"I don't speak to my mother anymore.
After my father died, my mother had an affair with my father's best friend who is married with children and his wife is good friends with my mother.
I confronted her about it a few years back, wrote her a long letter explaining that I knew everything, gave her examples of how I knew. After not hearing back from her for three weeks, I texted her asking if she has received it, and she wrote back saying, 'Yes, I hope you're ok.' Instead of admitting it and apologizing for what she had done, she denied everything to my other family members who I told and would rather drag my name through the mud and tell everyone I'm lying and make everyone think that I'm a jerk instead of being an adult and fessing up and taking responsibility for her actions. She used to sneak him into our house late at night like I wouldn't hear it or something? We lived in a crummy two-bedroom place with paper-thin walls.
I haven't spoken to her in four years, and my life is better with her not in it. She has tried to keep in contact, but I've cut all contact I don't want anything to do with her.
If I hear, 'but she's your mother' one more time, I will scream. Just because someone is blood-related doesn't make them family. I don't understand how I've come out as the bad guy when I've done nothing wrong."
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"There's my aunt who took over caring for my grandpa after my grandma died in 2000.
He moved in with her not long after the funeral. And she spent the next 10 years making it more and more difficult for anyone to see him; moving around to different places, and spending his retirement.
My mom didn't mind because she had had various falling outs with her dad and her sister, saying, 'Screw them, they're perfect for each other.'
A lot of the family on that side lives long distances from each other, and don't visit often, so she was pretty much left to her own devices.
Fast forward to 2013. Auntie calls up my mom saying, let's bury the hatchet. Dad is 95 now and wants to see his family in the few years he has left. Let's do lunch.
Fine. It had been years since they talked and things have cooled off a bit. Mom gives her the benefit of the doubt and agrees to meet Auntie, and grandpa, and another aunt who just happens to be in the neighborhood.
So they're out to lunch catching up, everything is seemingly going ok. The check comes and auntie is like, 'Oh shoot! I don't have any cash! Let me run to the ATM real quick!'
Mom is like, that's fine I've got it. Don't bother, you can go to the bank after if you need to,' aunt goes, 'Oh no no! My branch is close I'll just run there and run back. Just give me five minutes!'
Ten minutes or so go by with my mom, and other aunt making convo with grandpa and wondering what is going on, and auntie calls.
'I'm sorry, and I know this is messed up, but I just can't take care of Dad anymore. I've been doing it all for the last 10 years, and I'm just tapped out. It's going to be up to the rest of you from now on. I have a storage locker nearby with all of his stuff. It's paid until the end of the month.'
He only had $20 stuffed in his shirt pocket at that point."
"My mom was an abusive, neglectful, bipolar, intimacy fiend with Peter Pan syndrome who played an innocent woe is me single mother by day conning people into giving us money and pity and then would leave us home alone at night to go party and sleep around. We weren't even on her list of priorities. She slept with guys from 16 to 65 right in front of us with no shame, threatened to kill us/never come home on several occasions, tried many times to kill herself in front of us, but no one ever believed us because she could put on a show when other adults were around. Anytime anyone caught wind of the abuse, we moved, resulting in more than 40 moves in four years. She also beat one of my sisters and told her she hated her and she was stupid from the day she was born, and now my sister is suicidal and completely dysfunctional probably for the rest of her life.
My mom is not sorry for anything, denies everything she ever did wrong and lies to everyone about everything. She still dresses like a tramp but hopefully is slowly realizing that her chest isn't so perky anymore and literally everyone she's ever met wishes she would die.
I haven't talked to her in 10 years, but from what I hear, she is miserable and failing at everything, and I have succeeded at everything. That is the best revenge."
"My immediate family consists of my two brothers and my mother. My father died when I was 16.
Only one of my brothers still talk to me and he does that in secret so that nobody else knows we are in contact.
In November 2014, I started hormone replacement therapy (HRT). Due to this being such a big decision, I decided I should tell my mother. So, as I was living in the states, I called her and explained what I was going through and why. She had a few questions but was otherwise fine with it all.
