Mom Chose Her Students While Sacrificing Me

From childhood, I was nothing more than a tool for my mother to manipulate my father. When that failed, I became an unwanted reminder of the past she wanted to erase. She poured all her love into her students, especially the brilliant Bradley, while treating me with cold indifference or outright cruelty. When Bradley developed feelings for me, it sparked the final explosive confrontation that would change everything between us forever. This is the story of a daughter fighting for the affection of a mother who could never love her.

Mom Chose Her Students While Sacrificing Me

From childhood, I was nothing more than a tool for my mother to manipulate my father. When that failed, I became an unwanted reminder of the past she wanted to erase. She poured all her love into her students, especially the brilliant Bradley, while treating me with cold indifference or outright cruelty. When Bradley developed feelings for me, it sparked the final explosive confrontation that would change everything between us forever. This is the story of a daughter fighting for the affection of a mother who could never love her.

Chapter 1 Chapter 1

From my earliest memories, my mother dragged me along to confront my dad, using me as a tool to try to bind him down. "That night was a mistake. Why did you keep this child without telling me? "Even if you had her, I'll never acknowledge her!" Mom viciously pinched my arm. I cried out in pain. "She's your daughter. How can you be so cruel?" "You're the cruel one! There was never any love between us. Using a child won't make us happy. I never liked you!" A crowd gathered, whispering and pointing. Mom seemed oblivious, crying on the sidewalk, Pinching me harder: "Useless thing! What good are you?" My wails grew louder. Dad turned and practically ran away. Mom finally let go, stood up, and walked off. Ignoring the pain, I hurried after her. I don't know when Mom's love for Dad turned to hate. For years, Mom kept me at arm's length, but I still loved her. On her birthday, I bought her earrings with money from my part-time job. I burst through the front door, elated. The living room was filled with her students. She barely glanced at me. "Go to your room. Don't interrupt their studying." Then, gently to her students: "Let's move on to the next problem." With tears in my eyes, I called out, "Mom! Mom!" No response. Her students stared at me. Mom snapped, "Stop shouting! How many times have I told you not to interrupt my lessons? I'm not your mom! Call me Miss Anderson!" Crying, I set down the gift and ran to my room. Later, I discovered the box in the trash, covered in chalk dust. I retrieved it, wiping it clean. The seal was unbroken. The card inside read "Happy Birthday Mom, I love you" and felt like a cruel joke. I thought she had forgotten her birthday. But on Facebook, I saw her post: She sat among her students, wearing the same earrings I had bought for her, frosting on her nose, beaming. The caption: "These kids are so thoughtful! They all remembered my birthday." It wasn't that she had forgotten about her birthday or that my present was not to her taste. She simply did not want anything from me. We grew apart. She forgot my birthday as well. But when I arrived home with a cake and saw the table filled with food, I welled up, thinking she had remembered after all. Perhaps Mom did love me. Then her favorite student, Bradley, walked out of the living room. Mom emerged from the kitchen with a platter of shrimp. She looked at my cake: "How did you know we were celebrating Bradley's first place in the physics competition?" It wasn't for my birthday. It was for Bradley's achievements in physics and math. Apparently, first place was worth celebrating.

Chapter 2 Chapter 2

But that person couldn't be me. In elementary school, I won first place in a math competition. The whole school competed. When I got the certificate, I raced home in excitement. I tripped and fell, but I didn't even feel the pain. I scrambled up and rushed to show Mom, eager to share my joy. Mom glanced at it, then tore my certificate to shreds. "Why are you good at math? "You're my daughter. Why are you so much like him? "So what if you're like your father? He won't love you either! "Are you trying to upset me on purpose? Why math of all things?" All because my father was a math teacher. Mom destroyed everything I had that related to math. All those tests with bright red A+'s, she threw them into the fireplace, watching them turn to ash. I cried out, but her cold voice cut through the air: "You really aren't my daughter. You're his." From that day on, my mother wasn't Mom anymore. She was Miss Anderson. And I never dared to show any talent for math again. I sat awkwardly

Chapter 3 Chapter 3

Perhaps for an unloved child, even surviving takes tremendous effort. My relationship with my mother completely shattered when Bradley confessed his feelings for me. When he stood before me, face flushed, nervously saying "I like you," I was tempted to use him to get my mother's attention. In the end, I didn't. I turned Bradley down. But he persisted, coming to our house more often, even slipping love notes into my room. One day, I came home to find my mother waiting, letter in hand. Before I could speak, she slapped me hard across the face. I clutched my cheek, bewildered. She threw the letter at me. "Bradley isn't like you. He's Ivy League material!""Your father doesn't care about you, and I can't control you. I'm not even your homeroom teacher. You could be working the streets for all I care!""But you absolutely cannot seduce my student!" Seduce? I couldn't fathom why that word came from my mother's mouth. But I refused to take the blame for something I hadn't done.