real shock: he wanted me to fly out to visit him—not just me, but his siblings too. He even suggested I pay for his girlfriend’s parents to join us so we could “bond” on a group vacation. I sat there, floored by the entitlement. I’ve worked hard my whole life, and now I was being asked to bankroll a fantasy reunion with strangers. I told him if he wanted us to meet her family, he should come home first. That didn’t go over well.
He accused me of not supporting his choices, said I was being selfish, and now we barely speak. I keep replaying the conversation, wondering if I was too harsh. But I can’t ignore the fact that love doesn’t mean blind obedience or financial sacrifice. I want to support him, but not at the cost of my dignity or common sense. It hurts to feel this distance, but I won’t be guilted into funding someone else’s dream.
I still love my son deeply, but I’ve learned that boundaries are a form of love too. If he wants to build a life with this woman, he must also learn to respect the life I’ve built. I won’t chase after him or pay for a fantasy. Maybe one day he’ll understand that family isn’t just about proximity—it’s about effort, respect, and mutual care. Until then, I’ll be here, hoping he finds his way back—not just geographically, but emotionally.