A few weeks later, she contacted me to say that she had told my brothers, and they were both okay with it as well.
In December 2014, I got an email from my mother saying that she had booked me plane tickets to fly home for Christmas and that she had done the same for my oldest brother (who had moved to Ghana). My mother is the kind of person that wouldn't spend money on somebody else to save her life, so I thought that something serious had happened.
I arrived back in England a few days before Christmas, as did my brother, and the whole family met at my mother's house for a dinner.
At the end of the dinner, my mother got up from the table and said, 'I didn't tell them yet, so your brother has something to tell you boys' and leaves the room.
So, I tell my brothers everything and my oldest brother flips out. Tells me I'm an abomination and a freak and how he could never be associated with someone like that. My oldest brother gave me the ultimatum of not returning to the US and stopping what I was doing or I would never be a part of his family again, which would mean never speaking to any of my immediate family ever again.
This goes on for another six hours until my middle brother excuses himself to go home and offers me a ride to my hotel.
I was supposed to be staying at my mother's house but instead had my middle brother drop me off at a friend's house. I spent Christmas 2014 sleeping on a friend's couch while he was out celebrating with his family.
A couple of weeks after I got back to the US, I started getting weird messages on Facebook. I found out that my family had not only disowned me but they had posted an obituary in the newspaper and had a full-on funeral for me so people thought I was dead. There is a grave out there with my old name on it."
"I've lost contact with my great-aunt, my uncle and his wife, and my aunt over the last two years.
My great-aunt and my grandmother never got along all that well but were civil for most of my life until my great-grandmother (their mother) passed away in 2014. My great-aunt has always had issues, severe hypochondria being the most prevalent, but when her mother died she went crazy on my grandmother, who had been taking care of my great-grandmother along with my aunt and my sister almost full time for several months when she was sick and could barely leave bed, let alone the house. I wasn't around for most of the fighting, but my great-aunt accused my grandma of stealing and abuse. My grandmother ended up getting a restraining order against her, and I haven't spoken to her in nearly two years.
Early in 2015, my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer and ended up getting sick last fall. My aunt, my uncle and his wife, and my sister once again stepped up as caretakers. Unfortunately, my uncle has some real control issues and probably OCD. He ended up pushing my sister away, leaving him and my aunt as primary caretakers.
My father was not around for a lot of this. His relationship with his mother was different from the relationships she had with my aunt and uncle -- my father was born when my grandmother was 16, my aunt and uncle each had different fathers and were born 16 years later when my grandmother was considerably more stable. Because of this, and my dad's personality, he avoided my grandma's house and didn't do anything to help take care of my grandma. My aunt and uncle resented this, and that's when things got complicated-- as if they weren't already.
I graduated college and moved about eight hours from home. I had been there for two weeks when my father calls me and tells me my grandma passed the night before. He found out from my sister, who found out from her ex-boyfriend's sister, who found out because my aunt called into the restaurant where they both worked because her mother had died. So my grandma passed away and my aunt and uncle told no one -- not me, not my sister, and not my father. Here's where it gets screwed up.
My grandmother wasn't dead. Well, not yet at least. My sister called me at 6 a.m. the next morning after talking to my aunt about it. My dad still didn't know at this point. I called my aunt and demanded an explanation. I told her to call my dad and tell him right freaking now that his mother was still hanging on and he would get a chance to say goodbye. She passed away that afternoon, thankfully after my dad and sister had the chance to see her. I, unfortunately, didn't make it. I said my goodbyes before I left home a few weeks prior.
I head home for the funeral, which was a mess. My great-aunt didn't make an appearance at her own sister's funeral, which given the family history was a blessing -- how messed up is that? Anyway, my aunt and uncle gave eulogies, my father did not. My sister took offense to this, thinking that they hadn't asked my dad to give one. After the funeral, my sister had a meltdown and screamed at my aunt and uncle in the church and left with her ex, sobbing and screaming.
