AITA for Refusing to Violate My Son’s Boundary When His Boss Asked Me To?
When my son’s boss showed up at my door, insisting I go to my son’s house and “fix things,” I said no. My son told me not to contact him—and no matter how much it hurts, I’m choosing to respect that.
I’m a 55-year-old mother of two adult sons. My youngest, who’s 31, hasn’t spoken to me since July after a huge disagreement. It started when his ex-girlfriend’s mother stopped by one night, and I invited her in. We talked for a few hours—nothing malicious, just catching up. But when my son found out, he was furious. He told me I had no right to let her into my home and that he never wanted to speak to me again. Then he blocked my number and cut me off from his two kids. As much as that broke my heart, he was clear: no contact.
As much as it hurts, I’m respecting his boundary—even when others tell me not to.
Months later, I got an unexpected visit from his boss—a man I’ve known most of my life, since I used to babysit him and his sister. He told me that my son complains every day that I haven’t reached out. I explained that my son told me not to, and that I didn’t even have his new phone number. The boss said I needed to drive to his house, knock on the door, and talk to him face-to-face. But I refused. I told him if my son wants to talk, he knows where I live and how to find me. I will not cross a boundary he clearly set, even if I don’t agree with the reason behind it.
“He made it clear — do not contact him. So as much as it hurts, I’m respecting that.”
It’s been painful. I miss him, and I miss my grandkids terribly. But I’ve learned through experience that boundaries exist for a reason — even when they break your heart. My other son struggled with addiction too, and before he got sober, I had to learn the hard way that pushing contact doesn’t heal anything. My youngest is still in active addiction, and I know that makes things more volatile. Still, I can’t force him to talk or forgive. I can only hope that someday, he’ll come around.
“Loving an addict means loving from a distance sometimes — even when it tears you apart.”
So I told his boss thank you, but no. I won’t show up uninvited or ambush my son. If he wants me in his life, he’ll reach out when he’s ready. Until then, I’ll wait — but on my own terms.
🏠 The Aftermath
Since that visit, I haven’t heard from my son or his boss again. The house is quiet, but peaceful in its own way. I’ve been through this before — when my oldest cut me off during his addiction. He came back when he was ready. Maybe this one will too.
I spend my days trying not to dwell on what I can’t control. I love my sons, but love doesn’t mean ignoring their boundaries. It means trusting that space might help more than pressure ever could.
Even when others call me cold or stubborn, I know I’m doing the only thing that doesn’t make things worse.
Respect isn’t weakness — it’s choosing peace over panic.
Maybe one day he’ll see that I didn’t give up on him — I just stopped chasing him.
💭 Emotional Reflection
Addiction changes people — and it breaks families in ways outsiders can’t understand. But enforcing boundaries isn’t cruelty; it’s survival. For years I tried to “fix” things by chasing my sons, calling, showing up, begging. All it ever did was push them farther away. This time, I’m choosing quiet love instead of desperate noise.
His boss meant well. But sometimes people who haven’t lived through this kind of pain think a knock on the door will solve everything. It won’t. Not with an addict, not with an adult child who’s hurting.
Maybe one day he’ll realize that my silence wasn’t rejection — it was respect.
Readers had strong reactions to this post:
NTA. You’re honoring his wishes — that’s what boundaries are for. It’s not your job to chase him.
You’ve done this before, and you know forcing contact doesn’t heal. He’ll reach out when he’s ready.
People underestimate how hard it is to love an addict. Respecting space is one of the hardest kinds of love there is.
Most agreed: she wasn’t being heartless — she was being healthy. Setting a boundary with someone who’s struggling isn’t rejection; it’s self-preservation and compassion.
🌱 Final Thoughts
Sometimes love means letting go without closing the door. You can’t force someone to heal, but you can choose not to hurt yourself trying to make them.
Respecting boundaries is a form of love — even when the silence feels unbearable.
What do you think?
Was she right to stand her ground, or should she have reached out anyway? Share your thoughts below 👇
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