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I Left My Toxic Parents and Never Looked Back | My Real Story | Storis For U
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Aug 3, 2025
#redditrelationship #aita #redditstories I Left My Toxic Parents and Never Looked Back | My Real Story | Storis For U This is my story — how I finally broke free from years of emotional abuse and toxic family drama. Growing up, my parents made me feel like a burden, and after one breaking point, I chose freedom over pretending everything was okay. No fancy goodbyes, just walking away with nothing but the clothes on my back. I share every raw, painful detail—from the fights and insults to the silent treatment and family fallout. This isn’t just about me; it’s for anyone who’s ever felt trapped and invisible in their own home. If you’ve been through something similar or just want to understand toxic family dynamics, this video is for you. 👉 Don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe for more real-life stories and support.
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0:00
I don't even know how to start this
0:01
without sounding like I'm overreacting,
0:04
but whatever.
0:06
I just need to get this out somewhere.
0:08
And I feel like people on here will
0:10
actually get how messed up this is.
0:13
I've always had a weird vibe with my
0:15
mom, but that day was next level. This
0:18
all started a few years ago when I was
0:20
18 and still living at home. I grew up
0:23
knowing my mom was not the warmest
0:26
person. I mean, she had her good days,
0:29
like sometimes she'd bring home my
0:30
favorite snacks or whatever, but mostly
0:32
she just acted annoyed by my existence.
0:35
My dad was always more of a background
0:37
character. He'd just sit at the table
0:38
reading his phone, barely looking up
0:40
unless my mom started yelling about
0:42
something, and then he'd just sigh or
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mutter something about responsibility.
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We weren't one of those families that
0:49
did movie nights or talked about
0:50
feelings. My parents acted like I was
0:52
this permanent inconvenience,
0:55
but whatever. I just tried to keep my
0:57
head down and not piss them off. Anyway,
0:59
I had just gotten back from school and I
1:01
already knew the exam didn't go well. I
1:03
didn't even want to look at the grade to
1:04
be honest. I was standing in the
1:05
kitchen, phone in one hand, exam paper
1:08
in the other, just trying to figure out
1:09
how to tell them I'd bombed it. My mom
1:12
was already in a mood. I could tell by
1:14
the way she kept wiping the counters
1:16
like she was mad at the crumbs. Dad was
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on his laptop, probably reading news or
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doom scrolling, pretending not to notice
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the tension. What gets me is how fast
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she snatched the paper out of my hand.
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It was like she'd been waiting for me to
1:30
mess up. I barely said two words when
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she just grabbed it and started going
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off, not even looking at the actual
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grade, just skipping straight to the
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part where she called me a
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disappointment.
1:43
She said the usual stuff about wasted
1:45
money and my lazy attitude, like I
1:47
hadn't even tried. I tried to get a word
1:50
in, like, it's not like I didn't study,
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but she just talked louder, waving the
1:54
paper in my face. She got right up in my
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space, close enough that I could smell
1:57
her perfume, and started listing all the
1:59
things I'd ruined, starting with her
2:01
being forced to have me. Then she just
2:03
said it straight up.
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I was the biggest mistake of her life.
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Every single day, she wished she'd
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aborted me. She said I'd ruined
2:13
everything she ever wanted. She said it
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in this flat voice, not even yelling at
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that point, just cold. I just stood
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there. I didn't even know what to do. I
2:24
looked at my dad and he just stared at
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me with this disgusted look. He didn't
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even try to stop her. He said, "Why are
2:32
you still here? You'll never amount to
2:34
anything."
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And then he just went back to scrolling.
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I wanted him to say something, anything.
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But he just looked away. She kept going
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talking about how she'd wanted to go
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travel. And now look at her stuck in
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this house with a son who can't even
2:49
pass a basic exam. She brought up stuff
2:52
from years ago, like the time I broke a
2:54
vase when I was six or when I got
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detention in 9th grade.
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It was like she'd been keeping a running
3:00
list. She said I was selfish, lazy, a
3:04
burden, and that she should have
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listened to her brother when he told her
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not to have kids.
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Dad chimed in saying I'd always been a
3:12
problem, that I was just like my mom's
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brother, always causing drama and never
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taking responsibility.
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He said I was just using them for food
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and a roof, and that I'd never survive
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on my own. Something just snapped in me.
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I tried to grab the paper back, but my
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mom slapped my hand away. I said, "Stop
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talking to me like that." But she just
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laughed.
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I said I wasn't going to stand there and
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take it. and she got in my face again,
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daring me to leave, saying I'd be back
3:42
in a week, begging for money. At that
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point, I just lost it. I picked up my
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phone, which was already cracked from
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before, and threw it at the wall. It
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bounced and hit the floor, the battery
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cover flying off. I turned to leave, but
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my dad stepped in front of the door,
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arms crossed. He said I wasn't going
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anywhere until I cleaned up my mess,
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meaning the phone and the mess I'd made
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of their lives. I pushed past him hard,
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and he stumbled, but didn't follow. My
4:05
mom yelled that I better not come back.
