I never liked my own family—call it dysfunctional if you may. But I still couldn’t fathom how my sister would betray me like this, twice, even though I helped her and our father out.
Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I was born into a better family. You know, with better parents who actually know how to be parents? But you don’t always get what you want in life, isn’t it?
I can’t really blame my mother actually—she ran away from the family when I was just ten, presumably since my father was abusive and manipulative. I still wish she took me and my sister away with her at that time, but then again, it is what it is. Sometimes there’s no use in looking back at things and constantly thinking about “what could’ve been.”
That’s what my therapist kept telling me. Don’t look back on the things you can’t change and think about what could’ve been. Look forward, time is linear, there’s no going back.
But she also said writing it out might help—so here it is, I guess.
I grew up in a dysfunctional family | Source: Shutterstock
As I said, my father was an abusive and manipulative monster—self-centered, arrogant … he only cared about himself and the things that actually concerned him. Sometimes I wonder how come my mother actually married him. That’s something I’d never find out, I guess.
As for my younger sister Cheryl, you can probably understand what kind of person she’d grow up to be under such circumstances. We were close when we were kids—at least before everything happened —but after my mother ran away, it had gotten worse since then.
My father never liked me since I was a kid, but he hated me even more after my mother ran away. Why? I have no idea. He probably thought I was the reason why she ran away—he never thought it was his fault.
Well, he blamed the stripper when he was drunk sometimes, but it takes two to tango, isn’t it? Or that it took two to have a lapdance, in this context.
Anyway. My sister Cheryl.
Cheryl and I used to be close when we were kids | Source: Pexels
Ever since mother left, Cheryl became dad’s favorite, presumably since she was still too young to understand what happened. Since I was too old to be converted into daddy’s little girl at that time, he focused on Cheryl instead.
That’s what I meant when I said things began to go downhill from there—he and Cheryl began to gang up on me, alienating me in the house. It wasn’t pleasant, and to be honest, I don’t really want to go into details about what happened. Let’s just say I wish I had a more functional family.
Cheryl grew up to be a spoiled brat. That’s the thing about my father. He might be an absolute jerk of a person, but he wasn’t stupid. In fact, he made himself a fortune by setting up a trading company. It made sense though since he had every single trait of being a psychopathic CEO.
Chery, being daddy’s little girl of the family, had everything she needed and wanted—and even things she didn’t know she wanted. I can still remember the Gucci bag my father gave her when she was just 12. Can you believe that? A 12-year-old girl holding a Gucci bag?
Needless to say, Cheryl grew up to be a dysfunctional human being.
I remember how I used to smell like fast food every night after work | Source: Pexels
As for myself, I had to work hard for everything that I had. Since I wasn’t getting any allowances from my father, I began taking up part-time jobs here and there just to get by. I worked in McDonald’s, Wendy’s, and even handed out leaflets outside Sears at some point. I can still remember how I used to smell like French fries after my shifts. You just cannot get rid of that stench.
In a way, I am thankful for the experience, since all of these things taught me things I needed to know in life. It made me who I am—it taught me how to be resilient and got me through some dark times.
I moved out as soon as I could. I remember I was 18 at the time—it was a long and hot summer, and I packed up my things and went off to California in my old Honda Civic without even saying goodbye. I probably had $400 in my account at the time, but it was liberating. I can still remember the sweet summer breeze of youth and freedom along the Pacific Coast.
I found myself an IT job in California | Source: Pexels
Fast forward 10 years from there, I got my college degree and began working for an IT company. I wouldn’t say I had a great career, but I managed to have a decent life and save some money of my own. To be honest, I wouldn’t stay in IT if not for the money. But hey, we all gotta make a living somehow.
It was then when I received an email from Cheryl. I hadn’t spoken to her nor my dad since the day I moved out, not that they cared anyway. They could’ve reached out to me somehow, but they did not. Ten years, not a single message from them.
But surprise surprise, Cheryl actually asked me for help in the email. How things have changed, I thought to myself.
It started with a bunch of formal addresses like “Dear Emma,” “I hope this email finds you well,” and my favorite—“Sincerely yours.”
