Losing someone you love is a weight you carry forever. When cancer took my mom at ten, she left me with memories, her favorite vanilla scent, and a trust fund she worked hard to create for my future. Her one request: “Never let anyone dim your light, Iris.”
But my dad’s remarriage changed everything. His stepdaughter, Emily, always came first—birthday laptops for her, gift cards for me. Worse, he drained Mom’s trust fund for home repairs, pageants, and a luxury car for Emily, dismissing my objections with empty reassurances.
The final straw came when he skipped my college graduation for Emily’s pageant. I stood up for myself, demanding he repay the fund. With my grandparents’ support and legal intervention, the money was returned, but the damage was done.
Moving to my grandparents’ home brought peace. With their help, I started grad school, carrying Mom’s values with me. Through all the battles, I kept her promise: I wouldn’t let anyone dim my light.
