I’ve always felt like an outsider in my own family. My mother adored my sisters, but I was treated like a burden because I looked too much like the man she wished to forget. When I discovered the truth about my real father, everything changed—but not as she expected.
Growing up with two older sisters, Kira and Alexa, I saw how our mother loved them, buying them new clothes, taking them for ice cream, and showering them with affection. I got their hand-me-downs and was given orders: “Olivia, clean the kitchen.” I was invisible, nothing more than a servant.
My father tried to protect me, but as I grew older, he withdrew. The arguments between my parents grew worse, and by fourteen, I couldn’t take it anymore. I bought a DNA test, and the results shattered everything.
When my father found the test, he was furious. My mother had cheated on him. He left, filing for divorce and cutting ties with us, except for Alexa. My mother blamed me, calling me the cause of the family’s downfall. She treated me like a slave, while Kira remained her golden child.
Eventually, I moved out and started working. But my mother and sisters didn’t leave me alone—they always wanted money. I demanded to know my biological father’s name in exchange for more, and after a long journey, I met Rick, my real father. He had tried to contact me, but my mother lied to both of us.
Rick welcomed me with open arms, and we started building a relationship. He even gave me a house to make up for lost years. Finally, I knew what love felt like.
One day, I ran into Kira and mentioned the house. She was jealous, and not long after, my mother and Kira moved into my house without asking. I stood up for myself and kicked them out, cutting them out of my life completely.
For the first time, I felt free. My real family—the one that cared—was with me.
Leave a Reply