**Personal Diary Entry**
I’m 62 years old, living in Manchester, and recently found myself in a situation that broke my heart. My daughter, Eleanor, and her husband, James, decided I ought to devote my life to looking after their child, my granddaughter Amelia. I’ve always tried to be a good grandmother, but now I’ve reached my limit. I refused to be their unpaid nanny, and it caused an uproar. I’m not a babysitter or a servant—I have the right to my own life too!
When Eleanor had Amelia, I rushed to help in any way I could. I looked after the baby, took her for walks, fed her, washed her clothes—anything to give my daughter a break. I know how hard it is to be a new mother, and I wanted to support my family. But over time, my help became expected, as if it were my duty. Eleanor and James started acting like I was their personal nanny. They signed up for gym memberships, went to evening classes, met friends, and dropped Amelia off with a casual, *”Watch her, we’ve got things to do.”* They never once considered if I had plans of my own. I’m retired, for goodness’ sake, and I’ve earned the right to rest and enjoy my time!
Eleanor would call me midday and demand I collect Amelia from nursery because she had a work function, while James was off fishing. I’d get angry, but still go—what else could I do? I adore Amelia, but the pressure was suffocating. I felt used, as if my time and desires didn’t matter to anyone.
Today was the final straw. Eleanor called cheerfully announcing their two-week holiday to Spain. I assumed they were taking Amelia—what a lovely trip for her! But no. They’d decided to leave her with me without even asking. They just assumed I’d drop everything. I snapped. I told Eleanor I wasn’t their nanny. If they wanted to travel, they needed to take Amelia or make other arrangements!
I asked why they’d made this decision without consulting me. Eleanor’s reply stunned me: *”You’re retired—it’s not like you have anything better to do.”* It felt like a slap. I told her I had plans—a long-awaited trip to the Lake District with my best friend. They could take Amelia or figure it out, but I wasn’t their servant!
The conversation ended in a row. Eleanor called me a terrible grandmother, while I fought back tears. She doesn’t understand how much it hurts after all I’ve done. I love Amelia, but I can’t sacrifice my whole life for their convenience. I’m not a nanny or a maid—I’m a woman who deserves happiness too. Now I’m torn: stand my ground, or give in to keep the peace. But one thing’s certain—this can’t go on any longer.
