Dysfunctional families affect the quality of life of each of the members, especially the children. These troubled relationships cause chronic feelings of guilt, shame, or worthlessness, as well as attachment issues.
The teenager who shared her story on Reddit some time ago comes from such a family where the father is basically absent from his children’s lives despite living under one roof with them.
She took to the Reddit thread AITA to explain that it was her mother who took care of her and her siblings while the father wasn’t really involved in their upbringing.
One day, as he got home and left his mobile phone on the table, OP could read the message that he received at that moment which said, “last night was amazing, can’t wait to see you again” and some emojis.
After thinking about it for a short time, she decided to tell her mother that her dad was cheating on her. “She got pretty emotional which I felt bad about, and told me not to worry and that I should just worry about being a kid and let her take care of the rest, so I just let it go cause I didn’t want to hurt her more.”
One evening, the entire family gathered for dinner at OP’s grandfathers. There, her cousin shared the news that she started a new job. Everyone was pleased with the news, but then OP’s father told OP that she should be more like her cousin because she wasn’t any good according to him. But he didn’t stop there. In fact, he continued shaming OP telling her she should focus more on school and a lot more.
At one moment he mentioned that OP lacked respect for him, and that was the final straw.
At this point, OP had it enough. “Hard to respect you when you openly cheat on Mom and don’t even try to hide it,” she said in front of everyone.
The room went silent at first, but then her father started yelling both at her and her mother. The mom then took her kids and told her husband she shouldn’t be returning home.
Once home, OP started receiving text messages from her relatives who accused her of ruining the evening and the family. Her mom, however, told her “that she understood my frustration and I probably should have expressed it better privately but what’s done is done.”
Redditors were quick to comment that OP was NTA.
What are your thoughts on this?
I Decided to Teach My Stepson a Lesson When I Got Tired of Him Littering Everywhere
A couple of weeks ago, I finally moved in with my husband, which was supposed to be the beginning of a wonderful chapter in our lives. I had no idea that my husband’s 15-year-old son from a previous marriage, named Dave, would prove to be a difficult obstacle to overcome. Though I knew there would be some period of adaptation, I did not expect such an attitude towards my efforts to make the house our cozy place in the form of piles of garbage that Dave, as if on purpose, left scattered throughout the house.
At first, I thought it was a temporary situation, perhaps a teenager’s version of chaos. But days turned into weeks, and the mess only seemed to grow. Empty chip bags, crumpled papers, and discarded clothes adorned every corner of our once-pristine home. It was as if a tornado of teenage negligence had swept through, leaving behind a debris field that would shock even a loving mother.
My comments and requests for cleanliness had no effect on him at all. It was like talking to a wall. I wanted to stop this and somehow decided to act outside the box.
One day, when Dave left for school, I came up with a plan. I was going to defeat this trash invasion, which required a strategy that went beyond mere words. Wandering around the house, armed with trash bags and determination, I picked up every piece of clutter that had settled into our home. I was on a mission to teach Dave a lesson in responsibility.
His room, the center of chaos, was my first target. When I walked in, I was greeted by clothes strewn across the floor, a maze of crumpled papers, and a collection of half-empty soda cans. Without pleasure, but with a feeling of determination, I began to put all the items that were scattered in garbage bags. Papers, cans, his clothes, everything was packed into the bags together. In the end, the room gradually turned from a disaster zone into something resembling order. I packed all the scattered clothes with other trash in a bags.
A similar fate befell the living room, kitchen, and even the bathroom. It was a time-consuming task, but I was sure that if words could not reach him, perhaps these bags would show him how much of a mess he left behind.
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