The night before my medical school interview, my sister Vanessa poured bleach over my only blazer. By morning, it was badly stained and impossible to replace.
When I confronted her, she laughed and insisted it was no big deal. My parents dismissed the damage as an accident and accused me of overreacting.
Their response hurt almost as much as what Vanessa had done. Years of favoritism had taught me that my feelings would never come first in that house.
With no money for a new jacket, I put on the damaged blazer anyway. I refused to let their cruelty destroy the opportunity I had worked so hard to earn-
