The Spare Child: Choosing My Own Family
For a very long time, I have always known that my parents love my oldest sister, Vicki, more than me. She was the planned child, the grand debut of their parenting journey. I was the result of an accidental pregnancy just ten months later—a footnote they hadn’t bothered to edit out. They probably didn’t even want me, but decided to keep the pregnancy anyway, perhaps out of obligation or guilt.
My mother’s parents had passed away before I was even born, but my dad’s parents were very much alive. So, they took on a significant role in my upbringing. Grandma and Grandpa were the constants in my life, providing the love and support that I often felt lacking from my own parents. I remember so many instances when my parents would leave me behind with my grandparents and only take my sister on trips. Disneyland, beach vacations, camping—Vicki went everywhere. I stayed in the guest room at Grandma’s.
When I was young, I didn’t mind because it was fun living with my grandparents. They baked cookies and let me stay up late watching old movies. But as I started to grow up, like when I was six or seven years old, I realized just how unfair this was. I wasn’t special; I was spare.
But my problem wasn’t just with my parents; it was also with my sister, Vicki. While I harbored no ill will towards Vicki initially, I couldn’t help but feel like an unwanted addition to the family. She knew that as well and made me feel like a stranger every day in my own home.
Chapter 1: The Shadow and the Stranger
Vicki would always compete with me for everything, be it grades, attention from our parents, or even the smallest accomplishments. It felt like a constant battle for validation, and I was always on the losing end because my parents preferred her. Always. As a result, I would feel really inferior, and we never quite saw eye to eye. Our relationship seemed more like a perpetual contest with her consistently coming out on top.
On one occasion in middle school, she wanted to be friends with a popular group of girls. But because she was awkward and came off as desperate, she was afraid to approach them. One of the girls, Sarah, had art class with me, and we had bonded over our shared hatred of charcoal smudges. Sarah introduced me to the rest of the group, and we all started hanging out together.
Vicki was so jealous of this that she went straight to my parents. She spun a tale about how I was excluding her, how I was being mean. My parents sat me down at the kitchen table that night.
“You need to include your sister,” my mother said, crossing her arms. “It’s selfish to keep friends to yourself.”
“But they’re my friends,” I protested. “She doesn’t even know them.”
“She is your sister,” my dad said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You look after her. Period.”
Begrudgingly, I agreed and introduced Vicki to the rest of the girls. Now, Vicki doesn’t really have a lot of social grace. She can come off as overenthusiastic, almost aggressive in her need to be liked. She would constantly try to impress the girls in our group, often coming across as intrusive. Despite her efforts, she struggled to find her place among them, and the awkward tension between Vicki and the other girls was always palpable.
For example, one of the girls had a crush on a guy named Jake. So, Vicki took it upon herself to approach Jake during lunch and let him know—loudly—that the girl liked him. He laughed because he was not interested, and then he went and told everyone about it. The girl was mortified.
After this, the girls pulled me aside near the lockers. “Look,” Sarah said gently. “We like you. But we really don’t want you to bring Vicki anymore. She’s… a lot.”
I agreed. I was relieved, honestly.
However, Vicki wasn’t having it. She threw a tantrum when she found out that the girls wanted nothing to do with her. She went back to our parents, sobbing about how I had turned “her” friends against her.
My parents lectured me again. They told me that Vicki had no ill intentions, that I should try to convince the girls to forgive Vicki, and that if they didn’t, then I should cut them off.
“If they won’t accept your sister, they aren’t real friends,” my mom declared.
I refused. I put my foot down. “I like hanging out with them,” I said, my voice shaking but firm. “It isn’t up to me to find friends for Vicki. She ruined it herself.”
My parents were pissed and gave me the silent treatment for weeks. But I am glad I stuck to my guns. This group of girls has continued to be my friends until today. They are basically like my sisters. I have cried with them, laughed with them, and shared some of the most meaningful moments of my life.
However, at that time, it was really hard for me to stand firm in my decision. There were moments when doubt crept in, when I questioned whether I had made the right choice in prioritizing my own happiness over what my family demanded.
Chapter 2: The Punch
This was not the only reason Vicki grew to hate me. There was also another incident involving a boy. She had a crush on a guy named Mark. I had no idea about him; Mark and I just sat together in Biology because our last names started with the same letter. We were friendly, nothing more.
Mark tried to ask me out for junior prom. I declined politely since I was already going with someone I liked. Later, when Vicki found out, she made a huge hue and cry about it, telling my parents how I always take things she wants and that I was knowingly flirting with Mark for months just to spite her.
She called me a bunch of nasty words which no one should say to their own sister and told my parents how she wished I was not her sister. My mother sided with her, telling me how it was wrong of me and as a sister, I should respect “Girl Code.”