I received an email from Cheryl while at work one day | Source: Pexels
She was asking me for money since her kid got sick and needed surgery, but her ex-boyfriend ran away with some chicks and left her with nothing. She said she hadn’t been talking to dad for a few years already due to some argument … bla bla bla. That was why she needed my help.
I was hesitant at first, but then I opened the attachment in the email—it was a picture of my nephew. He was adorable.
After looking at that picture, I debated on what I would do—or rather, the right thing for me to do. You see, I might not like my family, but the kid was innocent. He shouldn’t be pulled into the whole family feud that we had.
After a night of turning over and over again in my bed, I decided to wire her the money.
Cheryl didn’t respond to my emails after I wired her the money | Source: Pexels
The next month I sent her an email, asking her if everything was alright with the kid—alas, no response.
So I did a bit of research and found out where she lived. Well, as it turned out, she didn’t move far—basically six or seven blocks from where we used to live. I decided to drop by and give her a visit.
It had been more than ten years since I left—but that’s the thing about small American towns … scenery might change, but people don’t. I can still recognize the same shops and people I used to know. Older, but not necessarily wiser.
Then, as if God intervened through some twisted manner, before getting to Cheryl, I bumped into an old classmate of mine who happened to know my family cause you know, small town.
I bumped into John at a gas station—it was truly a strange coincidence | Source: Pexels
John was a classmate of mine back then. His mother and my father were neighbors growing up, so he was kind of a family friend. He was beyond surprised when he saw me at the gas station.
“Hey. Is that you, Emma?” he said as he approached me from his car.
“ …John? God, could barely recognize you there, man,” I said.
“What brought you back here? Haven’t seen you in years,” he continued. “Came here to see your old man?”
I assumed he didn’t know what happened to my family all these years.
“Nah, just wanna check on Cheryl and my nephew,” I said, trying to shrug it off and make it sound as natural as I could.
“Your nephew? I didn’t know Cheryl had a kid,” responded John, with a pair of confused eyes. “That’s strange, I would’ve known since I live across the road from her,” he added.
Now things were getting weird.
John happened to live across the road from Cheryl | Source: Pexels
Out of curiosity, I asked John about my father after a brief explanation that we haven’t been talking for quite a few years.
“Yea, he goes over to Cheryl’s every weekend. His business partner screwed him over, I heard, so he lost quite a bit of money there. He seemed sad for a while but he seems alright now,” he said. “I think Cheryl managed to bail him out or something.”
“His partner screwed him over? When was that?”
“Maybe a month or two ago? I remember seeing him walking around Cheryl’s driveway, calling and cursing at his phone—must’ve been around that time.”
I decided to pay Cheryl a visit. I had to know what happened.
I knocked on Cheryl’s door, not entirely sure what I was expecting | Source: Pexels
So, I pulled up in front of Cheryl’s house, rang the doorbell, and she opened the door for me.
From the door I could see my father sitting in the living room, having a glass of wine in his hand—and no, I did not see any kid in the house.
Cheryl was surprised to see me there, as you can guess by now. “Emma? What’re you doing here?” she asked.
“Just trying to check up on my nephew,” I responded.
For a fleeting moment, I could see it in her eyes that she was trying to avoid the topic.
“Oh, a friend of mine is babysitting Anthony now,” she responded. “Do you want to come in? We haven’t seen you in years,” she added.
I was still hesitant at the time—just one step, and I could step inside the house and perhaps deal with all that trauma sown within me years ago. It was so close, that feeling of being able to make things right at last.
But I wasn’t ready. I told them I was a bit under the weather and got back into my car and drove to a nearby motel.
Unable to face Cheryl and my father, I drove to a motel nearby for the night | Source: Pexels
The next day I bumped into John again at a local diner. God certainly works in mysterious ways.
But it was a bit different this time—when he saw me at the diner he simply turned around without saying a single word.
That was strange, I thought to myself. Considering we were on good terms the whole time, there was something odd about it. I decided to walk towards him and asked him what’s up.
“Hey man, sup? Is everything alright?” I asked him when he sat down at his table.
He tried to avoid having eye contact with me, but I just stood there, utterly bewildered by his reaction.
“Hey, I know it’s none of my business, but I think you might need some help,” he said.
Now this just got way more confusing.
“What? Why? I don’t think I understand,” I said.
