I sympathise with Brooklyn Beckham… I cut off all contact with my mum and this is why I STILL don’t regret it: KATE WILLS

Like many people, I’ve been gripped by rumours of a feud in the Beckham clan. Did Brooklyn, 26, really snub all four of his father David’s 50th birthday celebrations? Do his wife Nicola Peltz and his mother Victoria really hate each other?

But unlike most armchair psychologists scrolling social media for clues, I can personally empathise with what Brooklyn is reported to be experiencing – because I too know the pain of family estrangement. But I also know that, given time and the right circumstances, even the deepest of rifts can be healed.

I had a strained relationship with my mother for decades and, in 2018, I cut off all contact with her. We didn’t see or speak to each other for the next six years. She didn’t meet my partner Guy or our daughter Blake and she didn’t even know where I lived.

At one point I thought I might never see her again. And yet last year we re-established contact and she’s now back as a part of my life.

Leo Tolstoy famously wrote ‘all happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way’, and I think estrangement falls somewhere in between.

So although my situation is completely different to Brooklyn’s, I do think there’s a commonality of experience that everyone who has made the painful choice to cut off a family member shares.

Until recently, I used to avoid talking about my mum and would gloss over our lack of relationship to anyone who asked.

But a host of celebrities have been opening up about the pain of estrangement from a parent, from Harry and Meghan to singer Adele and actresses Angelina Jolie and Heather Graham.

Even 1980s popstar Matt Goss has revealed that he is ‘completely estranged’ from his twin and former Bros bandmate Luke.

Family estrangement – defined as a relationship in which the majority of or all communication has stopped – is more common than you might think. In Britain, research by the charity Stand Alone has found that at least one in five families are affected by estrangement, suggesting around 12 million people in the UK are touched by this issue.

So, why was I estranged from my mother?

Here’s the short version: after my parents’ divorce when I was 11, my mum left when I was 15 to live with her new partner. I felt abandoned right before my GCSEs and had to go and live with my dad. Although my mother and I stayed in touch for many years after this, the relationship was always strained; with long periods of not speaking. I would often wonder why I didn’t feel the love my friends had for their mothers, and presumed there must be something wrong with me.

Eventually, at 34, having gone through my own divorce and many years of therapy, I realised I had the power to decide who I did and didn’t want in my life. I made the choice to cut off all contact with her. I felt like she was adding nothing good or beneficial to my life.

Although it was a hugely difficult decision, it also felt very empowering and positive. But many people didn’t understand.

Just as Brooklyn and Nicola have received comments on social media such as ‘you will regret your actions… for the rest of your life’ and ‘you should both be ashamed’, I had many friends and strangers question my decision and tell me I’d live to regret it one day.

Despite blocking her number, my mother still tried to contact me during this time.

Just as David has posted declarations of love for Brooklyn on social media recently and tagged him in various posts, my mother sent me cards and letters – delivered by my sister because she didn’t have my address.

Sometimes I’d read them and feel sad and other times I’d put them straight in the bin, depending on how strong I felt that day.

Ultimately, I felt she hadn’t changed and wouldn’t, and I thought I’d come to terms with having no mother in my life.

Yet there was always a nagging question in my mind about whether I was doing the right thing. I thought about her often, and at times it felt like more energy and effort to be estranged from her than it would be to have a very basic relationship with her.

I also felt guilty that I was depriving my daughter of a grandmother. Was it selfish of me to stop someone who would love to see Blake from doing so?

In fact, becoming a mother myself and watching my daughter, now four, grow up also led me to have more empathy for my mum and her choices.

I realised how hard bringing up a child can be and although you do the best you can with the resources you have, no one is a perfect parent.

The passing of time and lots of therapy also removed some of the pain and anger I felt about my less than idyllic childhood.

As I’ve got older I’ve gained perspective on events which at the time seemed unforgivable. As I started to feel more at peace with my past, that I could move beyond it, I wondered about getting in touch with my mum again.

