“In his will, he wrote that I won’t inherit anything and made a pretty big point that I am no longer part of the family and that I need to change my last name.”

I work as a Writer at BuzzFeed, creating and curating quizzes, listicles, and articles that cover everything from pop culture chaos to food trends I immediately want to try and fashion moments I can’t stop talking about.

Responses have been taken from threads 1, 2, and 3.

Disclaimer: This piece contains mention of drug abuse and sexual assault. Readers discretion is advised.

"My mother apologized to me, telling me she was sorry for sending me away that summer and that the family curse had caught me as well. Honestly, I needed to hear this because I hated her for letting this happen, but she had no way of stopping it or even knowing it'd happen to her son. It had always been something that happened to the girls but never the boys. Aren't family traditions grand? (Sarcasm.) 

We went to the cops, and because it had been so long and across state lines, there wasn't much they could do. It was my word against his. My mother's family acknowledged that stuff like this happens in their family and that I should blame the devil for this happening to me, not the person. And really, I should feel bad for him because all of this was hard on him as well. He took this time to officially come out of the closet, and they all, minus my mother, let him know how brave he was for admitting his illness. 

They subsequently blamed me for turning him gay. Keep in mind, I was still trying to process whether I was gay at this time. I was then accused of wanting to get molested and told that I needed to repent for what I had done and for trying to destroy his life. My mother tried to argue back, but at this point, it was my mother's family versus my mother and me. My mother ended up giving slightly and told them we needed time to process this. 

They let off and... We got the hell out of there and never looked back. It's been about ten years since I saw any of them. They blame my mother for raising a devil-loving son, which didn't get helped when I finally came out. The last thing they told us is that they'll let both my mother and me back in, if and only if, I admit that a nine-year-old wanted to be molested and, of course, convert back to being straight. I think they are still surprised I haven't taken them up on their offer. IDK, and IDC. My family is super small now, and I couldn't be more pleased."

"I didn't say anything because I was scared, but soon she dropped me off in front of a building with a note and all my stuff, then drove away. Luckily, someone was waiting for me outside and took me inside. 

Turns out she called an adoption center. She didn't even stay for any of the paperwork or anything. (She sent it later.) I was so scared and confused. I haven't seen her since the court hearing, and even then, she didn't even look at me. 

Before I knew it, I was disowned and had been put into an adoption center. A few years and a ton of foster homes later, when I was 10, I got adopted into the forever home I have now, and I'm very happy."

"I am the only child who has a college degree, has gotten their own job, has a stable relationship, and supports themselves. But I am the bad one. I haven't seen most of my grandparents in years. I haven't seen my oldest grandpa in about six years. I'm figuring one day I'm going to be told he died and I'm not allowed to go to his funeral. Or he'll die and I just won't be told. I haven't seen most of my cousins in years. 

My uncle threatened me as a teenager over being gay (I am in my late 20s), so when I officially came out (in my late teens), my parents stopped inviting both of us to the same events. Score +1 for my parents, I guess. I haven't seen those cousins in maybe three years. The closest collision with my uncle was five or six years ago. My dad was selling a car to him at the house, so my dad ordered me pizza and then rushed me upstairs before my uncle got there. One of my other uncles is apparently dying, and I haven't seen him in probably a decade, despite growing up seeing him two or three times a year."

"Nothing crazy or excessive by any measure. 

So, a few months later, I took some plant seeds that contain LSA (sort of like LSD-lite). While slightly tripping, I sent a bunch of strange, trippy texts to my best friend/cousin. Much to my chagrin, his mother (my aunt) demanded to read my messages and proceeded to tattle on me for this. 

I was woken up by my mother and father kicking me out. At this point, I had just turned 17. To this day, I'm nearly certain what they did was illegal. Fortunately for them, I was happy to leave without any drama. I didn't want to live with them anymore. They made me hate them, myself, and my life. In the end, I wasn't kicked out for smoking weed. I actually had quit doing so. I took some flower seeds one day and subsequently was forced into homelessness at age 17. 

