I held up my hand.
“No excuses,” I said. “I’ve spent years supporting you both, loving you, being there whenever you needed me. And this is what you do?
Teaching my granddaughter to disrespect me?”
I pulled out a bag of new toys I’d bought for Brittany. “These are for her. Because no matter what you think of me, I will always love that little girl.
But things need to change. I won’t be treated this way anymore.”
Rachel sat there, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Todd slumped in his chair, looking like the little boy who used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms.
“These are the boundaries you wanted: no more financial help and no more babysitting unless I want to,” I sighed, crossing my arms.
“I think it’s time you take Brittany home. Don’t call me unless it’s an emergency.”
Slowly, they stood and left quietly, carrying their sleeping daughter and the bag of toys. I locked the door behind them and sank onto my couch, exhausted but somehow lighter.
A while later, I made myself a cup of tea and turned on my favorite show.
The house felt too quiet without Brittany’s giggles and running footsteps.
Sometimes standing up for yourself hurts, but it’s better than letting people walk all over you. I just hoped that one day, my family would understand that my love didn’t mean they could take me for granted, or that they could teach my precious granddaughter to hurt me.
Here’s another story: When my daughter-in-law threw out the Thanksgiving meal I spent hours cooking, I was heartbroken. But my 14-year-old granddaughter wasn’t about to let it slide.
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The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation.
This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
