All my life, I felt like an outsider in my own home. My mother adored my sisters, Kira and Alexa, but treated me like a burden. While they got love, new clothes, and ice cream trips, I got chores, hand-me-downs, and harsh words. The reason, I later learned, was because I looked too much like the man my mother wanted to forget my real father.
At fourteen, desperate for the truth, I bought a DNA test. When my dad found the results, the truth erupted: I wasn’t his child. The fights that followed tore my family apart. He divorced my mother, left Alexa behind, and walked away from the rest of us. From then on, my mother’s resentment grew unbearable. She forced me to pay rent, while my sisters were free of responsibility, and Alexa blamed me for everything. By the time I finished high school, I knew I had to escape.
On my own, I finally demanded answers from my mother. At first, she lied about my biological father’s identity, but I forced her to give me the truth. When I finally met him Rick he welcomed me with open arms. He told me he’d always wanted me, but my mother had kept him away, saying I hated him. For the first time, I felt real love. He introduced me to his family, who embraced me instantly, and even gave me a house to start fresh.
But freedom didn’t come without one last battle. While I was away on a trip, my mother and Kira moved into my house without permission. They tried to claim it as theirs, twisting guilt and lies like always. This time, I stood my ground. I called the police, and they left. I changed the locks, blocked their numbers, and finally cut ties. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t a burden, a servant, or an outsider I was simply free.
