My name is Emily and I’m the youngest of five kids. My siblings, Mike, Chris, Rachel and Josh, were all so much older than me that sometimes I felt like I was part of a different family. By the time I was old enough to start forming memories they were already moving out, going to college or starting their adult lives. It was like I was an afterthought, a weird tag-along they had to put up with.
But even so, I loved them. When you’re the youngest kid you look up to your older siblings like they’re heroes. I thought Mike hung the moon when I was little.
He was the cool oldest brother who could do no wrong. Chris was quieter and more serious, but I still adored him. Rachel was my big sister, the one I always hoped would let me into her life and show me how to be like her.
And Josh, the baby of the older ones, felt the closest to me in age, but even he kept me at arm’s length. The first time it really hit me how I didn’t matter to them was Mike’s wedding. I was ten years old.
Ten is that weird age where you feel old enough to be included in grown-up things but still young enough to be treated like a child. When Mike and his fiancée Sarah announced they were having a child-free wedding, I assumed that didn’t mean me. I mean, I wasn’t some random kid who would throw food or scream during the vows.
I was his sister! I still remember the day my parents sat me down. I’d been so excited, I even asked my mom if I could wear one of her necklaces for the big day. That’s when she said it.
Mike and Sarah are having an adults-only wedding, Emily. You’re not going to be able to come. I stared at her for a second, trying to process.
But I’m not like other kids, I said, trying to reason with her. I’ll be quiet, I promise. She patted my head like I was some kind of puppy.
It’s just for adults, sweetie. You’ll understand when you’re older. I didn’t understand at all.
I cried in my room for hours. Mike was my brother, and I wanted to see him get married. I wanted to be there to watch Sarah, who I already thought of as my sister, walk down the aisle.
But instead, my parents left me with a babysitter. I remember the feeling of staring at the clock that day, imagining everything I was missing. When Mike came home from his honeymoon, I thought maybe he’d bring it up.
Maybe he’d say he was sorry I couldn’t come or tell me some funny story from the wedding. But he didn’t. He acted like I wasn’t even a part of it, like I wasn’t even worth acknowledging.
Two years later, Chris got engaged. I was twelve by then, and I thought things would be different. I was older, quieter, and very well behaved.
I didn’t whine or cause a fuss, and I made sure everyone knew it. So, when they said his wedding was child-free too, I thought, okay, but this time I’ll be invited. Nope.
Once again, I got the same speech. Chris and his fiancée want the wedding to be adults only, Emily. It’s not personal.
Not personal? It felt personal. How could it not be personal when it happened twice? I tried not to cry this time. I was older, and I wanted to act more mature.
I didn’t beg or scream. I just sat quietly while my parents made their excuses. My mom even tried to comfort me.
You’ll have your own wedding someday, and it’ll be wonderful, you’ll see. But it didn’t make me feel better. I was starting to realize something.
My siblings didn’t see me as family, at least not in the way I saw them. When Rachel got engaged, I was fifteen by then. I was a full-on teenager who wanted nothing more than to feel included.
At first, Rachel didn’t even plan on banning kids from her wedding. She wanted everyone to come, but of course the family had to get involved. My aunts and uncles kept saying things like, it’s so refreshing to have a wedding without kids running wild, and children just make things so chaotic.
Eventually, Rachel caved. The rule became no one under sixteen. I was fifteen, so close that it felt like a slap in the face.
I went to Rachel and asked, can I just be an exception? I’m your sister, I’ll be quiet, I promise. Rachel looked at me with this serious expression and said, if I make an exception for you, what about the other kids? It wouldn’t be fair. Fair? Are you kidding me? I lost it.
I started yelling, it’s not fair that I can’t go to any of your weddings. I’m not just some kid, I’m your sister. That’s when my parents got involved.
I got grounded for six months for disrespecting Rachel and causing drama. Six months. I spent most of that time in my room just stewing in my anger and hurt.
By the time Josh got engaged when I was seventeen, I didn’t even bother asking. I already knew I wouldn’t be invited. Sure enough, the announcement came, child-free wedding.
At that point, I was numb to it. I didn’t cry, I didn’t yell, and I didn’t ask why. I just accepted it.