“Look, I talked to Cheryl last night, about her having a kid—she told me that … well, she told me why you left,” he said meekly.
“What? What did she say?”
“She said you were … imagining things, and they had to send you away to the hospital.”
“W—what? How?”
I bumped into John again in the diner, but I could tell that something was wrong | Source: Pexels
“She doesn’t have a kid and I don’t understand why you said she has. So last night I went over to her place and asked her about it, and she told me what happened,” he said, but then he paused for a moment. “She said you just showed up out of nowhere and started asking about her kid … Look, I don’t want any trouble here.”
That … wretched woman. I don’t know if I can still call her my sister anymore. Did she just throw me under the bus after all I did for her and presumably our father? Am I hallucinating? No, I was pretty sure I was not.
“Wait a second,” I said to John as he was about to leave. I then went through my inbox and showed the email to John. He looked at it and went quiet for a while. But at last, he responded.
“Look, it’s really none of my business, just leave me out of this,” he said, and he simply left the diner without touching his pancakes.
Here I am, back in San Francisco, wondering if I did the right thing | Source: Pexels
So here I am, back in San Francisco at my own apartment. I just drove all the way back here after that interaction with John—Lord knows what other folks in town were talking about right now. Can you imagine that? My very own sister, fabricating a lie so that I could save our father who never cared about me, and then throwing me under the bus and telling the folks that I was crazy? Seriously?
I am not sure how I should feel about it—I admit that writing it down did make me feel better. But still … I couldn’t help but wonder if it would have made a difference if I actually walked into the house and talked to them. Maybe I had a chance to change something? Maybe things wouldn’t end up the way they are now?
I don’t know. I really don’t know.
What can we learn from this story?
Sometimes we just have to let things go. It is what it is, sometimes there’s just nothing we can do about it. Let go and start living.
Look forward. We cannot change the past, whatever that is, but we can try and move on, one way or another.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed reading this, you might also enjoy this one where a man sheltered a homeless woman and discovered who she really was.
My Entitled Daughter Stole My Wedding, but I Didn’t Let It Slide
On the day of Mabel and Adam’s wedding, they’re stuck in a limousine as they crawl along the freeway, thanks to traffic. Instead of keeping her mother’s guests entertained, Mabel’s daughter, Amanda, takes over the wedding, stealing the limelight. Will Mabel retaliate at the wedding or just let Amanda learn her lesson another way?
Weddings are supposed to be magical, right? An entire day dedicated to the culmination of love, months of planning, and a chance to stand with your person, promising to be with them forever…
That was the dream, at least, until my daughter Amanda turned it into an absolute nightmare.
A beautiful wedding setting | Source: Midjourney
Sigh.
It started with traffic, of course. My fiancé Adam and I were stuck on the freeway in our limousine, trapped in a sea of brake lights thanks to an overturned truck miles ahead. We weren’t too worried about the traditions. We were both married before, so seeing each other before the ceremony was the least of our concerns.
“Time, please, Ben?” I called through the intercom for our driver.
A couple sitting in a limousine | Source: Midjourney
“It’s difficult to say, Mabel,” he said. “But I’m trying to gap in whenever I can! I will get you and Adam down the aisle!”
We were definitely going to be late.
“Love, call Amanda,” Adam said, his jaw tight as he tapped on the seat. “Tell her to sort out the guests, just get the band going and keep people entertained.”
A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney
I dialed my daughter, already feeling the pressure. She picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, sweetie,” I said the moment she answered. “We’re stuck in traffic. There has been an accident, so everything is at a standstill. Can you make sure everything’s running smoothly at the venue? We’ll be about 30 minutes or so. Adam said to get the band playing.”
“Of course, Mommy!” Amanda chirped, her voice syrupy sweet. “Don’t you worry about a thing other than getting here. I’ve got everything else handled. Be safe!”
A smiling woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I exhaled, letting her assurance calm my nerves. But not ten minutes later, my phone buzzed. It was my sister, Jess.
Her voice was frantic.
“Sis, you have to come here now! It’s Amanda, she…” her voice trailed off before the call cut off.
“She’s what?” I muttered, immediately redialing, but it went straight to voicemail. A heavy pit settled in my stomach, but there was nothing we could do except crawl forward in the traffic.
