So, I (31F) believe I’m the asshole for not reaching out to my cousin in two or three years. But here’s the backstory.

My cousin—let’s call her Kay—and I were always very close. Like, when she was born, I was literally in the hospital. We’re six weeks apart and did almost everything together growing up. I didn’t have any siblings until I was 11, so my cousins were the closest thing I had—and Kay was the closest of all of them.

Kay and her family.. let's call them “the unit”—my aunt, uncle, and their three kids. They were the central hub of the family. Every major event—holidays, birthdays, Mother’s Day—was always at their house. But our family has had multiple falling-outs over the years, and usually it was a split between “the unit” and the rest of us—me, my mom, my brother, my grandma, another aunt, and her daughter.

The first major fallout happened when one of the kids in “the unit” had a baby. I can’t remember if it was the shower or the first birthday, but here’s what mattered—my mom wasn’t invited, and my dad was. This is my mom’s side of the family. My dad and uncle had remained close even after my parents divorced, which always irritated my mom. I honestly didn’t care—I liked that it meant I could still go over and see everyone. But when my mom got excluded from this event while my dad didn’t, it opened up old wounds and caused big rift. I don’t know all the details—I was still young—but the result was stretch of silence between family members.

Despite that, Kay and I stayed close. We always kind of ignored the drama and did our own thing. Our relationship had ups and downs, but we always found our way back to each other.

When I got pregnant at 19, Kay was the first person I told. She helped me tell my grandma, who helped me tell my mom—who then kicked me out. She still swears she didn’t, but… she did. And during that time, Kay and “the unit” were incredibly supportive. That was one of the times we grew close again.

Fast forward a bit—another family fallout. And this one was just… ridiculous. My mom and her boyfriend broke up under pretty terrible circumstances. I didn’t think it needed to involve anyone else, but my grandma was deeply offended that my uncle (Kay’s dad) didn’t reach out to say anything supportive. I personally didn’t think it was a big deal. But my grandma felt otherwise—and she ended up going to their house and cussing out my aunt and uncle.

That was the match that lit the fire. This split was deeper, and so far, irreversible.

They were understandably upset and pulled away from the rest of the family. My grandma later apologized, but it didn’t change anything. From that point on, nobody from “outside the unit” was really welcome over there anymore—except me, because of my relationship with them and with Kay. But even then, the dynamic had shifted. Everything felt… fractured. The glue that held things together was gone.

At the time, Kay and I even talked about how we wouldn’t let it affect us—just like last time. And for a while, we were good. But I think what happened next changed everything.

In 2019, I was in a relationship that was emotionally abusive. He never hit me, but he controlled every aspect of my life. He would wake me up in the middle of the night to fight about some guy he thought I looked at. He wouldn’t let me go to work alone—even though we both had our own cars. He insisted on picking me up, dropping me off, eating lunch with me at work. I wasn’t even allowed to shower alone. Just full-on control.

That relationship ended with him taking his own life—and making sure I witnessed it. I ended up in the hospital after trying to take mine too.

Around that same time, Kay got engaged. I was genuinely happy for her, despite everything I was going through. She asked me to be her maid of honor, and I accepted, but I wasn’t in any kind of place mentally or emotionally to show up the way she deserved. And this was also during early COVID, so everything was up in the air anyway. Eventually, I was demoted from maid of honor to bridesmaid, which I understood. But I think that marked the beginning of the end for us.

A little while later, I went back to the place where my ex had taken his life, and I tried again to end mine. I ended up on a 14-day psychiatric hold. While I was there, Kay called me on one of those payphones they have for inbound and outbound calls. I barely remember the conversation. It was awkward. But what stuck with me was one thing I said: “I don’t want to be here again.” Her response? “Then why did you do it?”

That hit me hard. I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to die. And hearing her say that made it really clear to me that she didn’t understand. That’s when I think something in our relationship really broke.

I’ve struggled with trauma since I was two. I’ve always been emotional, anxious, depressed. I never felt like that side of the family really understood that part of me—or even tried to. I don’t blame them. But it’s something I’ve always carried quietly.

Time passed. I found out she was pregnant. I wanted to be there for her like she was for me, but we weren’t close anymore. I don’t know what shifted on her side, but this is what shifted on mine. I went to her baby shower, and it was… off. (I was the only one invited) The family didn’t feel like family anymore. I tried to act normal, but the energy was different.

The last time we had any real interaction was when she invited me to her baby’s first birthday. I planned on going. I requested the day off work in advance—because as a server/bartender, it’s hard to get coverage last minute. But then the venue flooded, and they rescheduled the party. I couldn’t switch my shift. No one could cover me. So I didn’t go. I think she was upset, but I was never told directly.

After that, we stopped talking. We used to text each other happy birthday every year. When we were younger, it had to be at midnight. As we got older, it was more casual, but we always did it. After the birthday party situation, she stopped texting me on my birthday. I still texted her on hers. It was short—“Happy birthday, miss you, love you”—and she replied the same. But the next year, nothing. From either of us. And we haven’t talked since.

I haven’t met her baby. And just recently, I saw a TikTok from a relative at her second baby shower. She’s pregnant again. And I didn’t even know. No one told me. That, to me, says I’m no longer part of the family.

And to be honest, I think that’s what hurts the most. Not just that I’ve lost my cousin, but that it’s all tangled up in a mess I didn’t create.

I’m fully aware that my mom and grandma are the root cause of a lot of this mess. I don’t deny that. But I also don’t feel like that excuses how distant things have become between me and Kay. Because even if the family fell apart, we didn’t have to.

So… AITA for not reaching out?