But what really stung? My cousin Amanda, who had just turned eighteen, was invited. I heard about it through the family grapevine. Apparently, they thought eighteen was the cutoff.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. Amanda was only a few months older than me, but she got to go because she’d hit the magical age of adulthood. When my parents asked why I didn’t make a big deal congratulating Josh, I just shrugged.
I sent him a quick text, congrats, hope it’s a great day. Then I locked myself in my room, like I always did. By that point, I had started to check out emotionally.
I realized that I just didn’t matter to them. I wasn’t their little sister. I was just a kid they barely thought about.
And it hurt. It really, really hurt. Years passed after the last wedding.
I stopped trying to fit into my siblings’ lives because, honestly, I was just tired. Tired of being the one left out. Tired of being the kid sister who no one cared about unless it was convenient for them.
By the time I met my now-fiancé, Tyler, I’d pretty much checked out of the family dynamic. I didn’t expect much from anyone anymore. Tyler was the first person to actually listen when I told him about my family
I remember sitting on his couch telling him about how I’d been banned from four of my siblings’ weddings, and he looked genuinely shocked. Wait, they didn’t invite you? Not even when you were, like, fifteen? Nope, I said, trying to play it off like it didn’t hurt anymore. What the hell? You’re their sister, he said.
He just sat there shaking his head for a minute before adding, that’s seriously messed up. I think that was when I realized it really was messed up. I’d spent so many years convincing myself it was normal.
Child-free weddings sounded reasonable on paper, it wasn’t like I was being deliberately targeted, right? But no, four times my family chose to exclude me. Not a single sibling thought, hey, Emily should be there. It wasn’t normal.
So when Tyler and I got engaged a few years later, I knew one thing for certain, my wedding was going to be different. My wedding was going to be full of people who actually cared about me. People who wanted to celebrate me, not just show up because it was expected of them.
That’s when I made my decision. I wasn’t inviting my siblings. It wasn’t some big dramatic moment.
I didn’t write an angry letter or announce it in the family group chat. I just left them off the guest list, simple as that. I knew it would blow up eventually, but I figured I’d cross that bridge when I got there.
The first sign of trouble came about two months before the wedding. My mom called me randomly one afternoon, acting weirdly chipper. I should have known something was up.
So, Emily, she said in that voice she always used when she wanted something, how are the wedding plans coming along? Good, I said cautiously. Everything’s almost done. That’s great, she said, pausing for a moment before adding.
Your brothers and sister haven’t gotten their invitations yet. Did you send them out already? My heart started pounding. I didn’t want to have this conversation, not yet.
Yeah, I sent them out, I said, trying to sound casual. She didn’t miss a beat. Well, they didn’t get one.
Maybe it got lost in the mail. I sighed. Mom, I didn’t invite them.
There was silence on the other end of the line, just a heavy, shocked pause. Then came the explosion. What, Emily? How could you not invite your own family? Your siblings? What’s wrong with you? I gripped the phone and tried to stay calm.
They didn’t invite me to their wedding, Mom. Not a single one of them. So, I’m returning the favor.
It’s fair, she sounded like I just committed a crime. That was different. You were young.
They didn’t mean to hurt you. I laughed bitterly. Well, it hurt anyway, and now I’m done pretending like it didn’t.
She started in on the guilt trip immediately. Emily, you’re being spiteful. Family is family.
You don’t just shut them out like this. What are people going to think? And there it was. What will people think? My mom’s favorite concern.
I cut her off before she could say anything else. I don’t care what people think, Mom. This is my wedding, and I’m only inviting people who care about me.
They didn’t care enough to include me in their big days, so I don’t see why they deserve to be at mine. She hung up on me. I wasn’t surprised.
That night, the group chat blew up. It started with Rachel, being fake as usual. Hey, Em, did something happen with the mail? We haven’t gotten our invites yet.
Then came Chris, blunt as always. What’s going on? Why aren’t we invited? I stared at my phone for a long time, debating whether or not to reply. Part of me wanted to lay it all out, to tell them exactly how much they’d hurt me over the years.
But another part of me didn’t see the point. They wouldn’t get it. They never had.
So, I didn’t say anything. I just left the chat on read. Tyler noticed I was quiet during dinner and asked what was wrong.
I showed him the messages and he shook his head. You don’t owe them an explanation, Em. They made their choices.
Yeah, but… I trailed off. They’re going to make me out to be the bad guy. I know it.