“I wasn’t even interested in him!” I yelled. “I said no! She can ask him if she wants!”
But Vicki refused to let it go. Looking back, I think she knew Mark would have rejected her anyway, so she just wanted to take her frustration out on me since he asked me instead of her.
A few weeks later, my dad took me out for ice cream. He told me he wanted to spend some “father-daughter time” with me. Now, this never happened, so I was really pleased. I thought maybe things were changing.
However, halfway through my mint chocolate chip, he started asking me a bunch of weird questions.
“Are you and your boyfriend… careful?”
“Does his family have money?”
“Have you ever done drugs with him?”
I was taken aback. “Dad, what? No! We just watch movies and study. What is this?”
This is when my dad revealed that Vicki had been making up stories and telling my parents for months that I was doing drugs and drinking alcohol with my boyfriend. That I was sneaking out. That I was “wild.”
This was a complete lie. I showed my dad my phone, my texts, my grades. I offered to take a drug test right then and there.
Later, when my dad confronted her about all the lies, she tried to justify it. “No one our age just hangs out with a guy! She’s lying! She’s hiding things from everyone!”
I was so pissed that I yelled at her. “You are just trying to make unnecessary drama because you’re miserable! It isn’t my fault that you have no one to date! Keep your nose out of my business!”
Vicki didn’t like it. Her face turned red, her eyes went wide, and then—she punched me.
Right in the face.
This happened out of nowhere since she had never been physically violent before. My nose started bleeding immediately. I fell down on the ground, clutching my face in pain, blood dripping onto the carpet.
My parents rushed me to the emergency room, but all the while they were driving, they were pleading with me.
“Please don’t file a police complaint against Vicki,” my mom begged, looking back at me from the passenger seat. “It would ruin her life. She didn’t mean it. She just snapped.”
While I was sitting in the backseat clutching my face, Vicki sat next to me, scrolling on her phone. She didn’t even care. She didn’t apologize.
Later, when the nurse asked me about the incident, I told her the truth. “My sister punched me.”
The nurse called CPS.
My parents were furious with me for “betraying family loyalty.” In their eyes, Vicki’s actions were dismissed as a mere accident, an isolated incident that should not warrant such drastic intervention. They pleaded with the authorities, insisting that Vicki was not a danger to me.
In the end, Vicki was let go with a warning, but CPS warned my parents that they would keep a close eye on our situation.
As you can imagine, Vicki was really shaken up, and so were my parents. Later, they sat me down and told me that they were disappointed in me for trying to ruin my sister’s life. My mother started to cry and told me how I was tearing the family apart by involving outsiders.
“I wanted to be safe,” I said, my voice dead. “She punched me.”
“It was one time!” my dad shouted.
I told them firmly that I wanted Vicki out of my life. And for the first time, I felt safe at my own house because Vicki, terrified of the legal consequences, stopped talking to me altogether.
When my grandparents found out about this incident, they were horrified. They asked me to pack my bags so I could live with them for the remainder of high school. They informed my parents, who did not protest much. I think they were relieved to have the “problem child” gone so they could focus on comforting Vicki.
Chapter 3: The Graduation and The Silence
Leaving to live with my grandparents was the best thing that ever happened to me. Unlike my parents’ place, I felt safe and loved there. The remaining days of high school went well, and I made lasting memories with my friends.
My parents never once visited me or called me throughout all that time. I knew they were happy with their beloved daughter, so I never tried to contact them, even though it hurt me that they could so easily discard me like I was nothing.
When I was graduating high school, my parents only showed up to cheer for Vicki. They sat on her side of the aisle. They didn’t even congratulate me or approach me after the ceremony. It felt like I was just a stranger to them.
However, my grandparents were there. My grandmother wore her best dress, and my grandfather scolded my parents in the parking lot for being so blatantly obvious about their favoritism. I don’t know what my grandfather told them, but my dad later approached me awkwardly and mumbled, “Good job.”
Later, I found out that I was accepted into a good college with a full scholarship. I was so happy about it because I was dreading asking my parents for any financial help. I informed my grandparents, and they offered to take me out to a nice restaurant for dinner.
After dinner, my grandmother posted pictures of me on her Facebook account, writing a long caption about how proud she was of me for being such an exceptional student. Our relatives soon found out about it, and they chimed in, congratulating me in the comments.
I guess some of them might have reached out to my parents, who had no idea about all this. Instead of feeling happy about it, my mother called me the next day.
“Vicki has locked herself in her room crying,” she hissed over the phone. “She hasn’t been accepted by any college yet. You are knowingly trying to make your sister feel bad about her grades by talking to all our relatives.”
“I got a scholarship, Mom. Grandma posted it. I didn’t do anything to Vicki.”
“You pushed her into bad grades with that CPS stunt! This is all your fault!”
