When I was 15, my mom kicked me out of the house. She said I was a burden, a disappointment, and that I’d never amount to anything. I had nowhere to go, so I stayed with a friend, bouncing between different places. My dad tried to keep in touch, but he was mostly absent due to his own struggles.
Years went by, and I built a life for myself. I worked hard, graduated, and eventually started a family. But despite all my achievements, I couldn’t forget how my mom had abandoned me.
When my dad passed away, I was stunned to learn that my mom had asked for her share of the inheritance. After everything, she wanted a part of what my dad left behind—money that was rightfully mine, too. I felt betrayed, yet part of me still longed for closure. It took years, but I finally found peace—without her.
In the end, the inheritance didn’t heal the past, but it gave me the strength to move on.