But I felt almost lost as to how to actually reconnect. It felt somehow silly to just text her after six years and suggest meeting for a coffee. The months rolled by and we remained estranged.

And we might have drifted on like that for many more years had my father not died in September 2024.

Although I had often thought about how I’d feel if my mother passed away without us reconciling, the death of a parent is always a very abstract concept until you actually go through it. With my father’s passing I realised the true finality of death and just how finite and precious the time we all have left is.

While writing my father’s eulogy, I sent an email to my mum to check some details with her. We began corresponding over email and talked about the fact we would be meeting at the funeral. Obviously it was a hugely emotional day, and even just seeing my mother’s face again after so long made me instantly burst into tears. We didn’t get much time to talk at the crematorium or the wake, but after it was all over she emailed and asked if I’d like to meet.

So one grey rainy day, I set off to meet her at the cafe at London’s Tate Modern.

Although to anyone watching we looked like any other mother and daughter having a catch-up, it was incredibly poignant. Some moments were indelibly sad, such as when my mother said: ‘I hear you’ve had a daughter’.

The enormity of everything she’d missed out on was almost unbearable.

That was the beginning of a tentative journey to rebuild our relationship. Neither of us apologised or rehashed the past; it felt like we were starting from the present with a clean slate.

We took things very slowly, but there were still bumps and missteps. We had arranged to see each other over Christmas, and for her to meet my daughter for the first time, but my mum cancelled the day before because she was ill.

This triggered lots of memories for me of being let down by her when I was a child, and I was crushed with disappointment.

But I put my pride aside, and we managed to rearrange another date. It was touching to see her with Blake and to see how much effort she made.

Blake called her ‘Kate’s Mum’ because she’d overheard her dad calling her that, and I imagine it will take some time for her to think of her as Grandma.

Since then we have seen each other twice more, and we have even been to her house for lunch. Guy first met her at Dad’s funeral and we’ve also visited her as a family. Seeing the pictures I remember growing up with on the wall of a strange new house, was a disconcerting experience.

I have no idea what the reasons could be behind Brooklyn seemingly not wanting to see his family right now, but I do know that estrangement always has deep roots. 

However, even when a relationship seems irreparably damaged, there is a way back if you want it. According to an Ohio State University study, most adults who are estranged from parents eventually resume contact with their families, so there’s hope for the Beckhams yet.

Sometimes, I wish we could have reconciled sooner and that I’d just sent her a message when I had thoughts of getting back in touch. It feels like we missed out on so many important moments in each other’s lives through a kind of passive neglect.

But I also feel like we needed that space from each other.

Strangely, I think that having that separation from my mum allowed me to process our relationship dynamic and actually helped us to reconnect.

I’m currently five months’ pregnant with my second child and I do feel a little nervous about having my mum in my life during this time. It was such a precious and amazing experience for me having Blake during lockdown as Guy and I were really able to live in a ‘baby bubble’ with no stress or interference.

So this time around it’s important to me to keep my boundaries in place, and I hope my mum respects that. Because I’ve had such a long time without my mother in my life I’ve become good at looking after myself and building a support network of people around me.

It will be difficult to suddenly trust and depend on my mum when I’m feeling vulnerable after the birth. We are a long way from having her come and stay or anything like that.

But equally, I’m sure we will find it useful to have the extra support on hand, particularly as, this time, we will be juggling a newborn and a four-year-old.

It feels like uncharted territory, but I’m approaching it very much the way I always do – one step at a time and checking in with myself regularly to see how I feel.

Brooklyn and Victoria and David Beckham, should take heart perhaps in my story, sad though it is.

I doubt I would feel this good about having my mum in my life now if we hadn’t had that break in contact.

Sometimes, it’s easier to find ways to move forward with a difficult relationship when you’re not actively in that relationship. Like cutting back a plant, it feels like we had to sever our ties to allow something new to grow.