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I slammed the door after me. Outside, I
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could hear her still yelling, but I just
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kept walking. I didn't even know where I
4:14
was going. I didn't have a real plan,
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just my wallet and the clothes I was
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wearing. It was getting dark and I was
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just walking down my street, not even
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thinking about what happens next.
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I texted my friend Atlas just saying,
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"Can I crash at yours tonight? Don't
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ask." I didn't want to explain. Not yet.
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I just sat on the curb for a while
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trying to figure out if I was actually
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free or if I just made the biggest
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mistake of my life. I could see my old
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house from down the block, lights still
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on, mom's voice echoing through the open
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window. I wasn't going back. Not after
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that. Here's the thing. My mom has
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always blamed me for her life not
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turning out the way she wanted. She had
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all these plans before I was born, but
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her family pushed her to settle down,
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have a kid, do the right thing. She
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never got over that and she took it out
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on me every time she felt stuck. My dad
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just went along with whatever would keep
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the peace, but deep down he resented me
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too because I was a reminder that he
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wasn't living up to his own
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expectations.
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It wasn't about me failing a test. It
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was about them needing someone to blame.
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I sat there for a while scrolling
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through my old texts, looking at photos
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from when things were normal, if they
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ever were. My hands were still shaking,
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not out of fear, but out of pure rage. I
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didn't cry. I just felt this weird sense
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of relief like I'd finally broken out of
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something.
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I knew I couldn't just go back in the
5:39
morning and pretend it didn't happen. I
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wasn't going to let them keep treating
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me like trash just because I was their
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kid. So, yeah, that's how I left home.
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No dramatic goodbye, no packing up
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boxes, just me, my wallet, and a phone
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that barely worked anymore.
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I don't know what was going to happen
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next, but I wasn't going back. I didn't
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even care if I ended up sleeping on
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Atlas's floor for a month. At least it
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wasn't under their roof. I thought I'd
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regret it, but I already knew I'd regret
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staying more. So, the first weird thing
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was how quiet Atlas was when I showed
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up. I texted him from the curb. He just
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sent back his address and didn't ask
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anything. When I got there, his mom was
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out, which was good. I just crashed on
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the couch. Phone almost dead. No
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charger, whatever.
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I just stared at the ceiling for like an
6:30
hour, reading and rereading the texts
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from my mom that kept coming in. First,
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it was just her yelling. Then it was her
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saying I'd regret this and good luck on
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the streets. Then it turned into
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complaining about how I left my room a
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mess and how I owed her for everything
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she ever did for me.
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She said she was going to sell my stuff.
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Atlas looked over and told me to mute
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her, so I did. The next morning, I woke
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up before everyone. phone finally dead.
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So, I just sat there listening to the
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birds outside, not really thinking, just
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tired. Atlas's mom came in and saw me.
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She just nodded, pulled out some bread,
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didn't ask. That was honestly the best
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part of the week, just nobody asking
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anything. People at school noticed I
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wasn't going home. Some of them made
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comments, but nobody really tried to get
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in my business. I kept my head down and
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tried to figure out what to do next.
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Here's where stuff started to get
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annoying. My mom started blowing up my
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socials, tagging me in posts about
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ungrateful children and how parents are
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never appreciated.
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She'd post these long rants, half of
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them not even about me, but obviously
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aimed at me.
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People from our family started texting
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me stuff like, "What happened? Is your
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mom okay? Why are you making her so
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upset? Like I was the villain." I just
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sent back a screenshot of her text
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telling me she wished I was never born.
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Some of them stopped messaging after
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that. A couple of aunts said that's just
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how she gets when she's angry. Don't
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take it personal. Right. Cool. Thanks.
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My dad never texted. Not once. He just
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sat there in the background letting my
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mom do all the shouting. That's his
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style. Always has been. He used to be
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more chill, I think, but he's gotten
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colder every year. He cares about what
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everyone thinks of him, but never about
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what's actually going on in the house.
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He didn't care what I did unless it made
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him look bad. So, after a few days, I
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realized I couldn't just sit around
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waiting for them to chill out because
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they weren't going to. I went to school,
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used the library computers to start
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moving stuff around.
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First thing, I changed every password I
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could remember because I know my mom and
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she's nosy as hell. I made sure she
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couldn't get into my email, my socials,
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nothing.
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I grabbed my ID from my old backpack.
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Thank god I kept it on me and set up a
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new bank account. I didn't have much in
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there, but at least it was mine.
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I sent a group chat to my close friends
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just saying if my parents reached out,
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don't give them anything.
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Not my location, not who I was with.
