Mom Kicked Me out When I Turned 18, Now She Begs to Live with Me Instead of Moving to a Nursing Home – My Story

I thought my mother and I had a great relationship until she kicked me out of the house a few days after my 18t birthday. Things were complicated afterward, but I was honestly stunned when she came to me with an outrageous request many years later.

Growing up, my mother, Charlotte, and I were inseparable. Most of the time, people had no idea we were mother and daughter because we acted like best friends. My mother raised me on her own, and although it would've been nice to have a father, I never really thought I was missing anything.

She gave me all she could and worked hard for everything I had. Therefore, I decided to do the same for her one day. I wanted to become a doctor as soon as I heard they made good money.

Despite not lacking anything growing up, I saw my mom worrying about money. Some nights, I saw her going through the bills and sighing heavily.

I wished I could help, so I got a part-time gig even though I had a full schedule with many AP classes and extracurricular activities to pad my college apps. Mom told me to save all the money for college, as I might not be able to work while taking all those challenging classes, but every so often, I treated her to takeout and even a small shopping trip where we laughed and smiled.

She was not interested. And her words were the straw that broke the camel's back.

I planned to stay home during college because I was applying to nearby universities. That would save me money, and I could ensure Mom was not alone. However, I should've known that things wouldn't be so perfect.

When I was 17, my mother started dating Harry. He seemed nice enough, although I suspected he didn't like me much. I was also not so pleased that he moved in way too quickly. But my mother seemed happy so I couldn't fault her for that.

I had never seen her date before. I always thought she didn't want to deal with men after my father left when I was just a baby, but I was wrong. She just didn't have much time.

At 17, I was almost grown up and pretty independent. She didn't have to mother me anymore. However, we still gossiped, laughed, and watched movies on the nights Harry had to work late. Things were still cool back then.

But something I never imagined happened on my 18th birthday. I had graduated and been accepted to a nearby college. I won a small scholarship that wouldn't cover everything, so I would have to work and get some student loans to complete my degree.

That wasn't a problem. My mother taught me the value of hard work, and I was ready to face the world with her. I was going to become a wealthy doctor, and no one could stop me except for what she did after I turned 18.

***

"Hey, Mom. What's up?" I asked, sifting through papers relating to my college classes, so I barely looked up as she entered my room.

"Emma, I think we need to talk," she said, sitting on my bed.

"Sure," I continued, still absent-minded.

"Can you look at me, please?" she continued, and her strange tone made me look up. Her face was blank, and I knew right away that something was up.

"Is everything alright?"

"Well, that's just it. I don't know how to say this exactly, but you're 18 now, and I think it's time for you to move out," Mom said and nodded as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

My eyes widened as my mouth dropped, but nothing came out. She saw my shock and continued speaking.

"I don't know exactly what you were planning. But I don't see any bags or anything, so I came here to tell you that it's time for you to leave," Mom added and smiled. That smile pulled me out of my stupor.

"What? Are you serious? I'm barely 18," I uttered.

"And you're a high school graduate and about to start college. It's time for you to be independent," she persisted, shrugging and grinning.

"Why? I thought it would be alright to stay and live here during my college years," I shook my head. "I know we didn't talk about it, but I didn't think there would be any problem."

"Maybe we should've had this discussion sooner, but I don't know what gave you the idea that I would just let you live here," Mom scoffed. "Unless you start paying rent, and renting a room in this house will be pricey, so I don't know if you want that. Also, you would have to pay for your food –"

"Mom! What the hell are you talking about? Rent? Pay for my own food? I thought… I… we… I thought we were in this together. You're my mother!" I blabbered.

"I am your mother," she said slowly, nodding. "But you're 18 now. My obligations to you are over. You're an adult. I did my job, and now, it's time for you to leave."

"Obligation? We're family! We're best friends! I don't understand why you're doing this!" I stressed, getting up from my bed and pacing my room. Well, it wasn't my room anymore, apparently.

"We are family, but that doesn't mean you can stay here for free," she replied, pouting and shaking her head. "This is the real world, and in the real world, you have to be responsible. You have to fend for yourself. Now, I'm not a monster, so I'm giving you a week to move out. You can take anything from this room as I did buy all this for you."

She stood too and started to walk away, but I spoke, "Is this about Harry? Does he want me out?"

Mom turned with a confused expression. "No, this is not about Harry. This is my house. I make the rules, and you should start packing," she answered and walked out.

