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‘Ghosting’ is an all-too familiar part of today’s dating landscape, usually referring to the person you’re dating cutting off all communication, ending the relationship without any explanation. Complete radio silence after several dates, or even when you're in a committed relationship, can be confusing, hurtful and leave you questioning everything you thought you knew.

But what happens when it isn’t a prospective love interest you’ve been ‘ghosted’ by, but your parent? Listener Hannah has shared her story with Woman’s Hour, after being ghosted by her mother. It’s been seven years since she last heard from her, something she calls “the ultimate rejection”. Here, she tells us how her mum disappeared from her life, without an explanation…

I have a twin brother and we were always told, as a kind of mantra in the house, ‘If you have children, I’ll disown you.’ It was said so frequently that I didn’t think it was particularly odd, which I appreciate in retrospect was bizarre. It was when I was pregnant that she refused to give me her new phone number, so (communication) reduced down to Skype calls and emails. Then, it was the birth of my first child, I sent her an email to say, ‘I’ve had a child’ - you know, a grandchild. I was looking for a bit of maternal support I guess, which was a bit misplaced, and she just never ever responded. And that was it.

I felt it was a poor reflection on me because there are implications when your mother ghosts you. Like when people take medical health questionnaires and they ask about your mother, or people say, ‘Are the kids going to their grandparents for Christmas?’. I never know what to say.

I can’t offer an explanation, because it’s as confusing to me as it is to you. We were told children were a burden. We were told we’d ruined her life, and so, the status quo in the household was just ‘my children won’t have children’. That’s just the way it was.

I passed my 11+ to get into a grammar school to try and make her proud, I went to university to try and make her proud, I joined the RAF as an officer to try and make her proud. I married a really nice guy - he’s ever so handsome, he’s 6’2, he’s an airline pilot, he’s wonderful. I tried everything! There was just no moving that woman from apathy towards us. It’s the same with my twin brother, and I think that’s why I’ve been able to get through it – he’s been through the exact same experience. He’s very successful, he’s got two wonderful children. I think that it is the ultimate rejection, and you get through it as best you can

The maternal narrative is that they [mothers] love you unconditionally. I have two boys now and I do love them unconditionally, thank goodness. The only positive I can draw from it, really, is that I’ve sort of been through the worst.
She was the nastiest to me. [My dad] was more passive in the relationship, but they’re still together, and I believe they’re still alive.
I’m not sure what mechanism there would be in place for informing me really. I’ve googled the local crematorium to see if they’re deceased or not – they didn’t live particularly healthy lives - but I haven’t seen their names. So, I’m not 100% sure if they’re alive or dead.

I had a bit of therapy which helped and I think that’s fairly crucial. It was really, really hard because my motivation for everything was to make this woman proud. This woman who really didn’t show me much love at all, and so, I think that it’s super hard to move on from.
My husband actually had to go to their house about 4 years ago, the last known address, to pick up things like GCSE certificates, my RAF commission scroll, just things they had, and they were there, they were alive. They didn’t ask after me. He got the items, covered in mould, but recoverable, and left. It was very bizarre.

They’re three and six, so they’re starting to realise. I try not to burden them because it’s not their issue, it’s certainly not their fault. And so I’ve been honest and I’ve said that ‘Grandma and Grandpa aren’t very nice people and we probably won’t see them’. And for now that’s been enough, but I know the questions will come. I’m just going to try and be as honest as I can.

I’m not to blame, I did really love you and I really tried. It’s not my fault. I’m a good person, and honestly, don’t get in touch. I’ve been through my bereavement, I’m happy now and it’s in the past.
The way to clear that stigma is to talk about it. So selfishly, it’s helped me a lot to talk about it. I’m not ashamed anymore.What would I want her to know?

Listen to Hannah tell her story on Woman’s Hour, or catch up with all the episodes you may have missed on Â鶹ԼÅÄ Sounds. Follow us on and to join the conversation.