My daughter is 24 and currently lives in my house. She only pays for utilities — nothing else. I don’t live there with her. On top of that, I also pay for her phone and car insurance. A few years ago, I paid for her CNA classes because she expressed a strong interest in pursuing a career in nursing. She was excited then (and still says she is) about working her way up to becoming an LPN, and eventually an RN. I thought it would be a step-by-step journey — something she was truly invested in.
But lately, it feels like I’m the only one who’s actually trying to push her toward that future. She’s working as a CNA now but needs to take the TEAS test to move forward. She told me she doesn’t feel confident enough to take it yet. I offered to help by paying for a study guide and encouraged her to find a way to study. She got the materials. That part is done. But still — no action.
Now, there are even bigger issues. Her car, which I paid for and still insure, reeks of pot. She insists it’s because someone had a bag of it in there, but I’m not naïve. There’s a clear difference between weed being in the car and it actually being smoked in the car. The smell is unmistakable.
Meanwhile, my house — which she’s living in — is a mess. Completely trashed. She doesn’t make enough money to move out, and I don’t want to throw her onto the street. But I feel used. Frustrated. Lied to.
She has 50/50 custody of her son, and from what I can tell, she hasn’t smoked pot around him. But I’m worried. I don’t know how to help her anymore. I don’t know how to set boundaries that protect both of us.
I’m at my wits’ end.
First, take a deep breath. You’re not crazy, and you’re not alone. What you’re feeling — the frustration, the heartbreak, the sense that you’re being used — those feelings are real. And valid. You’ve been showing up for your daughter for years. You’ve been paying for her phone, her insurance, her education. You even gave her a place to live. That’s not small stuff. That’s the kind of love parents give because they want their kids to thrive.
But here’s the hard truth: you can’t want her future more than she does.
It doesn’t matter how much money you spend, how many study guides you buy, or how many opportunities you hand her. If she doesn’t want to step up, none of it will stick. That’s not a reflection of your effort. That’s about where she is in her life — and the choices she is making.
You’re dealing with two battles here: your desire to protect your daughter (and your grandson), and your growing awareness that your support might actually be enabling her. That’s a painful place to be. But it’s also where something can start to shift — if you’re willing to have the hard conversation.
And here’s what that conversation might sound like:
“I love you. I believe in you. And because I love you, I’m no longer going to participate in you slowly wrecking your life while I foot the bill. You’re an adult. A mom. And it’s time to start acting like it. I’m willing to support you emotionally and guide you, but I won’t continue paying for things while you make choices that are harmful to you and disrespectful to me.”
That’s not punishment. That’s boundaries. Boundaries are what love looks like when you’re done being manipulated.
You don’t have to kick her out tomorrow. But you do need to draw some clear lines — and mean them. Maybe it’s giving her a deadline to clean up the house. Maybe it’s canceling the insurance if she’s using the car irresponsibly. Maybe it’s requiring her to create and follow through on a plan for school or work. And if she chooses not to? That’s her choice. But your support, at that point, can’t continue as-is.
This is going to hurt. It’s not easy to stop rescuing the people we love. But enabling isn’t love — it’s fear dressed up as love.
And let me be clear: you’re a good parent. You’ve done so much already. But now it’s time to stop managing her life and start reclaiming yours.
You’ve got this.