u/deathofaria

I’m 20 years old, and I genuinely don’t know what it’s like to have parents who make you feel loved.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt like I was an inconvenience. Not a daughter. Just someone who happened to live in the house.
My mother always seemed more interested in proving herself to my father than in actually being my mother. Every argument somehow became my fault. Every need I had felt like an annoyance. Today she looked at me and told me she hated me and would rather help children who are dying than me.
Those words shattered me.
My father has spent my whole life lying. Not little lies—lies that affected other people.
For years, my parents told my grandfather that my sibling and I were studying at an expensive private school. He believed he was paying for our education because he loved us and wanted us to have opportunities. The reality? We were attending a public school. They kept taking his money anyway.
I still think about my grandfather believing he was helping his grandchildren while he was being deceived. That memory makes me sick.
Growing up, I rarely asked for anything because I already knew the answer.
Clothes? No.
Shoes? No.
Anything that made life a little easier? No.
But somehow there was always money for hotels, parties, and whatever they wanted.
I’m studying architecture now. Anyone who knows this field knows that a laptop isn’t a luxury—it’s a necessity. My courses require software like 3ds Max, Revit, and Archicad.
I wasn’t asking for a sports car.
I wasn’t asking for designer clothes.
I wasn’t asking for a vacation.
I asked for help getting a laptop that would let me do my university work.
I even found a way to pay for it in monthly installments. I only needed their help with the process.
They refused.
Then I found out they’re selling one of their houses for a huge amount of money.
So I asked again.
Maybe this time they’d think my education mattered.
Their answer?
“We don’t have money.”
Something inside me just snapped.
It wasn’t about the laptop anymore.
It was the realization that I have spent twenty years lowering my expectations because I kept hoping that if I asked for almost nothing, maybe they would finally say yes to something.
Instead, I’ve spent my whole life watching them choose themselves over me.

I’m writing this because I honestly don’t know how people move on from this. If you’ve grown up feeling like your parents never chose you, how did you stop carrying that pain into adulthood?