Two Dear Abby letters capture how betrayal and silence can hollow out family ties. One sister is stuck replaying a years-old sexual betrayal with no apology. Another is frozen out after calling out weekly phone-call interruptions, and months have passed withou
A pair of letters to Dear Abby land with the kind of emotional weight families recognize immediately: the hurt that doesn’t fade, and the silence that stretches until it becomes its own punishment.
The first letter comes from a woman in North Carolina who says she learned at 16 that her sister. “Daisy. ” was in a sexual relationship with her boyfriend. “Tyler. ” when they were both 18. She ended the relationship with Tyler. Daisy. the writer recalls. then asked if she minded Daisy dating him. even though “He and I hadn’t.” Tyler and the writer stayed friends through the years. and the writer says he was her first love. That episode, she writes, shaped her dating relationships for years and took her time “to learn to trust again.”.
When she finally asked Daisy why she’d done it, she says Daisy’s response was that she could. Now. the writer says she and Daisy enjoy each other’s company as long as she doesn’t “let the past into my consciousness.” She wants to move on. but the pain is still there—especially because Daisy “never once offered an indication of an apology.”.
In Abby’s reply, she points directly at the absence of accountability. “Daisy and Tyler both betrayed you. ” the column writes. adding that the writer’s sister may enjoy the relationship the writer described. but “do not think that the core of her — her character — has changed.” Abby also emphasizes that Daisy’s lack of apology and the writer’s description of Daisy’s “flip” response should be treated as a warning about how selfish and insensitive she is “to this day.”.
The second letter reads like a family routine that suddenly turned into a dead line. The writer says she doesn’t live in the same state as her sister. so they used to call at the same time each week to catch up. Their calls were set against the rhythms of work: when her sister’s husband. “Dale. ” was usually at work. the sister would take the call.
Then Dale got a new job, the writer says, and he is now home whenever she calls. The problem, she writes, is that Dale will enter the room and talk to his wife while she is on the phone. The sister answers him immediately, even if the caller is “in the middle of a sentence.”
The writer tried to address it without making it personal. She told her sister it would probably be better if she called when she was free to talk. She did not, she adds, specifically say anything about Dale’s interruptions. Her sister’s response was curt: she said. “Fine!” And the writer says that was the last time she heard from her—more than five months ago.
She doesn’t believe reaching out would change anything. If she brings up how annoying it is to have Dale interrupt the calls. she expects her sister will get angry and defend him. She says she loves her sister and misses talking to her. and asks whether she should resign herself to never hearing from her again.
Abby’s answer is blunt and focused on action rather than blame. She tells the writer to call her sister and apologize for letting the silence go on so long. Abby’s position is that the issue isn’t solved by tallying rudeness; it’s solved by communicating again.
From there, Abby suggests a practical compromise tied to Dale’s predictable schedule now. She writes that instead of putting all responsibility on the sister. the caller should ask her sister to suggest a time for the weekly call when she knows Dale won’t be around. If that isn’t possible. Abby says the writer will have to decide whether the interruptions are annoying enough to lose a sister over.
Across both letters. the emotional center is the same: what lingers is not just the original wound. but the absence of an apology—or the inability to reconnect once communication breaks down. In one case, trust was shattered and never repaired. In the other, a weekly ritual ended with a single “Fine!” and then nothing for months. Both writers are left asking the same question in different forms: how do you stop the past—or the silence—from running your life?.
Dear Abby sister betrayal apology family communication phone call conflict North Carolina letter