That’s not to say that any of this was easy. I desperately missed my dad – the version of him I’d known and loved my whole life. I cried every birthday. I agonised over who would walk me down the aisle if I ever got married. I felt a stab of jealousy, wondering if my dad would drive his girlfriend’s daughter to her friend’s house – then sit in a nearby coffee shop reading until she was ready to leave, like he used to do when I was younger. But by freezing time, I was able to cling to happier memories like a life raft when I needed them, rather than be angry and fearful all the time.

During those 12 years, I only contacted him once – when my mum was diagnosed with stage four cancer. I’m not sure what I expected. The hospital had encouraged me to do so as the prognosis looked bleak at the time, and maybe deep down a part of me really wanted my dad to be the one to reassure me that everything was going to be OK. For a while, he sent emails with words of support, but then other family obligations got in the way. You could say that was the moment I grew up and realised I was strong enough to stand on my own feet.

How it stopped our relationship becoming toxic

Ultimately, I just couldn’t reconcile myself to my dad’s choices. I know that, had I tried to squeeze myself into the spaces in his new life, all those feelings would have come to a head at some point, and the relationship wouldn’t have been salvageable.

“The difficulty with parent-child interactions is that there often isn’t any space for breath or reflection,” says Jordan Vyas-Lee, psychotherapist and co-founder of the Kove clinic. “Once any relationship has become toxic, neither party is able to empathise, forgive or shift for the benefit of the other. It’s the reason that relationships break down.

“Getting out of a relationship is, at this stage, often the only way forward,” he continues. “Time and space can allow for personal growth and new perspectives on the issues of old, so parent and child may be able to look more logically and empathically at each other.”

There is also a healthy way to approach setting boundaries. “Our relationships are governed by innate, emotional parts of the brain so setting a break can be very emotive,” Jordan says. “Try to use neutral language in communicating a new boundary and give a clear reason for a break in a relationship that doesn’t cast blame. You might cite the need to gain personal space or some time to reflect. As hard as it might be, try to indicate to the other person that there isn’t an irreconcilable rejection taking place that will last forever.”

While I didn’t completely reconcile with my father, I did eventually re-establish regular contact with him and I take comfort from the fact that I was able to be there for him when it mattered most. I was the one who sat my dad down and gently told him that the doctors had diagnosed him with terminal cancer, holding his hand as we sobbed together. I used all my annual leave on trips to Rome, where we’d sit in the hospice reminiscing about the time before he moved there – all memories I’d treasured over the years. It helped to heal something in both of us.