Mom Said ‘Skip Christmas – You’ll Embarrass Your Brother’s Fiancée’ – Then The Forbes Cover Dropped

“Mom texted me. I still have it. ‘Victoria is nervous about differences in lifestyle.’” I said.

“That was—we misunderstood the situation.” Dad said.

“You understood perfectly. You just got it backwards. You thought I was the poor one.” I said.

“Emily, please. Jason’s engagement could be at risk here.” Dad pleaded.

I looked at Rachel, who was watching me with wide eyes. “Put Jason on the phone.” I said.

There was shuffling, then Jason’s voice. “Em? Hey, listen, I’m sorry about the Christmas thing, okay? I just—Victoria was stressed, and I thought it would be easier if…” Jason.

“If the ‘failure sister’ didn’t show up?” I finished.

“I didn’t say that.” Jason said.

“What did you say to Victoria about me, Jason?” I asked.

There was silence. “What did you tell her?” I repeated.

“I just—I said you were going through a rough patch career-wise and that you lived pretty simply.” Jason said.

“You told her I was unemployed and poor?” I asked.

“I didn’t say poor.” Jason muttered.

“What word did you use?” I asked.

There was more silence. “Struggling.” He finally said. “I said you were struggling financially and it would be awkward for you to be around her family’s wealth.” Jason.

“I see.” I said.

“I didn’t know! How was I supposed to know you were secretly running a billion-dollar company?” Jason asked.

“Because I’ve been trying to tell you for six years. You just never listened.” I said.

“That’s not fair! You never explicitly said—” Jason started.

“I told you about my VP position; Dad said it was unstable. I told you about my patent licensing; Mom changed the subject. I stopped trying to tell you things because you made it clear you weren’t interested.” I said.

“Well, how was I supposed to know it was this successful?” Jason asked.

“You could have asked once in six years. You could have asked what I was working on instead of assuming I was failing.” I replied.

Victoria’s voice was sharp in the background. “Jason, my father wants to talk to her!” Victoria.

“Just come to brunch, we can fix this.” Jason said.

“There’s nothing to fix, Jason. I’m exactly where I want to be. Merry Christmas.” I said, and I hung up.

A Chosen Family Christmas

Rachel stared at me. “Holy shit.” Rachel.

“Yeah. What are you going to do?” I asked.

“Enjoy my Christmas.” She replied.

My phone rang again. I turned it off. The rest of Christmas Day I spent offline. I turned off my phone, closed my laptop, and watched old movies.

Rachel stayed with me. She’d been uninvited from brunch too once everyone realized she was at my place instead of the family celebration.

“They’re going to lose it when they realize I chose your side.” She said, eating takeout Chinese food on my couch.

“You have a side, M?” I asked.

“You’ve been my favorite cousin since we were kids. You helped me with college essays. You listened when I came out to my parents and they freaked. You gave me business advice when I started my marketing firm.” Rachel said.

She paused. “You sent me a $50,000 check last year as investment capital when my firm was struggling. You paid it back in six months with interest after you refused to take equity. You believed in me when my own parents called it a hobby.” Rachel added.

“It wasn’t a hobby. You’re billing $400,000 a year now because of you.” I said.

“So yeah, I’m on your side. Always.” Rachel said seriously.

We watched Die Hard and ate dumplings. At 9:00 p.m., I turned my phone back on.

247 messages, 83 missed calls. I scrolled through the highlights.

“Emily, your uncle Tom wants to invest in your company. Can you connect him with your CFO?” Aunt Linda.

“Looking at $500,000 investment; let’s talk terms.” Uncle Tom.

“Bro, my friends want to know if we’re related to the Emily Ashworth from Forbes.” Cousin Mike.

Mom had 47 messages, escalating from apologetic to desperate to angry.

“We need to discuss how this affects the family. Call me.” Dad.

“Victoria’s parents left. Her dad wants to reconsider the marriage. This is your fault.” Jason.

That last one made me pause. “Rachel, look at this.” I said.

She read it and snorted. “His fault for lying about his own sister, but sure, blame you.” Rachel said.

The next message came from Jason. “Her dad said any man who would treat his accomplished sister that way has character deficiencies. They’re postponing the engagement, then. Are you happy now?” Jason.

I stared at it for a long moment. “I didn’t tell you to lie about me. I didn’t tell you to uninvite me. I didn’t tell you to be embarrassed of your own sister. You did that, Jason.” Me.

“You could have told us about the company!” Jason replied.

“I tried for six years. You weren’t listening.” Me.

“One phone call, that’s all it would have taken. One call to say, ‘Hey, I’m successful now.’ But you wanted this. You wanted to humiliate us.” Jason argued.

“I wanted to have Christmas dinner with my family. You’re the one who decided I wasn’t good enough for your fiancée.” Me.

“This is going to ruin my career. Victoria’s dad has connections everywhere; he’s going to tell everyone I’m the guy who treated his billionaire sister like garbage.” Jason said.

“Then I guess you shouldn’t have treated your sister like garbage.” Me.

He didn’t respond. Mom tried calling; I declined. She texted.

“Emily Marie Ashworth, you answer this phone right now! You’ve embarrassed this entire family! Everyone is asking why we didn’t know about your company. What am I supposed to tell them?” Mom.

“Tell them you weren’t interested enough to ask.” Me.

“That’s not fair! You actively hid this from us.” Mom replied.

“I stopped sharing after you made it clear you didn’t care. There’s a difference.” Me.

“We’ve always cared!” Mom said.

“You uninvited me from Christmas because you thought I’d embarrass Jason. That’s not caring; that’s being ashamed.” Me.

She stopped responding. Dad called; I let it go to voicemail.

“Emily, we need to talk about boundaries. You can’t just cut off your family because of one misunderstanding. We’re your parents; you owe us at least a conversation.” Dad’s message said.

I deleted it without responding. The thing about owing people: I’d spent six years trying to have conversations, trying to share my work, and trying to be seen.

They weren’t interested then. I didn’t owe them anything now.

Repayment and Reality

The week after Christmas things got interesting. The Forbes article went viral with over 2 million views.

My LinkedIn exploded with 14,000 connection requests in one week. News outlets requested interviews, and Harvard Business School wanted me for a case study.

My family’s response evolved through several stages. Stage one: Denial. This must be exaggerated. Forbes probably inflated the numbers. A billion-dollar valuation doesn’t mean she has a billion dollars.

Stage two: Justification. We were protecting her from pressure. She clearly wanted privacy. How could we have known?

Stage three: Rewriting history. We always knew she was brilliant. We supported her education. The family has always encouraged her success.

Stage four: Demanding access. This is when it got messy. Uncle Tom sent a formal investment proposal through his lawyer.

I had my lawyer respond that we weren’t accepting individual investors at this time. Aunt Linda asked if Meridian Diagnostics would sponsor her charity event; I politely declined.

Cousin Mike started telling people he was my business adviser. I had my PR team issue a statement clarifying that was false.

And then Mom and Dad showed up at my office. Marcus called me from reception.

“Your parents are here. They don’t have an appointment.” Marcus.

“Tell them I’m unavailable.” I said.