Losing my mother was one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through. We were extremely close — she was not just a parent, but my confidante, my guide, and my biggest supporter. When she passed away suddenly from a heart attack, it felt like a piece of me had been ripped away.
In the days that followed, I tried to stay strong for the family. My sister, Emily*, and I had always had our ups and downs, but I assumed we’d get through this together. After all, we were all each other had left.
But during the reading of Mom’s will, everything changed.
Mom had left her small estate evenly divided between us — her modest home, some savings, and a few personal items with sentimental value. Emily, however, didn’t seem satisfied.
She looked at me across the table and said, “You know Mom didn’t really consider you her real daughter, right?”
I stared at her in disbelief.
She went on, explaining that because I was adopted when I was six months old, Mom had apparently struggled with attachment early on. According to Emily, there were journal entries and old letters that hinted at how Mom sometimes felt disconnected from me — not because she didn’t love me, but because she struggled emotionally after infertility treatments and a difficult pregnancy with her biological child… which was Emily.
My heart sank.
Emily claimed that Mom had even considered giving me up again before settling into the role of a loving mother — something I had never heard before.
At first, I thought she was trying to justify taking more of the inheritance. But as the conversation unfolded, I realized she truly believed what she was saying — and worse, she wanted me to feel less entitled to our mother’s love and legacy.
I left the meeting in tears.
Later that night, I sat alone with my thoughts, replaying every memory I had with Mom. I remembered the nights she stayed up with me when I was sick, the way she cheered loudest at my graduation, and how she held my hand the day I got married. None of that could have been fake.
The next day, I hired a lawyer and fought for what was rightfully mine — not just the material things, but the right to be recognized as the daughter who had loved and stood by her until the very end.