“Now I Dread My Daughter’s Calls: She Only Reaches Out for Money”

Gabriella used to be the light of our lives. My husband Michael and I would eagerly await her calls, cherishing every moment we could spend talking to our only daughter. But now, those calls have become a source of dread and disappointment.

It all started when Gabriella moved out for college. We were so proud of her, watching her take those first steps toward independence. She was always a bright student, full of dreams and ambitions. But as time went on, her calls became less frequent and more transactional.

“Hey Mom, can you send me some money? I need it for textbooks,” she would say. At first, we didn’t think much of it. College is expensive, and we wanted to support her in any way we could. But soon, the requests became more frequent and less justifiable.

“Mom, I need money for rent,” “Dad, can you help me out with my car payment?” The reasons kept piling up, and each time we sent her the money, hoping it would be the last time. But it never was.

When Gabriella graduated, we hoped things would change. She got a job in a different city, and we thought she would finally stand on her own two feet. But the calls for money didn’t stop. If anything, they became more desperate.

“Mom, I lost my job. Can you help me with my bills?” “Dad, I need money for groceries.” Each call was a new crisis, and each time we sent her the money, she would disappear again, only to resurface when she needed more.

It wasn’t just the money that hurt us; it was the realization that Gabriella didn’t care about us anymore. She never called to ask how we were doing or to share her life with us. It was always about what she needed from us.

One day, I decided to confront her. “Gabriella, why do you only call us when you need money? Don’t you care about us at all?” There was a long silence on the other end of the line before she finally responded.

“Mom, it’s not like that. I’m just going through a tough time right now,” she said. But her words felt hollow, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were nothing more than an ATM to her.

Michael tried to be more understanding. “She’s our daughter, Aubrey. We have to help her,” he would say. But even he couldn’t ignore the growing distance between us and Gabriella.

The final straw came when Gabriella called us in the middle of the night, crying and begging for money to pay off a debt. We sent her the money, but this time, I couldn’t hold back my anger.

“Gabriella, this has to stop. You can’t keep using us like this,” I told her. She hung up on me, and we didn’t hear from her for months.

When she finally called again, it was the same story. She needed money for something urgent. This time, we said no. The silence that followed was deafening.

Gabriella hasn’t called us since. Michael and I sit by the phone every day, hoping she’ll reach out for something other than money. But deep down, we know that our relationship with our daughter is broken beyond repair.

We gave her everything we could, but it was never enough. And now, we’re left with nothing but the painful realization that Gabriella doesn’t care about us anymore.