I haven't really ever forgiven them for this, about ten years later. I don't think such a thing deserves forgiveness. I will never, ever, ever treat my children like that. After I was kicked out, I was lucky enough to find an older person (she was 20 or so at the time) at work, and she took me in graciously. At this point, I essentially said, “fuck it,” and went on a long, dark road to where I am now. I got heavily into worse drugs, drinking, and started smoking cigarettes (all things I had sworn I never would do). I still struggle with alcoholism and tobacco addiction to this day. I'm depressed, riddled with anxiety. There is a huge rift between my family and me that will likely never truly be repaired, and I still resent my parents for what they did."

"He's completely normal around my brother. I could at least try to understand if I'd done something “bad,” or we'd had an argument, or really if anything out of the ordinary at all had just happened, but no. It ruins so many memories and so much nostalgia. It even made me worry for a while that it affected my choice of partner. 

We held my grandad's funeral recently. Dad was there, and he wouldn't even make eye contact with me despite repeated efforts. Actually, I didn't even notice he was sitting close to us until I caught sight of him. It turns out I don't even recognize his voice anymore."

"My father's abusive habits got worse. He became an alcoholic. He was very sexist. He constantly took his anger out on me when he didn't know how to handle my mother having 20+ grand mal seizures a day while he was balancing a 40+ hour-a-week factory job with a two-hour commute each way. 

My mother pretty much died when I was 7. Once her seizures came back, she was a borderline mute, inattentive parent who hardly knew her own name or that slippers didn't go in the fridge. I didn't understand anything. I became a complete nightmare to handle. I developed some sort of anxiety disorder where I'd have night terrors, I couldn't stop thinking about traumatic events, etc. In response, my father would just drink more, say worse things, etc. 

When I was 15, I was hospitalized with something that only existed because my parents refused to take me to the doctor for two years. I haven't checked, but that probably made me infertile. Truthfully, I don't want to know. I think that's the one that really threw me over the edge, though. Literally everything in my life was out of my control. I went to great lengths to keep my brother out of harm's way. I made sure my father was always angry with me, and not him. 

I like to think I was very successful with this, but I probably was not. In the end, my father kicked me out of the house when I was 18. No driver's license, no car, no health insurance, no phone, hardly any clothes, and $100 to my name. Luckily, a friend's family rushed in and got my life into a relatively stable place. That was seven years ago, and I still tear up a bit remembering their kindness."

"They released me to my friend's house and told my mom that they'd charge her with child abandonment if she kept pushing. Her ex-best friend drove four days to get me. She signed over the ownership papers, and I’ve had an amazing dad ever since. :)"

"The cops kicked me off the property, and I never got my cat back, who I love dearly. 

I haven't spoken to my father in two years, but from what I hear, his life is going downhill because he lost his business and is getting sued by them for ripping off customers, stole all of the money from his mother's bank account, and sold most everything he owns. Now he wanders around drunk every day. 

On top of this, he wrote a fucking will because he almost had a heart attack after hearing my wife is trans. In his will, he wrote that I won't inherit anything and made a pretty big point that I am no longer part of the family and that I need to change my last name. My dad has always been an immature dickbag and is the black sheep of his family that no one talks about because of all the bad shit he has done."

"I could only come home if she was home. One day, she agreed to drive my friends and me to the movies. Well, she and I got into a small argument about something in the morning (I don't remember what), and I left and arrived home in the afternoon. She was home but wouldn't let me in. I was a 13- or 14-year-old kid (before cell phones were that commonplace). Ringing the bell, peering in the windows. She wouldn't let me in. Finally, I found an open window and climbed through, and she coldly looked at me and said, “You know, I could have you arrested for breaking into the house if I wanted to.” 

I went to live with my dad shortly thereafter. She moved away to live with a guy she met from the internet. She sponsored him to come into the country with his 12-year-old son. By the time I was 16, she was married and had moved the guy in, and bought his son new video games, travel allowance, his own apartment when he was a teenager, and wouldn't even buy me shoes. Well, she gave this guy access to her bank account, and he took all her money. Her entire life savings. All her money in the world. She lost her house and became homeless. My sister took her in at the time. My mom eventually got back on her feet a little bit and got a job. I tried to repair the relationship and be nice. Never for long. 

Finally, she had some kind of mental breakdown a few years ago when I was in my early 30s and called my office demanding I help her. Something happened at work where her mental health went sideways, and she started behaving very erratically. For some reason, when she called my colleague speaking nonsensically and rambling about me, my colleague decided to give her my number (!!) to take it up with me herself. My colleague said she felt bad after. 

