Mettiamo in chiaro una cosa: I’m not running a community daycare where people can pop in, play with my kids for five minutes, and then go back to ignoring me like I don’t exist. Nope. Not happening. If you can’t respect me, you don’t get access to my tiny humans. Family or not, the rules are the same.
Now, before anyone clutches their pearls and gasps about “family values,” let me clarify something: I am all for family. I love family. I believe in connection, love, and all those wholesome things that look great on holiday cards. But here’s what I don’t believe in—people treating me like an optional side dish while expecting VIP access to my kids like they’re the main course.
The “You Don’t Matter, But Your Kids Do” Phenomenon
Ah, yes. The classic move. Some relatives will barely acknowledge my existence, but the second I have kids, they’re suddenly interested. Before, they couldn’t be bothered to check in, remember my birthday, or, I don’t know, treat me like a human being. But the moment I produced offspring? They’re front and center, acting like I owe them a backstage pass to my children’s lives.
I see you, Aunt Karen. I see you.
And it’s not just the occasional distant cousin—it’s the people who made it clear they don’t like me, don’t respect me, or don’t value me, yet think they can waltz in and play the “loving family member” card when it comes to my kids. Oh, honey. No.
Respect Isn’t a Buffet—You Can’t Pick and Choose
I had a relative (who shall remain nameless, but if they’re reading this—yes, it’s you) who made it clear they didn’t approve of my life choices. I wasn’t doing things the way they thought I should, and let’s just say, their support was… nonexistent. They never reached out. Never made an effort. Never showed up when I actually needed them.
But then—oh, THEN—I had kids. Suddenly, they were sliding into my messages, all “When can I see the babies?” e “I’d love to take them for a weekend!”
Oh, would you now? That’s fascinating, considering you haven’t spoken to me in two years. Suddenly, I’m good enough to birth adorable grandchildren/nieces/nephews, but not good enough to be treated with basic kindness? Yeah, I don’t think so.
This Isn’t a Reality Show, and You’re Not a Guest Star
Here’s the thing: My kids don’t exist to entertain you. They’re not little accessories you can borrow to feel like a fun aunt or a doting grandparent while conveniently skipping over the part where you have a relationship with me. If you don’t like me, I guarantee my kids don’t need you in their lives either.
Because, let’s be real—children are smart. They pick up on things. You think they won’t notice that their mom gets cold-shouldered while their presence is celebrated? You think they won’t feel the weird energy of someone who adores them but conveniently ignores the person who raises them? Trust me, they’ll notice. And one day, they’ll ask questions.
Boundaries Are Not Up for Debate
Now, some people will say, “But it’s not fair to the kids! They deserve to have a relationship with family!”
Sure. And I deserve to be treated like a human being. Both things can be true.
This is where boundaries come in. I have zero problem keeping my kids away from people who can’t respect their mother. It’s not about revenge, it’s not about being petty, and it’s certainly not about playing gatekeeper—it’s about protecting the kind of environment I want my kids to grow up in.
And let’s be honest—what kind of message would I be sending if I allowed people to treat me like an afterthought while happily handing over my kids for weekend visits? No thanks. I’d rather teach my children that respect is a two-way street, not a toll-free highway for whoever feels entitled to them.
The “But We’re Faaamily” Argument? Try Again.
Oh, the classic guilt trip. “But we’re family! Blood is thicker than water!”
First of all, let’s get one thing straight—the actual quote is “The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.” Which means chosen bonds are stronger than birth ties. So, if you’re gonna quote it, at least get it right.
Secondly, being related by blood does not mean you get a free pass to be disrespectful, dismissive, or absent for the hard stuff while demanding access to the good parts. Family is not an automatic membership club with lifetime benefits. It’s a relationship that requires effort.
So, if someone is out here treating me like a second-class citizen but still expects to hold my babies, feed them cookies, and play the doting relative, they are in for a rude awakening.
You Want to Be in Their Lives? Start with Me.
It’s simple: You want to be in my kids’ lives? Treat me like a person. Not as an inconvenience. Not as a problem. Not as an obstacle standing between you and the grandchildren/nieces/nephews you suddenly want to claim.
I’m not asking for over-the-top affection, endless check-ins, or constant validation. I’m asking for basic respect. A text now and then. A little effort. A smidge of acknowledgment that I exist outside of my role as “the one who birthed the kids.”
Because, let me tell you—if you act like I don’t matter, you will be shocked to find out that, in my world, voi don’t matter either. And my kids? They will be just fine without the people who couldn’t be bothered to care about their mom.
So, to those who think they can dismiss me and still expect a front-row seat in my kids’ lives? My response is simple: Not on my watch.