Hello, everyone. I need to share something that has weighed heavily on me. A few years ago, I graduated, a day I had worked so hard for and was incredibly proud of. I was excited to share this milestone with my family, especially my parents. However, their absence that day has haunted me ever since.
As I sat among my classmates, I kept scanning the crowd for my mom and stepdad, convinced they were somewhere in the sea of faces. “They’re probably running late,” I kept telling myself. When my name was called, I walked up to the stage, hoping to see their faces in the crowd, but they were nowhere to be found.
After the ceremony, I received a message from my mom: “Sorry, we couldn’t make it. Something came up with your stepsister. We’ll celebrate later. Congrats!” My stepsister Iris had thrown a tantrum over a broken nail. Anger, hurt, and disbelief swirled within me.
When I confronted my parents at home, they casually explained, “Your stepsister broke a nail. She was inconsolable.” I realized their priorities were skewed. In my anger, I packed my bags and left to stay with Justin’s family, who welcomed me warmly.
Years later, at my college graduation, I hoped my parents would redeem themselves. Once again, they were absent, missing the ceremony because Iris wanted a specific cake. Despite their repeated disappoin
