AITA for telling my doc that I don’t want my mum to be involved in my healthcare?
A 24-year-old chronic pain patient who suffered severe medical malpractice is working hard to regain independence after multiple surgeries and a long recovery. While grateful for her mother’s early help, she now faces controlling behavior: threats to withhold pain medication, talk of guardianship whenever she makes choices her mother dislikes, and feeding false information to doctors (claiming she wanted amputation when she was simply expressing despair from pain).
After discovering her mother had lied to an orthopedic doctor, causing him to scream at her during an appointment, she firmly told the doctor not to share any medical information with her mother and to stop believing her reports. The doctor dismissed her request, insisting “you only have one mother” and that she was just trying to help. She wonders if she was wrong to set this boundary.

‘AITA for telling my doc that I don’t want my mum to be involved in my healthcare?’
The patient has endured years of trauma and is reclaiming control.




Threats and manipulation have become ongoing issues.






The doctor incident was the breaking point.





At 24, the patient is a legal adult with full rights to medical privacy and autonomy. Threatening to withhold prescribed pain medication, discussing guardianship as punishment, and spreading false information to doctors are serious forms of control and emotional abuse — especially toward someone already traumatized by medical malpractice and chronic pain. What makes the situation more complicated is the doctor’s dismissal of her clear, reasonable request for confidentiality, falling back on the “you only have one mother” platitude instead of upholding professional ethics and legal standards.
Doctors are bound by strict confidentiality rules (similar to HIPAA in the US or GDPR/equivalent patient rights laws in Europe). Sharing information with family without explicit consent is illegal unless the patient is incapacitated or has designated a proxy. The doctor’s behavior — shouting at a PTSD patient, believing unverified reports over the patient, and refusing to honor a privacy request — is unprofessional and potentially reportable.
Setting this boundary was not only appropriate but essential for safety and recovery. Chronic pain patients are especially vulnerable to coercion around medication; protecting her medical privacy is a critical act of self-advocacy. The guilt she feels is common in abusive dynamics, but it doesn’t make her request wrong.
See what others had to share with OP:
The community overwhelmingly declares the patient NTA, viewing her mother’s behavior as abusive and the doctor’s response as dangerously unprofessional.










Many urge immediate protective actions, including changing doctors, adding passwords to records, and considering legal steps.









A few voices focus on the seriousness of the doctor’s misconduct and the need to report it while reinforcing the poster’s right to privacy.






This story reveals a painful reality: when family concern crosses into control and coercion, especially toward someone with chronic illness and trauma, strong boundaries become essential for safety. The patient’s request for medical privacy was not only reasonable but necessary — and the doctor’s refusal to honor it is deeply concerning.
Have you ever had to set firm medical boundaries with family? How do you balance gratitude for past help with protecting your autonomy as an adult? If you’ve experienced similar controlling behavior around medication or treatment, how did you handle it? Share your thoughts below.