Let them, he said firmly. You know the truth. That’s all that matters.
The next day, my parents showed up at my apartment unannounced. I didn’t even have to ask what they were there for. My mom came storming in the second I opened the door.
What are you thinking, Emily? Not inviting your own siblings to your wedding? What kind of person does that? I tried to stay calm, even though my patience was wearing thin. Mom, I told you. They didn’t think I was important enough to include in their weddings, so I’m not including them in mine.
My dad finally spoke up, his voice stern. You’re being childish, Emily. You’re holding on to something that happened years ago.
That’s when I snapped. I was a child when they did it, Dad. I begged to be at their weddings, and they all shut me out.
Don’t talk to me about being childish when I was the one left crying at home four times. They didn’t know what to say to that. My mom looked like she was about to cry, but I didn’t let her guilt me this time.
You can keep defending them if you want, but I’m not changing my mind. If they cared about me, they would have shown it back then. They left, furious and frustrated.
Over the next few days, the messages from my siblings got nastier. Chris called me selfish. Rachel said I was ruining the family.
Josh didn’t even bother sugarcoating it. You’re being petty, Emily. Grow up.
I didn’t reply to any of them. I didn’t need to explain myself anymore. Tyler hugged me one night while I was scrolling through their messages and said, I’m proud of you, you know, for standing up for yourself.
And for the first time, I felt proud of myself too. After the first round of family drama, I expected things to die down. I figured they’d grumble to each other for a while, maybe complain to some distant cousins, and then move on.
That’s how things usually went when my family didn’t get their way. But I underestimated just how big of a deal they were going to make this. It started small.
Rachel, of course, couldn’t resist posting a passive-aggressive status on Facebook. Family is forever, even when some people forget what that word means. I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck.
Tyler was scrolling next to me on the couch, and when I showed him the post, he shook his head. What is she, 14? Basically, I muttered, trying to brush it off. I told myself it didn’t matter.
I knew the truth, and I knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong. But it still bugged me. It’s hard not to feel hurt when your own sister goes out of her way to take shots at you publicly.
It didn’t stop there. Over the next few days, little jabs started showing up in our extended family group chat. I’d muted it a long time ago, but Tyler still checked his phone one afternoon and said, uh, Emily, you might want to see this.
The messages were flying. Rachel, it’s so sad when family starts prioritizing petty grudges over love. Chris, I just don’t understand.
I thought we were better than this. And then Mike, good old I’m the eldest and I know best Mike, decided to take his shot. I never realized how much bitterness you’ve been holding onto, Emily.
It’s really sad. You’re ruining relationships over something that happened years ago. I stared at the screen, my blood boiling.
They didn’t get it. They still didn’t get it. They made it sound like I was blowing a minor issue out of proportion, as if they hadn’t spent my entire life excluding me.
I wanted to reply. I wanted to type out every single thing they had done and make them see how hypocritical they were being. But I knew better.
Arguing with them would just give them more ammunition. They’d spin my words into me being dramatic or unstable or whatever else they wanted to say to avoid taking responsibility. Instead, I did the one thing they never expected.
I left the group chat. That night, my mom called me. I knew she’d heard about the group chat incident because she jumped straight into yelling the second I answered.
Emily, what is wrong with you? Hi, Mom, I said flatly. Don’t start with that attitude, she snapped. Do you know what you’ve done? Your siblings are heartbroken.
You’re destroying this family. Heartbroken? I laughed bitterly. They ignored me my entire childhood, but now they’re heartbroken? Give me a break.
You’re being so spiteful, she said. You’ve always been like this, holding onto grudges and making everything about you. That’s when I lost it.
I’m the one holding grudges? Mom, I was ten when Mike got married. Ten. I cried because I wanted to be there.
And you all told me I didn’t matter enough to be included. And it didn’t stop there. It happened again and again and again.
I begged to be at Rachel’s wedding, and she told me no because it wouldn’t be fair. That was years ago, she said dismissively. Yeah, and I’m still living with the way it made me feel.
You all decided I wasn’t important enough back then. Why should you suddenly get a front row seat to my life now? She didn’t have an answer to that. Instead, she tried to flip the script.
This isn’t about the weddings, Emily. This is about you pushing everyone away because you’re bitter. Tyler’s probably encouraging you, isn’t he? I groaned.
