Family ConflictMoney & InheritanceParentingUnhinged

AITA for not letting my daughter come home after she ran off to her mom’s because I took her phone?

I (42M) have no idea if I handled this right or just made everything worse.

I keep thinking I could’ve said one thing differently — or not said anything at all — and maybe this wouldn’t have blown up the way it did. My wife says I’m just “enforcing boundaries,” but all I can hear in my head is my daughter saying “I don’t want to come back.”

For background: my daughter Kayla (14F) lives with me and my wife about 60% of the time. Her mom and I split custody after the divorce, and we’ve been doing the back-and-forth shuffle for years. It’s worked… kind of. Her mom, Lisa, is more permissive. I try to be consistent — not strict, just structured. I guess depending on who you ask, that translates to “control freak.”

Lately, things have been tense. Kayla’s always on her phone — like, won’t-look-up-from-the-screen level obsessed. We used to play Mario Kart together. Now she barely says a word at dinner. Just stares down at TikTok with that weird giggle kids do when they’re trying not to show you what they’re watching.

I tried talking to her. “Hey, can you put it away while we eat?”
She’d nod. Then 30 seconds later, she’s under the table, texting. Like I wouldn’t notice.

Then last week, I caught her on FaceTime at 2 a.m. with some 17-year-old boy she met at school. She had the lights off, whispering under the blanket. I freaked — probably too hard. I told her, “This is exactly why I said no phones in the bedroom overnight,” and took the phone.

She lost it. Screamed that I was “ruining her life,” that I “had no right,” that she “wasn’t doing anything wrong.” She slammed her door and didn’t come out the next day at all. Not for breakfast, not for school drop-off, nothing.

And Then She Just… Left

I came home the next day and the house was quiet. No music, no feet on the stairs, no “ugh” from her room. Her door was open, lights off. I called her name. Nothing.

Finally my wife says, “She’s at Lisa’s. I think she left after school. Took her backpack.”

I called Lisa. She picked up on the second ring like she knew it was coming.

“She’s not coming back until you apologize,” she said. Just like that.

“For what?” I asked.

Lisa goes, “For violating her trust. For treating her like a prisoner in her own home. You took her phone. That’s her social life, her community, her safety.”

I said something like, “It’s not a constitutional right, it’s a privilege, and she’s 14. There are rules.”

Lisa laughed — actually laughed — and said, “She said you called her disgusting.”

That stopped me cold.

“I said the situation felt inappropriate,” I told her. “Because it was 2 a.m. and I have no idea who this kid is.”

“Well, she heard ‘disgusting,’” Lisa said. “And she cried all night.”

I sat there staring at the wall after that. Because maybe I did say something close to that in the moment. I was so tired and frustrated I might’ve snapped harder than I remember. It’s all a blur now. But what if she really thought I was ashamed of her?

Still, I told Lisa, “She can’t just run away when she doesn’t like a consequence.” And Lisa said, “She didn’t run away. She left. For her mental health.”

And maybe this is where I screwed up. I said, “Then she can stay there. Until she’s ready to act like part of a family, not a tenant.”

I know. Harsh. I was angry. Hurt. Panicking but trying not to sound like it. And now it’s been six days.

Kayla hasn’t texted me. Not even a “you suck.” Just silence. I sent her one message last night:

“I love you. I’m sorry this got so big. I just want to talk.”

No reply. But I saw the “read” notification.

Her mom keeps texting me about “emotional safety” and “teen autonomy.” My wife keeps saying, “She’ll come around.” But I feel like I’m standing on a frozen lake, watching the cracks spread, and I can’t do anything to stop it.

I took a phone. That’s all. I took a phone from a kid who was up at 2 a.m. whispering to a high school junior. I didn’t hit her, I didn’t scream in her face. I just drew a line. Isn’t that what parents are supposed to do?

But now she’s gone. And I don’t know if I should hold the boundary, or if holding it means losing her completely.

So… AITA?

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