I stared at the doorway for the longest minutes of my life. This was not something I ever expected. If someone had told me my mother would kick me out at 18, I would've scoffed and told them they were delusional. But she did. She wanted me out. Me. Her daughter. Her best friend. Out. And it wasn't even about her boyfriend. It was all just her.

I snapped out of my trance and surveyed my room. I had no means, barely any money in a savings account, and now, I had no home. So, I grabbed my book bag and another bigger bag in my closet and started placing things inside.

I had to ask Mom for all my essential papers, like my birth certificate. I was numb while she smiled sweetly and produced them all for me.

I finished filling up everything, and I still had no idea what to do. Back then, we didn't have cell phones, the Internet, or Google, so I couldn't search for solutions. But I grabbed the landline while I heard my mother in the shower and called my best friend, Sophia.

I told her everything, and she didn't believe me for a long time until I started crying on the phone.

"Ok, come over. My parents love you. We'll work something out," she assured me. I hung up, dried my tears, and went to my room.

I changed clothes, grabbed my heaviest jacket, and covered myself. I held my bags and went out.

"You're leaving already?" I heard her ask as I reached the doorway.

I turned, hoping deep in my heart that she would change her mind and tell me this was some kind of crazy prank she was pulling. But her expression was merely curious. "Well…yeah?" I said although it was more of a question.

"Ok. Good luck!" she replied, waving her fingers and turning to the kitchen.

I stared for a few seconds and finally walked away.

It took me only three hours to leave my childhood home forever. But years later, I still remember every single detail. It was the moment that changed everything for me. It was also the biggest heartbreak of my entire life.

I walked to Sophia's house as fast as I could. I cried in her arms; even her parents were shocked by this development. They asked me if we had fought. They asked if I had problems with Harry. The answer was no. My mother kicked me, as crazy as that sounded to almost everyone who knew us.

For years, I suspected that Sophia's mom called my mom that night, but I was never sure. I knew she treated me to a great breakfast the next day and told me I could stay as long as I wanted. They cleared the guest room for me.

But I couldn't stay there long. Sophia was leaving as she got into an out-of-state college. I had to make some hard decisions then. I couldn't go to college like that. I had to fend for myself, and a part-time job would not house or feed me.

So, I dropped out and started working in retail and as a maid at a hotel during the night shifts. It was tough, but I accumulated enough for a small studio apartment and left Sophia's home two months after getting there.

You must think I cut contact with my mom right then and there. Unfortunately, no. Somehow, she got my new apartment's number and called often. She chatted and acted like we were the closest friends still. Like she hadn't done anything or derailed my entire life.

But I still answered and listened with my heart in my throat. She was my only family, after all.

After a few years, I met a wonderful man, Noah. He was actually a doctor already and a few years older than me. But he was the love of my life. We moved in together and were married in less than a year. We eloped so I wouldn't have to deal with the decision of inviting or not inviting my mother.

Noah encouraged me to quit my job and go to college at last. He paid for it; by then, I was completely different. I didn't want to be a doctor anymore. So, I studied business and graduated while pregnant with my first child.

I hoped that my mom would meet my children. But she was not interested. And her words were the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Hey, I know people think they can get free babysitting from grandparents, but no way, Jose. Not for me," she laughed during a phone call. For once, I didn't follow along.

"Goodbye, Mother," I said quietly and hung up.

After all these years, I finally cut contact. It was one thing for her to pretend and treat me like trash. But I realized I didn't want that for my kids. So, it was time to remove her from life altogether.

Many years passed, and I ignored every call, and I never gave her my cell phone when those started coming out.

I thought I would never speak to her again until she showed up at my doorstep with the most outrageous request.

"I need to move in with you," she said and walked briskly into my house as soon as I opened the door. No hello. No nothing. And I didn't even have time to stop her.

She quickly explained that she was getting old and wanted to retire but didn't like nursing homes, so she had to move into my house. I told her no. Immediately. The word just escaped. But Charlotte didn't listen and continued. She went on and on.

I still refused.

"I'm your mother!" she even yelled at some point. "You have to take me in. It's your responsibility!"

I almost wanted to laugh. It was remarkably similar to what I had said years ago. But I was still too shocked to laugh. I shook my head, and finally, she broke down in tears. She sat on my couch and talked about being lonely for years and how she was worried because she was not strong enough and often got terrible headaches.

Despite what she had done to me, she was my mother. And although I had told her no, I was hesitant.

So, what would you do? Should I let her move in with me, or should I turn her away cavalierly as she did when I was a teenager?

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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about twin sisters who were kicked out of the house by their mother and later discovered they owned their grandmother's house.

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