Thanksgiving Day dawned, and like every year, I, Sarah Miller, had toiled alone since dawn, preparing a lavish feast for my ungrateful family. As we finally sat down to eat, my mother, Eleanor, announced her estate plans: her house, her cabin, and all her savings went to my brothers, Mark and Ben, and their families, while I was simply assigned, openly, the "daughter's duty" of becoming her live-in caregiver. My brothers chimed in, echoing how it "made sense" because I was "good at taking care of people" and didn't have a "demanding job," effectively erasing my sacrifices and our own family' s small life. Years of quietly giving everything, from quitting my job to care for my father alone, to secretly funneling our meager savings to my brothers, culminated in this brazen dismissal of my worth, leaving me with a bitter, burning question: what exactly had my mother ever done for me, besides exploit and ignore me? As their smug faces expected my silent submission, something inside me snapped, and with a guttural cry, I heaved, sending the entire Thanksgiving dinner-turkey, mashed potatoes, shattered china-crashing to the floor, marking the explosive end of my servitude and the beginning of my fight for freedom.
Thanksgiving Day dawned, and like every year, I, Sarah Miller, had toiled alone since dawn, preparing a lavish feast for my ungrateful family.
As we finally sat down to eat, my mother, Eleanor, announced her estate plans: her house, her cabin, and all her savings went to my brothers, Mark and Ben, and their families, while I was simply assigned, openly, the "daughter's duty" of becoming her live-in caregiver.
My brothers chimed in, echoing how it "made sense" because I was "good at taking care of people" and didn't have a "demanding job," effectively erasing my sacrifices and our own family' s small life.
Years of quietly giving everything, from quitting my job to care for my father alone, to secretly funneling our meager savings to my brothers, culminated in this brazen dismissal of my worth, leaving me with a bitter, burning question: what exactly had my mother ever done for me, besides exploit and ignore me?
As their smug faces expected my silent submission, something inside me snapped, and with a guttural cry, I heaved, sending the entire Thanksgiving dinner-turkey, mashed potatoes, shattered china-crashing to the floor, marking the explosive end of my servitude and the beginning of my fight for freedom.
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