I was so unbelievably heartbroken that my own mother could blame me for such a thing. That was the last time I talked with her for a very long time.
Chapter 4: A Life of My Own
My grandparents helped me move into my college dorm. Due to my high school boyfriend’s college being far away, we had broken up. So, I went into college single and ready to embrace the next chapter of my life with newfound independence and determination.
This is where I met Rob.
We were both freshmen, and we both spent half of our days in the library. Rob was unlike anyone I had ever met before. His quiet demeanor and studious nature mirrored my own, and we quickly found common ground in our shared love for academia. As the weeks turned into months, our friendship blossomed into something deeper.
Being an extrovert, I was quite upfront about my feelings for Rob, and I was surprised to know that he felt the same way. We started going out and have been going eight years strong.
My grandparents have met Rob, and they absolutely adore him. I have met Rob’s parents, who literally treat me like their own daughter. On occasion, Rob’s mother has even confessed to me how she has always wanted a daughter, so she is glad that Rob met a wonderful person like me.
To be honest, this is the first time I have been surrounded by family members who like me and don’t actually resent me. I have told Rob stories of my childhood growing up, and he listens to me with empathy and understanding.
Throughout these last eight years, my parents have hardly contacted me except to send me an occasional birthday text—if they remembered. But that is it.
Recently, Rob and I got engaged. He proposed to me while we were trekking to our usual spot to watch the sunrise, and it was a dreamy proposal. It was so sweet how nervous he was to pop the question to me, and I had no doubts in my mind when I accepted.
I posted pictures of my engagement on my Instagram and also informed my grandparents about this. They were so happy for me.
I guess the news must have spread, because my parents called me out of the blue to congratulate me.
I thought it was just a casual conversation since we had not talked for years. They asked me about my life, my job, my apartment. Then, my dad asked straightforwardly:
“Can I walk you down the aisle?”
I was taken aback by his sudden question. Just a few moments ago, he didn’t even have an idea about which company I worked for.
“I… I haven’t thought about it yet,” I stammered.
“Well, it would be embarrassing if you didn’t ask me,” he said, his tone shifting back to that demanding father I remembered. “People will question us about it. So it’s better if I walk you down the aisle.”
I scoffed. “I don’t even know if I’m inviting you to the wedding, Dad. We haven’t spoken in years.”
This pissed my parents off. My mother started to tell me how disappointed she was by my response, emphasizing the importance of family and tradition. She went on to tell me how they would always be my parents no matter what and that I should let bygones be bygones.
Part of me was tempted to listen to my parents and accept my Dad’s offer because I did want our relationship to be mended. But another part of me hesitated, wary of opening myself up to potential disappointment and hurt again.
However, I was going to be entering a new chapter of my life in a few months. So, reluctantly, I told my dad that he could walk me down the aisle. He seemed overjoyed.
Chapter 5: The Bachelorette Debacle
During the wedding planning, I reached out to my high school girlfriends—Sarah and the gang—who I had always stayed in touch with despite the physical distance. I told them how I wanted the gang back together and that I wanted them to be my bridesmaids. There were a lot of happy tears and congratulations, and without hesitation, they accepted.
Together, we all planned to go to Vegas to celebrate my bachelorette party. We posted a bunch of pictures from the party, and overall, everyone had a lot of fun.
However, when I came back home, my parents called me. They were furious.
“We are very disappointed that you didn’t invite Vicki to your bachelorette party,” my mom said, her voice icy.
“There was no way I would have involved Vicki,” I said, exhausted. “I don’t want her to be a part of my life.”
“She is your sister!” my mom shouted. “She has been looking forward to meeting you after she found out you were getting married!”
“What gave her that idea?” I asked, confused. “We haven’t spoken since she punched me in the face.”
My parents brushed my concerns aside, saying “this is not how sisters behave.”
“I understand where you’re coming from,” I told them. “But you have to understand that my relationship with Vicki is complicated. After everything that’s happened—the lies, the violence—I just don’t feel comfortable having her be a part of my wedding. She has not even once apologized to me.”
My dad insisted that our relatives would talk about why my sister wasn’t invited, and this would cast a negative light on my wedding.
“I am okay with people talking behind my back,” I said firmly. “My fiancé and my in-laws know the truth. That’s all that matters.”
In the end, we agreed to disagree. My parents told me how they needed to “think things over,” and we ended our conversation there.
I did inform my grandparents about this as I felt a bit guilty for standing up to my parents. They completely had my back. My grandparents told me that I should not force myself to invite anyone I didn’t want there and that my parents were, as usual, trying to guilt trip me.
Since this conversation, I have been feeling a bit better about my decision and got distracted with my wedding planning since my wedding is fast approaching.
Chapter 6: The Ultimate Betrayal
Last week, my dad called me.