Mom, stop blaming Tyler. This has nothing to do with him. This is about me finally realizing I deserve better than to be treated like I don’t matter.
Her voice softened, like she was trying to play the concerned mother. Emily, you don’t understand. Family is all you’ll have in the end.
Friends and partners come and go, but your family is forever. No, I said firmly. Family is supposed to care about you.
They’re supposed to love and support you. That’s not what you’ve been to me. She started crying, big dramatic sobs that I knew were more about guilt-tripping me than anything else.
You’ll regret this one day, Emily, she said through her tears. You’ll see. I don’t think I will, I said quietly before hanging up.
Over the next week, things got worse. I blocked Rachel and Chris on social media because I couldn’t take the constant snide comments. My mom called Tyler twice, apparently hoping to talk sense into him.
He didn’t answer. Then Mike sent me a long email, yes, an actual email, about forgiveness and family unity. He even had the nerve to quote some Bible verse about letting go of anger.
I didn’t respond. Tyler and I sat down one night, and I vented about everything. It’s like they’re determined to pretend I’m the problem.
They don’t see how messed up it is that they ignored me for years and then flipped out when I finally stood up for myself. You know what it is, Tyler said. They’re not mad that they weren’t invited.
They’re mad that they don’t get to control you anymore. That hit me like a punch to the gut. He was right.
My whole life, my family had treated me like an afterthought, like someone they could dismiss whenever it suited them. But now that I was doing something for myself, something they couldn’t control, they couldn’t handle it. They’ll get over it eventually, I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed it.
And then Tyler said something that really stuck with me. Maybe they will, maybe they won’t, but either way, it’s not your problem. He was right.
For the first time, I realized I didn’t owe my family anything, not my time, not my attention, and certainly not an invitation to my wedding. A week later, my dad sent me a short, guilt-laden text. Emily, your mom isn’t doing well.
She’s really upset about all of this. Maybe you could reconsider. I stared at it for a long time before replying.
Maybe she should have thought about that before ignoring me all those years. I hit send, then blocked his number. For the first time in a long time, I felt free.
The weeks leading up to my wedding were a strange mix of excitement and tension. On one hand, I was thrilled to finally marry Tyler and have the day I’d been dreaming of since I was a kid. On the other hand, the drama with my family still lingered like an unwelcome guest.
My parents had stopped calling me directly, probably because I’d blocked my mom’s number after her last meltdown, but that didn’t stop other people. My aunt called me out of the blue. I hadn’t spoken to her in years, so I was immediately suspicious when her name popped up on my phone.
I answered, and she got right to the point. Emily, honey, I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of this, she said in her sweet but condescending tone. Family is family.
It’s not right to leave your siblings out of your wedding. I sighed, gripping the phone a little tighter. Aunt Linda, it’s not just about the wedding.
This has been years in the making. I’m not going to change my mind. But it’s family, she pressed, like that word was supposed to fix everything.
I’m sure they didn’t mean to hurt you back then. Can’t you just let it go and be the bigger person? I closed my eyes, trying not to snap. Being the bigger person doesn’t mean letting people walk all over you.
It’s about knowing when to put yourself first. There was a pause on the other end, and I could hear her sigh dramatically. Well, I just hope you don’t regret this one day, or you’re going to miss your family, and they won’t be there.
I didn’t say anything. I just hung up. The morning of the wedding, I woke up feeling an odd combination of peace and nerves.
It wasn’t the normal, what-if-something-goes-wrong kind of wedding day jitters. It was more like I was waiting for a shoe to drop. I knew my family wasn’t invited, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d find a way to insert themselves into the day somehow.
But Tyler, being the amazing guy he is, refused to let me dwell on it. When I told him about my worries as we got ready separately, he just smiled and said, M, this day is about us. Nothing else matters.
If anyone tries to ruin it, I’ll personally escort them out. That made me laugh, and for the first time in weeks, I felt lighter. The venue we chose was perfect.
It was small and intimate, a garden surrounded by flowers, twinkle lights strung through the trees, and a little gazebo where we’d say our vows. I didn’t want a giant, elaborate wedding. I wanted something that felt real and full of love, and that’s exactly what it was.
My closest friends were there, along with some extended family who’d actually been kind to me over the years. It felt right. As I stood in front of the mirror, putting the final touches on my dress, my maid of honor, my best friend Jenna, walked in and grinned.
