AITA for refusing a family vacation unless my daughter's bully is disinvited?

Our family takes the same two-week holiday every year, but I told my sister we’re not going unless Jeff — the teen who’s been tormenting my 15-year-old daughter — is disinvited, and now the whole family is falling apart.

I (43M) am a divorced, single parent to a 15-year-old daughter who’s into anime, video games, and Star Wars. We’re very close as a family—siblings, their partners and kids, and our parents—who take a two-week trip every year and get back before Christmas. My daughter has been bullied at school for years, and one boy in particular — Jeff (about 16, my nephew’s friend) — has repeatedly escalated from name-calling to hair-pulling, ripping clothes, destroying her belongings, and even getting into a fight that resulted in suspensions when he dumped her backpack in a toilet. We’ve involved the school and had meetings with his parents, but the behavior continued.

I’m a dad who won’t put my kid back in the same house as the teen who’s been attacking her—so I told my sister I’ll only go on the trip if Jeff is not invited, and that ultimatum has split the family.

When my sister mentioned buying Jeff a winter coat to take on the trip, I lost my cool. I told her, without thinking, that we weren’t going—and after she begged about tradition I stood firm: I’d pay my share but we would not go if Jeff was going. Later I clarified that I would attend only if they disinvited Jeff. --- CUT HERE ---

"When I realized he was going on the trip, I actually almost lost it."

We’re generally well off and grew up in a stable, attentive family, which made it obvious to me how different Jeff’s home life is—his parents have been emotionally unavailable in meetings and at times blamed my daughter. I don’t excuse what happened to him, but I can’t justify putting my kid in a house with someone who has repeatedly attacked her. My sister offered excuses—divorced parents, a rough home, maybe he has a crush—but when I reminded her of the physical incidents and the suspension, she still wanted him there for a "break" from his home life. I refused.

"I’ll go if they disinvite Jeff."

After I left the conversation, the situation blew up. My family is divided, my parents are pleading with me to come, and my phone won’t stop with texts. My daughter told me she won’t go if Jeff is going and experienced a full panic attack when we discussed it. I’m trying to balance protecting her safety and not forfeiting family time, but the ultimatum has created real fallout.

🏠 The Aftermath

Right now, plans are up in the air. The trip is threatened because I refuse to put my daughter back into a situation where she could be physically harmed or retraumatized, and my family is pressuring me to relent for the sake of tradition.

At home: my daughter is anxious and flatly refuses to attend if Jeff is present. Within the family: parents and siblings are split—some urging reconciliation and others understanding the safety concern. My sister feels backed into a corner because Jeff supposedly needs a safe place for a break, while I see that as asking my daughter to tolerate more harm.

Consequences include strained relationships, heated texts and calls, and a real possibility of missing the annual vacation. It’s now less about the trip and more about whose responsibility the kids’ safety is when the adults knew about the pattern of abuse.

"She had a full blown panic attack over it."

I’m relieved to be standing up for my daughter’s wellbeing, but this has also shown how quickly longstanding family rituals can collapse when a child’s safety is at stake.

💭 Emotional Reflection

This isn’t simply about being difficult—it's about the collision of a parent's duty to protect their child and a family's desire to keep traditions. My stance came from repeated, documented harm to my daughter and a lack of accountability from Jeff’s caregivers.

Could I have handled it differently? Possibly—there might have been room to negotiate stricter boundaries, separate sleeping arrangements, or supervised time. But given the history of physical attacks and the school disciplinary record, I felt an absolute line was necessary to prevent more harm.

Reasonable people will disagree: some will say I should prioritize family unity and give Jeff a chance, while others will argue my primary responsibility is my daughter’s physical and mental safety. Both perspectives touch on compassion, accountability, and who bears responsibility when children harm each other.

Here’s how the community might see it:

“You’re responsible for your kid’s safety—if past behavior shows a real risk, you were right to refuse to put her in harm’s way.”

“I understand protecting your child, but outright disinviting a teen for a chance at normalcy feels harsh—could there have been a middle ground?”

“Setting an ultimatum without offering solutions (supervision, separate rooms, no contact) escalated things—communication and boundaries might’ve avoided this.”

Reactions split between prioritizing the teen’s immediate safety and trying to preserve family tradition, with recurring themes of communication failures, accountability for the bully, and the limits of compassion when safety is at stake.

🌱 Final Thoughts

When a child has been harmed repeatedly, protecting them can require hard choices that upset everyone else. I chose my daughter’s wellbeing over an annual trip, and that decision revealed deeper problems in how the family responds to harm and accountability.

I don’t relish the fallout, but I also don’t want to minimize what my daughter has endured. This is less about punishment and more about not forcing a child into a situation that retraumatizes her.

What do you think?
Would you have accepted the family’s pressure to keep the peace, or refused and risked splitting the family to protect your child? Share your thoughts below 👇