The truth is, my dad was asked if he wanted to speak, but he declined. He explained to me that although he loved my grandma, he didn't have much good to say about her.
Since the funeral, I haven't spoken to my uncle, his wife, or my aunt. That side of the family has all but disintegrated. I might reach out to my aunt and uncle eventually, but I think everyone needed some time after the funeral."
"I don't speak to my dad other than for health insurance and a text every once in a while. I haven't seen him for almost half a year. It all started when my parents split. My dad was caught cheating and my mother offered to stay and go through therapy to save the marriage but he declined, went to Las Vegas with his new girlfriend, and blow all his and my mother's savings on gambling. He also gambled our house which was in our grandparent's name, so now they have a house that they can't sell and have to make payments on because the house is in limbo. I would be willing to forgive all that if it wasn't for all the other crappy things he's done over the years. He took my brother to his place to spend the night and when my brother was scared and wanted to go home because my father's girlfriend at the time was a psychopath and yelled at him all the time, he wouldn't let him. My mother drove all the way to pick him up, even though it was a two-hour drive late at night. I currently have his last name but before I get married and have children, I'm changing it back to my mother's last name. I don't want my children or wife to carry that name."
"My dad. He's wealthy, lives in a condo overlooking a bay, and owns a yacht in a resort marina. He's worth a few million, at least. The feeling of not seeing him is mutual.
My mother had me because she was lonely, but my dad never wanted kids. She went off birth control and I was born. My dad almost left her, requested she get an abortion, she declined, they settled on me. But my dad always resented me. My mother became pregnant again, had my sister, but was forced to give her up for adoption.
My dad was so abusive to me as a kid that I preferred his neglect. After my addict mother took her own life when I was a teenager, my dad threw me out. I graduated high school crashing on couches. My dad quickly remarried. His wife is a kept woman, and God bless her for dealing with my dad.
My dad has seen his only grandson three times. Each time was unpleasant and barely cordial. I last saw my dad in 1998, and last heard from him in 2000 when he phoned me to say he was leaving and he refused to tell me where. I found out anyway because his wife isn't good at covering her trail.
Not only does he want nothing to do with me, I doubt he even thinks of me. My dad treats people like appliances: when he's done with you, he acts like you don't exist. I sincerely doubt I have the strength to deal with him, so I don't seek him out, but I just want to make sure where he is because I feel like turning my back to him is dangerous. I think he fears I'm after his money. I don't need his money. I have my own money.
When my wife died two years ago, I sent an announcement by certified letter. This proved his address and his wife responded in her own way, assuring me I'd remarry and find someone else. That's what my dad did, right?
Ugh. A rotten piece of work, he is."
"My mother and father divorced when I was 5 years old, and shortly after the divorce, my mother dropped off the grid for 10 years. In that time, my dad kept up appearances that my mother was a lovely woman, all the while arguing with my grandmother, who was in contact with her.
My father forced her to give up her location, wanting to give us any semblance of a normal home life, but it was vain. Carrie simply did not want to be found. I remember writing Mother's Day cards waiting for her to come home one day. When she was found by the State, she would move somewhere else and work under the table to avoid a garnished paycheck due to the huge amount of child support she owed. Whenever she tried to fight Social Services on the child support, she would refuse to show up to the court date. Eventually, she did pay child support, but it wasn't enough to cover much.
I only learned this over the years because my father told me when he lost hope she would return for her children. When I asked if he thought I was ready to know, he told me. My older sister would turn to Carrie later to spite him. Carrie would spin tales that she tried to visit but my father wouldn't allow it. That she paid child support, but we never saw a penny of it. I saw the bank statements. We received a grand total of $1.30.
When I was 14, we got home from school to find a message on the answering machine asking for us. The person signed off as Carrie. A day later, I called her because I was naïve. We talked for a few minutes, we both cried, and I asked her the big question: why did you leave and never return. The answer? She was afraid to stay and ashamed to return. She's an adult, she doesn't have the right to be afraid and ashamed like that. She has an obligation.
