I haven’t spoken to my daughter for 6 years. I’m desperate to tell her my side of the story

Keeping my eyes fixed on the road, I mulled my teenage daughter’s words over in my mind.

‘If you take Mum to court, I’ll never speak to you again.’

That was the ultimatum she’d just given me, on her birthday no less, and I was at a loss for what to say.

I’d tried everything I could think of to prevent a situation like this from happening. I’d moved out of our family home at my soon to be ex-wife’s insistence and tried inviting her for multiple rounds of mediation all so that we could try to avoid a messy divorce.

But nothing ever seemed to be enough. Going to court to settle the divorce really was the only option left.

I tried to explain all this to my daughter as gently as I could, but it was no use. In her mind, I was the one splitting up our family and treating her mum like a criminal. I was the villain.

That conversation was the last one we ever had – and it happened six years ago.

Not a day goes by when I don’t think of all my girls – who are all under 25 – and wish that things could be different. But what I want them to understand, more than anything, is that I was never leaving them.

My ex wife and I met when we were both in our early 20s and attending the same university.

I was, by my own admission, a bit introverted and shy and therefore inexperienced when it came to dating and relationships. But she was a whirlwind.

She was fun loving, had a huge personality and was a real social butterfly. I think at first that’s what attracted me most to her and I liked that we seemed to balance each other out – she brought out my social side and I calmed her down.

As this was my first relationship though, I tended to follow her lead.

It was her idea for us to move into a flat on campus together after only a few months of dating, and she soon suggested we get a joint bank account to help pay bills and fund holidays.

To me, that seemed a sensible, normal thing that couples do. But my friends thought differently.

Some said our relationship appeared to be very one-sided – with me funding the pot and doting on her and seemingly getting nothing in return. I didn’t see it that way though.

I was happy and felt sure this was the best (and maybe only) opportunity I’d have to spend my life with someone. To be happy.

That’s why, when she suddenly proposed to me after only a couple of years of being together, I happily accepted. Sure it felt strange not to be the one asking, but I was caught up in the idea of our ‘happily ever after’.

However, not long after our engagement, I moved to South America for several weeks as part of my studies and while I was there she emailed me wanting to call the whole thing off.

She never quite explained why she wanted to end things, but I always presumed it was because she wanted a partner more like her. Someone with a bigger personality and a large, rowdy group of friends.

Whatever her reasons though, I wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

So I spent hundreds of pounds and every moment I wasn’t working or studying standing at a payphone in the middle of the boondocks trying to convince her that we could make this work. I even paid for her to fly out and see me so we could work through it together.

Hindsight being 20:20 I should have let things be – she had already tried to end our relationship once before – but I was convinced she was the only woman for me.

Somehow, we did get back to a good place and in the 2000s we got married at a lovely little church and had a huge reception with all our friends.

But if I’m totally honest, the romantic feelings she had towards me seemed to be fading fast. Physical intimacy became practically non-existent and there were times on our honeymoon where we acted more like friends than newlyweds.

Still, we limped on and welcomed our first daughter a few years later and our second a couple of years after that, then we settled into a new routine as a family.

As a couple though, the next few years saw a gradual decline in our intimacy. I don’t just mean sex either – there was a real lack of kindness between us. 

I began to feel resentment towards her and we argued a lot – mainly because I was working long hours so she could work part-time – but never when the girls were within earshot.

We still wanted to present as this loving, happy family.

That was a hard facade to keep up though, especially when, after I took some time out of further my studies (which resulted in a significant pay cut and spending even more time away from home), I learned she was having an affair.

While I knew things were far from perfect between us, the betrayal still devastated me. And when she asked me to move out saying, ‘Our relationship isn’t working anymore.’ I had to agree.

I moved back in with my parents and, because I was so angry at what she’d done, I actually didn’t speak or see my daughters for several weeks. That’s something I now deeply regret – I should not have taken my pain out on them, but I did.

After a few months though, she reached out to me asking if we could attend a counselling session with Relate – the largest provider of relationship support in England and Wales – and try to move past it.

Desperate to have normality restored for both myself and the children, I agreed. But we only attended one session and we fell pregnant with baby number three soon after. 

After I took some time out of work to complete a PHD, I learned she was having an affair

As happy as her arrival made all of us though, it wasn’t enough to fix what were fast becoming gaping chasms in our relationship.

My wife became more and more dominant, deciding everything for the children, choosing holidays and even solely picking the house we would live in. 

Over the course of a few years she slowly cut my parents off from seeing the older two girls and my relationship with them started to become strained too as my wife involved herself in every conversation I had with either of them.

She started to point out that pay was better abroad and I should get a job overseas and send the money back.

Frankly, I started to dread coming home. I was depressed and started to plan my way out in more ways than one. I did consider suicide, though never went through with it, and ultimately decided that if my ex had another affair then that was it. I’d be done.

What actually happened though was that I was the one who cheated and that ended our marriage for good. 

I’m not proud of this by any means, and though it’s not an excuse, the brief affair I had saved my life. For a moment I didn’t feel trapped. However, the moment my wife discovered what had happened she, rightly, asked me to leave.

I moved into my own place and one afternoon took myself for a walk to a local field and just screamed out loud. The relief and sense of freedom I felt was immediate.

And while we’d never be that nuclear family again, I was hopeful that by leaving what was undoubtedly a toxic relationship, I could rebuild my relationship with my two eldest daughters, and continue building a healthy one with my youngest.

That wouldn’t happen though as my ex soon began filing injunction after injunction against me – saying I was displaying threatening behaviour and stepping into her property uninvited, when in reality all I did was drop my youngest daughter home and let her inside. I think she wanted more money, which of course just ended up going to the lawyers.

I’m not proud of this by any means, and though it’s not an excuse, the brief affair I had with a colleague at work saved my life

Luckily the judge knew none of these injunctions had any basis and threw them out, but it did make it increasingly difficult for me to see them.

I still texted, sent cards and tried to see my eldest two as much as possible but it soon became clear that my wife was telling them just one side of the story and demonising me. That’s when my daughter gave me her ultimatum.

Of course, I had no choice and that means I have been estranged from my eldest two ever since.

Thankfully, I was allowed to continue seeing my youngest daughter due to a Child Arrangements Order, and I cannot imagine how hard it must have been for her trying to balance having a relationship with me when her sisters wanted nothing to do with me.  

But even now, as she approaches her teenage years, I can feel her distancing from me. I am desperate to hang onto our bond but it’s also natural for her to ask more about the divorce now she is older. I just hope I don’t lose her too.

My second born is currently at university and of course I still send messages and birthday gifts, but I don’t want to be overbearing. I’m trying to keep those lines open should she ever want to reconnect, but I’ll also understand if she just wants to move on.

As for my eldest, I recently saw her for her birthday and we hugged for the first time in years. It was incredible and I am hopeful it could be the first step towards us reconciling, but I also don’t want to push her.

Mostly, it seems crazy to me that she’s now the age I was when I met her mother. I now know it was no age to make the decisions we did, and I want my daughter to live her life first and understand who she is before she settles down. The last thing I’d want is for history to repeat itself.

Being apart from my children tears me up every single day. I wish I could tell them my side of the story and that we could have a relationship.

I remain hopeful that that could happen one day.

As told to Emma Rossiter

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