You look amazing, M. Thanks, I said softly, feeling a wave of emotions. Jenna sat on the edge of the couch and watched me for a moment. Are you okay? I hesitated before nodding.
Yeah, I’m just… I don’t know, sad, I guess. Not about today. Today is perfect.
But about the fact that my family isn’t here. She frowned and leaned forward. Emily, it’s okay to feel that.
Just because you made the right choice doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Her words hit me hard. I turned to look at her, tears welling up in my eyes.
I wanted them to care, you know? I wanted them to fight for me when I was a kid, and they never did. Jenna stood up and hugged me tightly. You don’t need their approval.
You have people who love you. Focus on that. I nodded, taking a deep breath.
She was right. Today wasn’t about my family. It was about me and Tyler.
When the ceremony started, I was so overwhelmed by the beauty of it all that I forgot about everything else. I remember standing at the end of the aisle, staring at Tyler and thinking, This is it. This is what happiness feels like
As I walked toward him, I felt this sense of freedom wash over me. I wasn’t the forgotten little sister anymore. I wasn’t the kid who begged to be included and got turned away.
I was a bride, surrounded by people who truly loved me and wanted to see me happy. The vows were perfect. Tyler promised to love me, protect me, and always stand by my side, and I promised the same.
By the time we said, I do, there wasn’t a dry eye in the audience, including mine. The reception was everything I hoped it would be. We laughed, we ate, we danced until our feet hurt.
My friends toasted to us, sharing funny stories and heartfelt wishes for our future. Tyler’s parents, who had always been so kind to me, told me they were proud to have me as part of their family. At one point, I snuck away from the crowd just to take it all in.
I stood at the edge of the garden, looking at the lights twinkling in the trees and the people laughing together, and I felt so full. For so many years, I’d believed the lie my family told me, that I didn’t matter, that I wasn’t important enough to be part of their lives. But standing there, watching all these people who truly cared about me, I realized something.
I matter to the people who actually deserve to know me. Later that night, as the reception started winding down, one of my cousins pulled me aside. Hey Emily, I probably shouldn’t say this, but… I groaned
What is it now? She looked sheepish. Your mom and Rachel apparently threw some kind of dinner tonight, like as an alternative to your wedding. I stared at her for a second, then burst out laughing.
Are you serious? She nodded. I know. It’s pathetic.
I just thought you should know. I shook my head, still laughing. That’s fine.
Let them throw their pity party. I hope the food’s good. I could tell my cousin expected me to be upset, but honestly, I wasn’t.
If anything, it was proof that I’d made the right decision. My family had spent my whole life excluding me and then trying to justify it. Now that I was the one drawing the boundary, they couldn’t handle it.
At the end of the night, Tyler and I shared one last dance while everyone gathered around us. As we swayed together, I whispered, I’m so happy we did this. He smiled down at me.
Me too, Em. This is just the beginning. And for the first time, I believed it.
My family wasn’t there. They didn’t get to see the best day of my life. But that was their loss, not mine, because as I looked around the room, surrounded by love and laughter, I realized I had everything I’d ever needed and none of it had come from them
I thought the worst of it was over after the wedding. I really did. The day had been perfect, everything I hoped for and more, and I felt like I’d finally moved on from my family’s nonsense.
I didn’t miss them at the ceremony. I didn’t spend a second wondering what it would have been like if they were there. I was surrounded by people who loved me, and that was enough.
But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about my family, it’s that they don’t like being ignored. It’s almost like they couldn’t handle the fact that I was happy without them. So, they decided to stir the pot one last time.
It started with a message from Rachel a week after the wedding. Of course, it was Rachel. She’d always been the one to throw the first stone when it came to family drama.
Saw some pics from your wedding. I can’t believe you had it in a garden. Looked casual, but I guess that’s what you wanted.
I stared at the message, stunned. She couldn’t even pretend to be nice. It wasn’t enough for her to just leave me alone
She had to find something to criticize. I was tempted to reply with something snarky, something about how her wedding might have been fancier, but at least mine wasn’t full of fake smiles and people who didn’t care about me. But I stopped myself.
I didn’t owe her a response. A few days later, I started getting messages from extended family members I hadn’t heard from in years. Apparently, Rachel, Mike, and Chris were on some kind of campaign to paint me as the villain.