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Some of them thought I was being
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dramatic, but I was done caring what
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anyone thought. Here's what really
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pissed me off, though.
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About a week after I left, my mom called
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Atlas's house. His mom picked up and I
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could hear her from the kitchen. My mom
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was crying, saying I was out of control,
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that she was scared for my safety. Could
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I please come home?
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She said I had mental health issues and
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that I needed her, that she was worried
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I'd do something to myself.
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Atlas's mom just handed me the phone and
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left the room. I told my mom I wasn't
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coming back and she immediately dropped
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the tears and started yelling again
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about how I was embarrassing her, how
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the neighbors were asking questions, how
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I was ruining everything. She said if I
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didn't come home by Friday, she'd cut me
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off and sell all my stuff. I said, "Do
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it." She hung up. That's when I decided
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I'm not letting her win. I'm not going
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to sit around feeling sorry for myself
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while she ruins my name to everyone who
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will listen. If she's going to play
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dirty, so am I. I started with the stuff
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I knew would hit hardest. My parents are
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obsessed with their image, with family
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gatherings, with looking like the
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perfect family. Every year, my mom hosts
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these big gettogethers, posts a million
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photos, brags about her wonderful life
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and how proud she is of her son. All
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fake, obviously.
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I went on her main social and commented
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on one of her public posts. Just a
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simple, "Maybe try being nicer to your
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kid next time." She deleted it in 5
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minutes. I messaged a few cousins, told
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them the real story, sent screenshots.
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Some believed me, some didn't, but at
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least the truth was out. Then I started
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thinking bigger. My parents had always
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managed all the family finances. I knew
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they were tight on money, even though
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they pretended everything was fine.
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My dad once asked me to sign some forms
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for college stuff, but I never did. I
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knew they needed me to co-sign on a
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loan, probably because their credit was
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trash. So, when they started texting me
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about important paperwork and how it
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would help the family, I just ignored
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them. I knew if I signed, they'd rack up
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debt in my name and leave me to deal
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with it. No way. They started getting
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desperate. My mom threatened to call the
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cops and say I'd stolen from them, but
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she never did. I told her if she tried,
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I'd post every message she ever sent me,
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every voicemail, every screenshot. I
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sent her a photo of my ID and my new
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address, not atlases. I wasn't dumb,
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just to prove I was fine and not hiding.
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She didn't reply.
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Dad finally texted after like a month.
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Just a short we need to talk. I told him
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if it was about money, forget it. He
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said I was being ungrateful that family
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sacrifices for each other. I said,
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"Didn't seem like you sacrificed much
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except your self-respect."
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He blocked me. Here's the part that made
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me realize they were actually worried.
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One of my aunts messaged me saying my
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parents were fighting all the time now.
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My dad was sleeping in the guest room.
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My mom was telling everyone I was lost
12:30
and needed help. My cousin Paisley said
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my mom tried to get her to talk me into
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coming home, but Paisley just told her I
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wasn't interested in fake families.
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Family group chats got weird. People
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stopped inviting my parents to stuff. I
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kept my head down, worked odd jobs,
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saved every penny.
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My parents tried to sell my old stuff,
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but it was just clothes and some random
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junk. They called about my laptop, said
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it was family property. I told them to
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keep it. I'd already wiped everything.
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What they really wanted was control, not
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the money. So, I made sure they couldn't
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get to me. I set up mail forwarding,
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changed all my important info, made sure
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they didn't have access to anything tied
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to my name. I even called the credit
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bureaus and put alerts on my accounts
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just in case I wasn't taking chances.
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The fallout was weird. I started running
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into people at school who'd heard I'd
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gone off the rails or that I was in
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trouble. I just laughed it off. Some
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people said I was a jerk for going
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public, but I don't care. I want people
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to know what really happened. My parents
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want everyone to think they're victims,
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that they just have a weird son. But I'm
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not playing that game. They want to
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control the story, but I'm not letting
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them. Now, it's been a while, and I'm
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still figuring things out. But I know
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they're hurting. I hear from cousins
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that they're barely scraping by. They
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can't refinance the house, can't get
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loans, can't host their perfect family
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dinners because people know the truth
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now. My dad's pride is shattered. My
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mom's reputation is trashed. If they
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wanted me to pay for their
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disappointment, I'm making damn sure
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they're paying. And then yesterday, I
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got a voicemail from my dad crying. I
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haven't listened to it. I don't need to.
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I know what it says. It's too late. I
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didn't get what I wanted back then. I
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didn't get a perfect family, but I got
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something better. I got freedom. I got
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peace and I got to choose who my family
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is. It's not about them anymore. It's
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about me. What would you have done?
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Would you have stayed and tried to fix
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things? Or would you have walked away
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and never looked back? Let me know in
14:41
the comments below. And don't forget to
14:43
like, share, and subscribe to hear more
14:46
stories like this. Thanks for listening.