My Parents Banned Me From Christmas For Years And Only Loved My Brother. At…
The Ban from Christmas
A week before Christmas, I was finishing my travel preparations when my phone rang again, this time from my father. He rarely calls me, so I answered instantly, alarmed.
“Seline,” he said, gruffly and without greeting.
“Dad, is everything all right?”
“I’m calling about Christmas,” he stated.
“Your mother and I have been talking, and we think it might be best if you don’t come this year.”
I sat in startled stillness, my hand clutching the phone.
“Allaric’s girlfriend comes from a good family,” he added firmly.
“We don’t want anything to complicate things.”
“Complicate things?” I repeated, scarcely audible.
“What does that mean?”
“Do you understand what I mean, Seline? Allaric and Maragold are wealthy and successful. Her family has ties. We need to show her that our family is respectable.”
“But I am not?” The words came out sharper than I had intended.
“Don’t twist my words!” he yelled.
“Your brother has an opportunity for a good future here. The last thing we need is you bringing in your alternative lifestyle.”
“My alternative lifestyle?” I was very perplexed.
“Dad, I’m the CEO of a technological company. What exactly are you talking about?”
“All that independent woman stuff, the career obsession, the way you always have to one-up your brother with your so-called success.”
“So-called success?” The word struck me like a physical blow.
“You’ve always been difficult, Seline,” he said, when I didn’t react.
“You’ve always had to do things your way, never mind how it affects the family. Can you think of someone else for a moment? Think of your brother’s future.”
I sat there, phone clamped to my ear, as my father shattered every notion I had about my status in the family. I wasn’t being barred from Christmas because of anything I had done; I was being banned because of who I was.
Accomplished, independent, and unwilling to pretend I was anything less than I was.
“I understand,” I finally answered, my voice firm despite the tears threatening to fall.
“Enjoy your Christmas.”
“Good,” he said, happy that I didn’t fight.
“Your mother will call you after the holidays.”
A New Celebration
After hanging up, I sat motionless at my desk, staring out at the Seattle skyline as the winter sun set early, casting long shadows across the city. I had built this—this company, this career, this life—all on my own, without their help or support.
And it still wasn’t enough to earn a place at their Christmas table. For the first time in years, I allowed myself to cry over my family’s rejection.
Deep, gut-wrenching sobs that left me gasping for breath. I cried for the little girl who had never been enough.
The teenager who had worked herself to exhaustion trying to earn approval that would never come, and the woman who, despite everything, yearned for her parents’ acceptance. When the tears stopped, I wiped my face, squared my shoulders, and went back to work.
If I wasn’t allowed to spend Christmas at my parents’ place, I would make my own celebration. It was my first Christmas alone, and the silence was deafening.
From my rooftop apartment in Seattle, I could see the Space Needle lit up with holiday lights. I had just decorated a modest tree and a few ornaments.
Kalista, my executive assistant, sent me a note saying: “Merry Christmas, Seline. Remember, my mom’s legendary eggnog is ready for you if you change your mind about coming over.”
Kalista had been horrified when I indicated I’d be spending Christmas alone and had instantly invited me, which I respectfully declined, not wanting to intrude. Before I could react, I received another message from Oilia, my best friend since college.
“Merry Christmas! Becca, Dorian, and the kids are inquiring when Auntie Seline will arrive. The ham is in the oven and there’s a glass of wine bearing your name on it. Please tell me you aren’t spending the day alone in your antiseptic flat.”
I smiled despite myself because Oilia knew me too well. We had met during freshman orientation and been inseparable ever since.
She had witnessed firsthand my struggles with my family and had opened her own family to me without hesitation. I stared at my phone for a long time before making a decision.
I texted Oilia back: “Give me an hour. I will bring dessert.”
I quickly showered and dressed, then drove to the only open bakery to pick up a chocolate cake. As I parked into Oilia’s suburban driveway, the front door burst wide and her seven-year-old twins, Isabo and Caspian, raced out to greet me.
“Auntie Seline, did you come?” Isabo squealed.
“We thought you weren’t coming,” Caspian said, grabbing the cake box.
“Mom said you were working.”
“I finished early,” I pretended, following them inside.
Oilia’s home was the polar opposite of my minimalist apartment. Every surface was adorned with Christmas cheer.
The air smelled of cinnamon and roasting ham, and Christmas music played softly. Oilia appeared from her kitchen.
“You came!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with relief, and she hugged me hard.
“I’m so glad.”
Her husband, Dorian, came behind her, holding their two-year-old daughter, Amara, on his hip.
“About time you showed up, Seline. Oilia has been checking her phone every five minutes.”
I was enveloped in the warmth of Oilia’s family. We ate a delicious meal, opened presents—Oilia always had gifts for me—played board games with the kids, and talked and laughed by the fire.
No one asked about my work or accomplishments or compared me to anyone else. I was simply Seline, a loved and welcomed member of their celebration.
As the evening progressed, I helped Oilia clean up the kitchen.
“Thank you for today,” I murmured quietly.
“I needed this more than I realized.”
Oilia squeezed my shoulder.
“You’re family, Becca. You will always have a place here.”
A Shift in Focus
Family. The word both warmed and wounded me. When I returned to my apartment that night, my phone had a new message from Allaric, and it contained a photo of my parents’ Christmas celebration.
There they were: my parents, Allaric, and a beautiful woman who must have been Maragold, all smiling in front of the Christmas tree I remembered from childhood. The message said: “Merry Christmas. I wish you could have been here, but Maragold’s family had also joined us and it was a tight squeeze. Perhaps next year.”
My childhood home had five bedrooms and a large living and dining room, but it was never about space. I stared at the photo for a long time, noting how proud my father looked with his arm around Allaric and how my mother beamed at Maragold.
They were a picture-perfect family, and there was no room for me in the frame. At that moment, something inside me shifted.
A door closed and a window opened. If my family didn’t perceive my worth, I would stop seeking their approval and focus all of my efforts on the one thing that had never failed me: my work.
I worked more hours than ever before during the week between Christmas and New Year’s. My team was on vacation, so the office was quiet, allowing me to work without interruption.
I refined our five-year expansion plan, started discussions with potential European partners, and created a new marketing strategy. Kalista returned to work in early January and was surprised to find my office completely reorganized.
“Did you work for the entire holiday?” she inquired, concerned.
“I had a breakthrough,” I said, barely looking up from my computer.
“I think this is going to be our biggest year yet.”
In the three months that followed, Techishian Solutions signed two large contracts with Fortune 500 businesses. We confirmed our European development plans and began creating a new AI product that promised to transform the industry.
During this time, I didn’t think much about my family. My parents didn’t call after Christmas, and I made no effort to contact them.
Allaric occasionally texted me updates on Maragold, but I responded with brief, polite messages that revealed nothing about my personal life. As a result, the company thrived.
As March approached, I was fully immersed in preparations for our biggest expansion yet. We were moving to a larger office space in downtown Seattle and hiring dozens of new employees across all departments.
Techishian Solutions was no longer a startup but a major player in the tech industry, with me at the helm.