My Aunt Linda, yes, the same one who tried guilt-tripping me before the wedding, sent me another message. Emily, I don’t know what happened between you and your siblings, but they’re really hurt. Rachel says she tried to reach out, and you’re ignoring her.
Maybe it’s time to let go of the past. I sighed and rolled my eyes. How many times did I have to explain this? How many people did my siblings need to rope into this mess before they realized I wasn’t budging? Tyler noticed I was frustrated and sat down beside me.
Another guilt trip, he asked, glancing at my phone. Yeah, Aunt Linda again. She says they’re hurt.
He snorted. Hurt because they can’t control you anymore. I smiled faintly.
He wasn’t wrong. I just don’t get it. They ignored me for years.
I begged to be included in their lives, and they shut me out. Now suddenly, I’m the bad guy for setting boundaries? That’s how it always goes, he said softly. When you start protecting yourself, the people who hurt you are the first ones to cry about it.
The real low point came a few days later when my mom showed up unannounced. It was a Sunday afternoon, and Tyler and I were having a lazy day, making brunch in pajamas, laughing over burnt pancakes. We heard a knock at the door, and I froze.
I just knew it was her. Sure enough, I opened the door to find my mom standing there, looking as dramatic as ever. Emily, she said, her voice already carrying that familiar tone of disappointment.
We need to talk. I sighed. Mom, now isn’t a good time.
She didn’t care. She pushed the door open slightly, trying to step inside. Tyler appeared behind me, gently putting his hand on my shoulder for support.
Emily, please, she continued. This has gone far enough. Your siblings are devastated.
Devastated? Do you really think this is how family should act? I clenched my jaw and kept my voice calm. You don’t get to show up here and lecture me, Mom. I invited the people who care about me to my wedding
They didn’t make the cut, and that’s their fault, not mine. Her face fell into that familiar look of disbelief, like she couldn’t comprehend how I could possibly stand up to her. You don’t mean that.
They love you, Emily. They’re your family. No, Mom, I said, my voice firm.
Family doesn’t make you feel small. Family doesn’t leave you out when you’re a kid, and then demand to be part of your life when it’s convenient for them. I spent my entire life trying to prove I mattered to them, and they never cared.
I’m done. She blinked, stunned into silence for once. I could tell she wanted to argue, but Tyler stepped forward, his voice gentle but strong.
I think it’s time for you to leave, he said simply. My mom looked between the two of us, her face a mix of anger and sadness. You’ll regret this, Emily, she said, her voice soft now, like she was delivering a prophecy.
You’ll miss us one day, and we won’t be there. I met her eyes, unflinching. No, Mom, I won’t.
Tyler shut the door behind her, and for a moment I just stood there trying to process it. I thought I’d feel guilty, but I didn’t. I felt relief.
The next day, I got a text from Chris. Mom said she came to talk to you, and you slammed the door in her face. Real mature, Emily.
You’ve turned into someone I don’t even recognize. I read the message aloud to Tyler, who shook his head. Block him, you don’t need that.
And I did. One by one, I blocked every sibling and relative who decided to pile onto the guilt train. I realized something important that day.
I didn’t owe them my time, my energy, or even an explanation. For years they made me feel invisible. Now, I was taking control.
The weeks that followed were quiet for the first time in a long time. Without the constant messages and passive-aggressive comments, I finally felt like I could breathe. Tyler and I focused on settling into married life, decorating our little apartment and planning our future.
One night we sat on the couch, watching some cheesy movie, and Tyler turned to me. Do you regret it at all? Not having them at the wedding? I thought about it for a moment before shaking my head. No.
I thought I would, but I don’t. I spent so long trying to earn their approval, and for what? I don’t miss them. I don’t miss feeling like I’m not good enough.
He smiled and squeezed my hand. Good. You deserve better.
And he was right. I did deserve better. A month after the wedding, I got one final message.
This time, it was from Rachel’s number, sent through a different phone since I’d already blocked her. You’ve destroyed this family, Emily. I hope you’re happy.Family vacation packages
I stared at the screen for a second before deleting the message. I didn’t even feel angry anymore. I just felt done.
Because I was happy. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t chasing their approval. I wasn’t begging for scraps of love and attention.
I was surrounded by people who cared about me, and that was enough. It always had been.