“We have thought long and hard,” he said. “And your mother and I will no longer be attending the wedding.”
I froze. “What?”
“This also means I will not be walking you down the aisle.”
“Is there… is there a reason?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts.
“Vicki is moving to a new apartment that weekend,” he said matter-of-factly. “We helped her find it. Since you are excluding her from the wedding, she has decided to host a housewarming party that same day. We will be attending that instead.”
I felt a mix of shock and disbelief wash over me. The realization that my own sister’s housewarming party took precedence over my wedding was a bitter pill to swallow. It exacerbated the sense of hurt and betrayal that I had always felt for years.
“I understand,” I said simply. And I hung up the call.
When I informed Rob, he was furious. “How can they be so insensitive?” he raged. “They begged to be invited, and now they ditch you for a housewarming?”
He was the one who gave me the idea. “Ask your grandfather,” Rob said. “He and your grandmother were the ones who were actually there for you.”
I agreed. I called up my grandparents. Tears welled up in my eyes as I spoke.
“You and Grandpa have always been there for me,” I said, my voice choked with emotion. “You’ve been more than just grandparents to me. You’ve been like parents. And I can’t imagine anyone else I’d rather have by my side on my wedding day.”
My grandparents didn’t even hesitate before saying yes. They told me how honored they would be to walk me down the aisle and that, unlike my parents, they would not disappoint me.
With my grandparents by my side, I knew that I had a family who loved me unconditionally and accepted me for who I was, flaws and all.
My wedding is in two days.
Today, I woke up to several missed calls from my dad. I called him back thinking it was an emergency.
“Is it true?” he demanded. “Are your grandparents walking you down the aisle?”
“Yes,” I said. “That is true.”
My dad went off. “This is disrespectful! I declined to come to teach you a lesson, not so you could replace me! We raised you! We paid for your food!”
“Grandma and Grandpa raised me,” I said quietly. “You just housed me.”
He yelled at me about how I had done nothing but alienate everyone and that this was all my fault.
Since this conversation, I have been wondering if I really did something wrong here for asking my grandparents to walk me down the aisle.
Chapter 7: The Wedding and the Email
Update 1:
Wow, I did not expect so many people would comment on my post. I have seen a lot of advice and suggestions on how I should approach this situation. I do agree that I need to cut off my parents permanently. Their constant back-and-forth is exhausting and is starting to affect my mental health. I don’t want them in my life when they have consistently shown me that Vicki is always their first priority. My parents are indeed selfish, and I have known that for a long time.
However, for my mental peace, I have no choice but to do this so I can enjoy my wedding tomorrow.
Update 2:
Sorry for the lack of update this past month, but I have been quite busy since my wedding.
First of all, yes, my wedding went quite well! With my grandparents by my side as I walked down the aisle, despite the absence of my parents, I felt a deep sense of joy. My girlfriends and I danced the night away.
During the reception, I did feel a twinge of sadness at the realization that my parents were not there to share in this special moment, especially as I watched Rob’s parents give speeches. However, I took solace in the knowledge that I had made the right decision for myself.
Rob and I went for our honeymoon, which his parents paid for as a wedding gift. I feel so giddy every time I look at Rob and realize that he is married to me now.
As I had mentioned earlier, I did cut off my parents by blocking them from everywhere. I have no idea whether Vicki actually had a housewarming that day or it was just an excuse for my parents to not attend my wedding, but at this point, I don’t care.
Update 3:
So, I was not going to update anything further, but something unexpected happened.
I haven’t checked my email in the past month, but today I found an email from Vicki. I don’t even know how she found out my email address.
Inside was a lengthy message expressing her regret over our strained relationship. She acknowledged the mistakes she had made in the past, admitting that she had been selfish and immature. She apologized for the pain she had caused me over the years. She went on to write how she feels happy for me now that I’m married and that she wishes me nothing but the best.
She ended the email pleading that I should not punish my parents by cutting them off and that they missed me.
Reading her words, I felt a mix of emotions—surprise, skepticism. Part of me wants to believe that Vicki has truly changed. But another part of me remains guarded because this seems too good to be true.
However, regardless of what she has written, I know for sure my parents don’t miss me. Because if they had, they would not have treated me this way all these years.
I decided against sending a reply. Forgiveness isn’t something to be rushed. And while I am not sure if I’m ready to forgive Vicki, I don’t want to completely burn the bridge either.
To be honest, after my marriage, I no longer feel alone. I have learned to recognize that I have my loving husband by my side, supportive friends, and the unwavering love of my grandparents. And with their support, I know that I can navigate whatever challenges lay ahead without ever needing Vicki or my parents in my life.
I have also looked into it and have found a good therapist with whom I have booked my first appointment. I have taken this step so I can address and resolve any wounds from my past and heal from them.
Thank you all for listening.
