When I was ten, my mom passed away from cancer, leaving me with a trust fund for my future. After she died, my dad remarried, and things changed. He started using the fund for his stepdaughter, Emily, instead of me. I didn’t mind at first, but soon the withdrawals became too much. My dad used the money for things that had nothing to do with me—Emily’s pageants, a new car, and even home repairs.
By the time I graduated college, most of the money was gone. My dad had promised to save it for me, but instead, he drained it for Emily’s needs. When my graduation coincided with Emily’s pageant, my dad chose her again, and I had enough. I confronted him, demanding he pay back every penny. He tried to brush me off, but I threatened legal action.
Eventually, the money was returned. I moved in with my grandparents, where I found warmth and safety. With the repaid money, I enrolled in grad school and finally got my own place. One night, unpacking, I found a photo of my mom. I whispered, “I kept my promise. I didn’t let them dim my light.”
For the first time in years, I felt free.
Leave a Reply