After my parents divorced when I was four, my dad promised nothing would change. But once he remarried Jane, who had three children of her own, I slowly faded from his world. Weekend visits turned into excuses involving his stepchildren’s activities. Concert plans were replaced by repainting Emma’s room, and he missed my hospital visit due to another commitment. Over time, I realized I had become an afterthought.
Mom, on the other hand, stayed by my side through every milestone, from late-night study sessions to school events. She worked extra shifts, helped me with homework, and learned how to braid my hair just to make me smile. When I asked Dad for help paying for a school trip, he agreed at first but later said he needed the money for his stepchildren’s birthday celebration. That moment made it clear where I stood. I stopped waiting for him to choose me.