A woman using a phone | Source: Midjourney
“What do you think Jess meant? What do you think is going on?” I asked Adam after filling him in.
“Oh, honey,” he said. “Honestly, I’m sure Amanda picked up a mic and is trying to sing with the band.”
When we finally pulled up to the venue half an hour later, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Amanda stood on the steps, her face glowing as she held a bouquet of ivory roses. She was in a wedding dress. It was white and simple, but it was definitely a wedding dress.
A smiling young couple | Source: Midjourney
Our photographers swarmed around her, cameras clicking as she posed with a dazzling smile. And next to her stood Kyle, her boyfriend of barely a year, looking dazed and uncomfortable in a suit.
I felt my heart stop.
“What the hell is going on?” I yelled, storming up the stairs.
Amanda turned to me, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement.
An upset bride | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, Mommy!” she gushed. “I’m so sad you missed the ceremony! It was lovely!”
My jaw dropped.
“My ceremony? You had my ceremony? You stole my ceremony? Amanda, are you out of your damn mind?”
“Well,” she said, brushing imaginary dust off her dress. “I thought since you were late, we couldn’t let the time go to waste. Everything was already set up, and the officiant needed to get going. You know how much I hate delays. So… I married Kyle!”
A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney
The audacity of it left me speechless. My beautiful ceremony, the one Adam and I had dreamed of and planned for months… it was all gone. It had been hijacked by my own daughter.
“You’ll get married another day!” she chirped, as if she hadn’t just crushed my heart. “Now, Kyle and I are going to do the final walk down to the reception hall. The guests are going to throw the rice and confetti. Do you want to join?”
I shook my head.
Confetti being thrown on a couple | Source: Midjourney
Adam came up behind me, his face a mix of fury and heartbreak. He had spent so much time trying to bond and build a relationship with Amanda that I knew her behavior had broken his heart, too.
“Say the word, love,” he said. “Say the word, Mabel, and I’ll shut this down right now.”
I looked at Amanda, the girl I raised, who was now staring at me with infuriating smugness. My fists clenched. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to fight her, to take back what she had stolen.
A frowning man | Source: Midjourney
But I exhaled slowly.
“She’s still my daughter,” I muttered to Adam. “Don’t. I’ll teach her a lesson another way.”
The reception was a surreal experience. Amanda flounced through the room, acting like the star of a fairy tale, completely oblivious to the devastation she’d caused.
My family and friends came around between courses, asking what had really happened.
A crowd of people at a wedding reception | Source: Midjourney
“Mabel, we thought it was your wedding, dear,” my aunt said. “You were supposed to get your happy ending. What is this about Amanda getting married? We didn’t know that she was even seeing someone!”
“I don’t know, Aunt Joy,” I said. “I’m just as surprised as you are.”
When dessert rolled around, Amanda even had the nerve to cut into the cake we’d ordered, complete with the beautiful sugar flowers.
A beautiful wedding cake | Source: Midjourney
Jess pulled me aside at one point, her eyes blazing.
“That daughter of yours pulled my phone away while I was talking to you. And then she locked me in the bathroom during the ceremony! I couldn’t do anything else about it! Why didn’t you stop her when you got here?”
“Because,” I said, a smile curling my lips. “Revenge is best served cold.”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
The real kicker came later that evening. Amanda knocked on our hotel room door, smiling as if nothing had happened.
Adam and I were sitting on the bed, eating our way through the room service dessert menu.
“So,” she said, leaning against the cupboard in the room. “Kyle and I need your tickets to Chile for the honeymoon. I mean, there’s no point in you guys using them after all.”
A couple sitting in a hotel room | Source: Midjourney
Adam froze. I swear, I saw his hand twitch toward the night light like he was ready to throw it.
But I smiled, keeping my voice calm.
“Of course, sweetie. You can have the tickets. You and Kyle deserve some fun.”
A smiling bride in a hotel room | Source: Midjourney
Amanda squealed, hugged me, stole a strawberry from one of the plates, and let herself out.
“What the hell, Mabel?” Adam asked. “Really? She’s taking our honeymoon too? We worked so hard for all of this. Our wedding, our honeymoon, all of it. And for what? For Amanda to behave like a brat?”
