After my painful divorce from Roger two years ago, I thought the worst was behind me. Roger and I had been married for 15 years and shared two wonderful daughters, Veronica, now 14, and Casey, 12. The divorce wasn’t easy, but I gained custody while Roger had weekend visits. I believed I could finally start over. Little did I know that the journey would be much more complicated than I ever expected.

When I decided it was time to move on and find love again, I thought it would not only be good for me but also for my daughters. They deserved a father figure in their lives, someone who could fill the void left by Roger. But every time I brought a new boyfriend home to meet my girls, he’d vanish soon after. It was as if introducing them was some kind of curse.

My most recent boyfriend, David, seemed perfect. He was kind, patient, and understanding. But the night I introduced him to my daughters over dinner, he abruptly left mid-meal. One moment, we were all making small talk, and the next, he was standing up, pale as a ghost, excusing himself.

“David, is everything okay?” I asked, my heart sinking.

Without even looking back, he muttered something under his breath, grabbed his coat, and was out the door before I could get an answer. Veronica and Casey sat there silently, not even trying to hide their indifference.

“What happened, girls?” I asked, my voice cracking with confusion. But they simply shrugged, keeping their eyes glued to their plates. That night, despite my attempts to call David, all I received was a cold text the next morning: “It’s over, Melinda. I can’t marry into this. Goodbye.”

It felt like my heart was breaking all over again. This wasn’t the first time a man had run for the hills after meeting my daughters. Before David, there was Shawn, and before him, Victor. Each time, they met my daughters, and shortly after, they were gone without a word of explanation.

Determined to get to the bottom of it, I turned to my close friend and coworker, Jose. “Jose, it’s like every guy disappears after meeting my daughters. I just don’t get it,” I confided in him, fighting back tears.

Jose tried to laugh it off at first, but I insisted he help me figure out what was going on. So, we came up with a plan. A few weeks later, I brought Jose over for dinner, pretending he was my new boyfriend. The moment I introduced him to Veronica and Casey, their welcoming smiles vanished.

@abbymedcalfphd If your kids are having difficulty getting used to your new partner, focus on the pace. #datingafterdivorce #stepparenting #divorcedparents #parenting ♬ original sound – Dr. Abby Medcalf

“Why don’t you talk to the girls while I finish up in the kitchen?” I suggested, leaving him alone with them at the dining table. My heart was racing as I waited in the kitchen, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation.

When I returned to the table, Jose looked uncomfortable, gripping his fork so tightly his knuckles were white. He barely made it through dinner before making a hasty exit. That night, I called him, demanding answers.

“Jose, what happened? What did they say to you?” I asked, desperate for clarity.

“Melinda, we need to talk in person,” he replied, sounding uneasy. The next morning, before work, we met up, and he revealed everything.

“Your daughters told me you’re terrible at cooking and cleaning. They claimed you’re a shopaholic and even said you’ve brought home seven men just this week,” Jose confessed. “They think you and Roger will get back together, and they’re trying to scare off anyone who gets close to you.”

I was stunned, unable to hold back the tears. “I can’t believe they would do this,” I whispered, my heart aching.

That evening, I confronted my daughters. “Girls, we need to talk. Now,” I said firmly, trying to keep my emotions in check. Veronica and Casey exchanged nervous glances but sat down to listen.

“I know what you’ve been doing. You’ve been lying to my boyfriends to chase them away. Why?” I demanded.

At first, they denied everything. But after a few minutes of silence and some stern words, they broke down. “Mom, we just want you and Dad to get back together. We miss how things used to be,” Veronica admitted, tears rolling down her cheeks. Casey nodded, looking guilty.

I pulled them into a hug, my own tears streaming. “I understand that you miss how things were, but you can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to me or to the men I’ve tried to bring into our lives. We have to move forward, not live in the past,” I told them gently.

“But Mom,” Casey asked, her voice small, “is it really impossible to get back together with Dad?”

I sighed deeply, brushing her hair from her face. “I don’t know, sweetie. But what I do know is that we need to be honest with each other from now on. No more secrets or lies. Agreed?”

They nodded, and we stayed up late, talking through their feelings. I assured them that while it’s okay to miss the past, we all needed to focus on our future.

The conversation lingered in my mind, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what they had said. The next day, on impulse, I called Roger. “Hey, can we meet up? There are some things we need to discuss,” I said nervously.

To my surprise, Roger agreed, suggesting we meet at our old coffee shop. When I arrived, he was already there, looking as uncertain as I felt.

“The girls… they’ve been pushing away every man I’ve tried to date because they still believe we might get back together,” I blurted out.

Roger sighed, rubbing his temples. “I had no idea they were struggling this much,” he admitted. “Maybe we need to talk things through, for their sake.”

In the weeks that followed, Roger and I began attending counseling sessions, trying to see if there was anything left worth saving. It wasn’t easy, but for the sake of our daughters, we both decided to give it our best shot.

One evening, after a particularly emotional session, we sat in the car together, lost in thought. “Do you think this could actually work?” I asked him quietly.

“I’m not sure,” he replied, squeezing my hand gently. “But we owe it to the girls to at least try.”

As we continued working through our issues, our daughters seemed happier, and slowly, the tension in our family began to lift. We still had a long way to go, but for the first time in years, I felt hopeful.

Maybe, just maybe, we could turn the page and find a new beginning.