When she attempted further contact through email, I rebuffed her, and we argued. She claimed she was still my mother, to which I said my stepmother, Mary, was my mother. Since the seventh grade, she's loved me, cared for me as her own, right beside her daughter whom I proudly call my sister."
"My dad's brother - a thieving, lying liar who robbed and abused my grandma and was directly responsible for her death. After she passed, I cut all ties with that piece of trash. He's tried to contact my dad, my sisters, and me in an attempt to get money. He won't work and blew through his inheritance; he is utterly pathetic. Thank god for caller ID and voice mail.
My aunt- she and my uncle, different guy than the aforementioned parasite, went through a bitter divorce when I was a kid. The family took sides despite that it was my uncle's addiction that caused their marriage to collapse. She left the area and I lost contact. She was always the nicest person, or so I thought. I regret losing contact with her.
One I will definitely to discard in the future:
My cousin. Ex-con thieving parasitic jerk. I'm waiting for my remaining grandmother to pass until I cut that blight out of my life. I put up with him for my grandmother's sake.
I come from a rather interesting family."
Ignacio Yrizar Fuertes/Shutterstock.com
"My sister married a guy from Turkey. She had some kids with him and got a Master's degree in Education. She moved to Turkey and worked in a school there as an administrator for several years.
A few years later, she moved to Egypt to be the vice-principal of a school for foreign ministers in Egypt -- the school catered to stuff like foreign businessmen and dignitaries. It was a nice part of Cairo. My mom and I visited and got to do all the nice touristy stuff in Egypt with several people who spoke the language.
During the Arab Spring, however, my brother-in-law left to go help the revolution in Libya, as he had some medical training. My sister stayed with his family for a while, but eventually, she also went to Libya to follow him.
After that, we're not entirely sure what happened. Most of the kids were left with his family in Turkey. My sister eventually did return to Turkey after a while, and I've talked to her once or twice since then. She's no longer with my brother-in-law, though his family is still helping support her. He has apparently visited a few times, but not consistently. She hasn't kept in contact with those of us in the States in the last four years. She returned once about five years ago to give birth, and that was the last time I saw most of them. My oldest nephew moved back to the States about that time to go to high school and college. I think he's talked to her about as many times as I have at that time.
So it's possible she's still in the Middle East somewhere, probably Turkey. It's also possible she's living in the States again, possibly doing so under an assumed name to avoid debt (I'm pretty sure after she moved to the Middle East she never paid anything on any of the student loan, medical, or personal debt she racked up before she moved, so I'm sure she owes all kinds of places money, probably over $150,000 in debt). No one in the family has talked to her in the last four years or so, that I know of. We don't have a working email address or phone number for her and haven't for a long time."
"My grandparents had four sons and one daughter. I like to say that my mom only has two brothers.
Dave had a new will made up for my grandmother while she was on a lot of medication in her final days. He became the executor and used that power to sell her property for next to nothing to his stepsons. He then took that money and ran off.
Craig is a total piece of trash. He lived with my grandparents until they died. He never had a job unless you count selling illegal things.
Did the idiot dig a 'cave' under the house to grow illegal plants in? He sure did.
Did he do this as his folks were buying rural farm property, leaving the 40-something year old unsupervised at the old house? Of course.
Did that 'cave' cause the foundation to crack and sink and destroy the home's value as they were trying to sell it at the height of the housing boom? You better believe it.
Then he followed them out to their new property. Oh, look! It has a trailer. He claimed that. Not to live in. He was going to grow illegal plants in it. My mom had enough of that nonsense and destroyed the plants. I can still feel the rage that paralyzed me when I heard him call my mom a 'low life witch' for doing it. I'm grateful I never acted on it. He isn't worth jail time.
As my grandmother was dying, he let it be known that he couldn't wait for her end. He also claimed everything in the house as his own. He argued that he stuck around to help them all that time he lived like a parasite."
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