So I tried to help my mom and spent all this time talking to her boss, her union rep, her neighbors, her doctor, trying to help her. And she just kept going crazy and being abusive, not willing to accept my help. 

So she disowned me when she got a better family, and then I tried to help her, but she tried to take me down with her."

"I was dragged along from one cheap motel to another by my mom, who was constantly hooking up with different men who abused her and me. At night, while she was working, I wandered the streets until she had made enough money. That was all I knew until I was put into the home of two really cool people who gave me my freedom, kept me fed and clothed, and gave me my own room."

"She used to call the police on me, claiming all sorts of things. They would turn up, see my mom being drunk and me in my room chilling, and tell her off. It was very toxic. My brother wasn't interested. He was four years older than me and just didn't care. Never visited me or my mom. I begged for help, and he was just a coward. 

One day, a friend had a room come up for rent, so I packed my stuff and just left. She was shocked and surprised, but it was the best thing. I used to try to keep in touch, but I just got abuse. Drunken phone calls and threats. I was 21 at this point and was expecting a child with my partner, so I decided I had had enough. I cut all ties. 

Cue my brother realizing my mom had lots of money from my dad's retirement and life insurance. He became my mom's best friend. She bought him everything. Effectively making a deal with the devil. And he was scared to talk to me in case she found out. Long story short, years later, it turned out my mom had throat cancer. He just didn't tell me about it until she choked and died suddenly one day. And I got left a voicemail telling me as much. 

I attended the funeral through gritted teeth. And then found out I was nowhere in the will. My brother got the lot. A substantial amount. And I never heard from him again. To this day, it's been five years since my mom died, and he just vanished. I was told I could fight it, but that wasn't me. 

I was never about the money, unlike my brother. And I live hoping he comes knocking one day and needs a kidney, so I can tell him to go away kindly."

mother alcoholic drinks alcohol from a bottle. the child is closed from the problem of drunkenness in the family. a helpless child is closed out of desperation. difficulties in the family.indifference

"In the letter, they called me a “disappointment and a failure” and disowned me, saying I wasn't welcome to be part of the family until I apologized for my egregious behavior. The real tragedy of this is that it happened while my wife was pregnant with our first child, which would be their first grandchild. It has now been almost three years, and I have never heard from them, and they have never met their only granddaughter."

"So I was a “difficult child,” as my family put it, and that turned into being a rebellious teen, especially when I started seeing a lot of the other freedoms other girls at my school had. 

When I turned 18, I was kicked out, and by 19, I had met my husband, and my family didn't approve. They eventually told me that I could either be allowed back into the family or I could be with him and get disowned. So I chose him and ended up moving across the country without anyone knowing. I didn't hear from my family (except my grandma) for about two years. Then, a family friend I kept in touch with ended up telling my family that my life was going really well. My mom started to contact me when she heard, but it took over six years for the rest of my family to even acknowledge that I was alive. 

It wasn't until my husband and I hit our nine-year anniversary and my family saw what my husband's competition was that they started to treat us like people and wanted to start talking to us and building relationships with us. I keep in touch with a few of my family members, but I keep them at arm's length. I gave up the possibility of any meaningful family bonds a long time ago, and the communication now is mostly surface-level cordialness."

"All of this is how “real” Black families act, BTW, because something something “family is all we got.” 

I, realizing the trap, immigrated to Europe, something I'd talked about for years. This was never supposed to happen because “the only way he's going to Europe is if I buy his ticket, and I'm never buying his ticket, so that's that.” I was supposed to one day “wake up” or “let it go,” or what have you, and take my rightful place “with the family.” Just kinda do the noble thing and surrender my entire future in the name of being the best son I could be. 

I was financially dependent on her at the time, but I had a friend living in Germany who'd immigrated from Chelyabinsk, Russia, a few years prior. She bought me my plane ticket, and I'd squirreled enough money away for my passport. So not only did I loophole my way out of servitude, the fact that a white woman helped me do it burned her ass even worse. 

The last thing I heard from my mother was, “Have fun with your white bitches. Don't ask me for money ever again.” Flew to Europe on December 3, 2014."

"P.S. He blocked all of my and my mother's numbers, and we only communicate through a lawyer... Who else is turning me against him?!??"

Text has been edited for length and clarity.