“I know you’re upset,” I said. “But honey, trust me. She’s going to learn a lesson. Two days from now, you’ll see.”
An upset man in a hotel room | Source: Midjourney
And just like clockwork, Amanda phoned two mornings later, her voice anything but cheerful.
“How could you do this to me, Mom?!” she screamed.
I smirked, cradling the phone to my ear.
“Amanda, darling, is something wrong?”
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Wrong?” she shouted. “You gave me tickets to the Arctic! We’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, freezing, and there’s nothing to do!”
I bit back a laugh. The tickets had been for Chile, technically. But they were only a layover on the way to our real destination: an Arctic expedition. Glacier hikes, frigid waters, and polar bear sightings.
It was our dream trip. But Amanda? She hated the cold. Luxury resorts and tropical beaches were more her style.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
Classic Amanda. She had never bothered to check the full itinerary.
“You asked for the tickets, Amanda,” I said.
“But what must I do?” she whined.
“You’re a married woman now. Figure it out.”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
She hung up on me, already muttering a series of curses. And I couldn’t stop grinning.
Meanwhile, Adam and I made new plans. My sister and our closest friends rallied together to throw us the most beautiful wedding celebration at Jess’s house a week later.
They handled everything, from catering to decorations, and it was even more perfect than I could have imagined.
Beautiful wedding decor | Source: Midjourney
This time, Amanda wasn’t invited. And do you know what made everything so special? The gifts.
Since Amanda had hijacked my original wedding, all the presents went to us. A brand-new espresso machine, luxury linens, and an all-expenses-paid spa weekend from Adam’s older brother.
It was like karma had gift-wrapped itself for us.
A coffee machine in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
When Amanda found out, she had another meltdown.
“Mom, you stole my wedding gifts?” she shouted over the phone. “Everything was supposed to be left at the wedding venue until we got back from our honeymoon.”
“I think you should stop talking,” I said.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, you ruined everything for me!” she cried. “I can’t believe you stole my damn gifts.”
“Amanda,” I began, laughing. “Your gifts? You stole my wedding. Consider this a fair trade.”
Adam, at the espresso machine, doubled over and laughed.
As for Amanda’s new marriage to Kyle?
A man laughing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
From what I hear, it’s already on the rocks. Jess told me later that Kyle looked downright miserable during the wedding ceremony. And I had seen that for myself during the reception. He had avoided Adam and me completely.
“That boy’s in for a rough ride with her,” Jess said when she came over for tea and cake a few days later.
Amanda might have stolen my fairy-tale wedding, but her happily-ever-after was already on thin ice.
Cake and tea on a table | Source: Midjourney
As for Adam and me? We’re better than ever. We did go on our Arctic honeymoon, and it was breathtaking.
Some lessons, I guess, are best learned the hard way. Amanda might never admit it, but I like to think she’s realized that entitlement comes at a cost.
And if not? Well, let’s just say I’ll always have the satisfaction of knowing she outsmarted herself.
Karma, after all, has a way of evening the score.
A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another for you:
My Cousin Intentionally Sewed My Wedding Dress 2 Sizes Smaller – She Was Shocked When She Saw What I Did with It
When Jess and Michael get engaged, her cousin Sarah decided to sew her wedding dress for her as a gift. But during the final fitting, Jess discovers that the wedding dress is two sizes too small. Will Sarah fix her error, or will Jess have to take things into her own hands?
My cousin Sarah and I have always had a complicated relationship. She’s loud and bubbly, but also the type of person who craves the spotlight. And because of that, our entire family gave her the attention she wanted. It made more sense to shine the spotlight on Sarah, rather than ourselves.
When Michael and I got engaged after being together for four years, my whole family seemed genuinely excited for me.
A couple standing together | Source: Midjourney
Sarah even got all of our girl cousins together, along with my best friends, for a night out. Ending in an Airbnb where we continued the party, because I was the first of us to get engaged.
During that night out, Sarah came up to me, a glass of champagne in her hand.
“Jess! I have a great idea!” she said.
A smiling woman holding a glass of champagne | Source: Midjourney
“What?” I asked. “What do you want to do?”
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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