My Parents Banned Me From Christmas For Years And Only Loved My Brother. At…

Standing My Ground

Before I could react, the door opened and my parents entered my office. My father, Edmund, walked in first, his face set in the severe expression I remembered from childhood scoldings.

And my mother, Isolda, followed, her eyes darting about the huge corner office with obvious surprise.

“Seline,” my father began without a prelude.

“What does this mean? You embarrassed your brother at a job interview. Is this some sort of revenge?”

I stood there, retaining my professional demeanor.

“Hello Dad, Mom. Please take a seat. This does not have to be confrontational.”

“Don’t tell me how this needs to be!” My father screamed, still rising.

“Allaric tells us you ambushed him, asked him impossible questions, and made him look incompetent!”

“I did nothing of the such,” I said quietly.

“Allaric sought for a top position at my company without knowing I was the CEO. The questions he was asked were standard for all candidates applying for that position.”

My mother, who had taken a seat next to Allaric, asked: “What is your company? Are you the CEO here?”

She gazed around the office again, admiring the awards on the wall, the view of the Seattle skyline, and the obvious signs of success.

“Yes, Mom. I started Techishian Solutions six years ago. I’m the CEO and main shareholder.”

I couldn’t keep the pride out of my voice. My father brushed it away impatiently.

“That isn’t the point. The point is Allaric needs this job and you have the ability to aid him. That is what family does.”

“The position Allaric applied for requires technical skills and experience he doesn’t have,” I told him.

“It wouldn’t be fair to other candidates or to the company to hire someone unqualified because of family connections.”

“So you’re unwilling to aid your brother?” my father demanded, his voice rising.

“After everything we’ve done for you!”

Something inside me snapped at those words.

“What have you done for me?” I repeated, my voice dangerously quiet.

“And what precisely would that be, Dad?”

My father was surprised by my tone.

“We raised you, educated you.”

“No,” I said, stunning everyone in the room, including myself.

“You reared me but did not teach me. I worked three jobs to pay for college, and you paid for Allaric’s expensive university.”

“You’ve never supported my profession, expressed interest in my accomplishments, and most recently barred me from attending Christmas because you feared I’d humiliate you in front of Allaric’s girlfriend.”

“That’s not what happened!” my mother exclaimed.

“It’s exactly what happened,” I stated firmly.

“Dad contacted me a week before Christmas and told me not to come because Allaric was bringing Maragold and you wanted to show her family that you were respectable. Those were his exact words.”

Allaric looked uneasily at our parents.

“I didn’t know about that,” he muttered quietly.

“Of course you didn’t,” I told him.

“You were too busy sending me photos of the Christmas celebration I was excluded from.”

My father’s face had turned scarlet.

“This is absurd. We’re getting off subject. The problem here is the job.”

“No, Dad,” I interrupted again.

“The problem here is much larger than a job. The problem is that I’ve always been considered as inferior to Allaric.”

“I’ve worked really hard to build this firm, to create something significant, and not one of you has expressed true interest or pride in what I’ve accomplished.”

A knock on the door broke the strange silence that followed. Eloan and Kalista entered with professionally neutral statements.

“You wanted us to join you, Seline?” Eloan stated.

“Yes, thank you,” I responded, grateful for their attendance.

“Mom and Dad, this is Eloan Price, our HR director, and Kalista Rowan, my executive assistant. They’re here to help us clarify our hiring procedures.”

My father frowned at the visitors.

“This is a family matter.”

“Actually,” I answered firmly.

“This started as a professional issue. Allaric applied for a position with my company. The fact that we are related does not affect our employment policies or procedures.”

Eloan moved ahead.

“Mr. Drayton, we have a rigorous and fair hiring process. All candidates are evaluated using the same criteria. The job description clearly outlines the exact technical abilities and expertise required for the senior project manager position.”

My father turned back to me and said: “You are the CEO. You may make an exception.”

“I could,” I said.

“But I won’t. My company’s success is dependent on placing the right individuals in the appropriate positions.”

“Allaric is not qualified for a senior position.”

“Is that it?” my father demanded.

“You’re abandoning your family?”

“No,” I answered, my voice firm.

“I am upholding the professional integrity of the organization I founded.”

“However,” I added, looking at Allaric.

“We do have entry-level roles in the marketing department that may be suitable. You would have to start at the bottom and work your way up, learning the essential skills along the way, but there would be room for advancement.”

Allaric appeared upset.

“Entry level? I have five years of marketing experience!”

“Yes,” I acknowledged.

“But not in technical project management at our company. Those are different career paths.”

“This is insane!” my father exclaimed.

“You are torturing your brother because of your own fears. Always attempting to show that you’re superior than everyone else!”

“Dad, I’ve developed a $200 million firm from nothing.”

I had a flash of rage, but I kept my voice controlled.

“I employ more than 200 people. I do not need to prove anything to anyone. What I’m attempting to do is build a great firm on merit and hard work, not nepotism.”

My mother, who had been unusually silent, eventually spoke up.

“Seline, after all these years, can you put your resentment aside and help your brother? Family should come first.”

“That’s a convenient principle to site right now,” I responded.

“Where was ‘family first’ when you excluded me from Christmas? Or when you refused to help me with my college education? Or when you brushed off my career as a phase for years?”

My mother had the grace to appear uncomfortable.

“Things weren’t always perfect, but…”

“They still aren’t,” I gently interrupted.

“But I’m not going to refuse to help Allaric. I’m providing him with a legitimate opportunity to join the company at the appropriate level and learn the business properly.”

“That’s more aid than I’ve ever received.”

My father shook his head, disgusted.

“This is pointless. Come on, Isolda, Allaric. We are leaving. Your sister has made her decision.”

Allaric rose up and jerkily straightened his suit jacket.

“I wouldn’t work for you anyway,” he muttered, his voice heavy with wounded pride.

“I have other opportunities.”

As they turned to depart, I called after them: “Allaric, the offer stands. If you change your mind, please contact Eloan directly.”

My father ushered my mother and brother toward the door, but as they approached, my mother paused and turned back to look at me—possibly for the first time in years. Her expression was complicated, a mix of perplexity, resentment, and something else—perhaps recognition.

“Your office is lovely,” she added quietly.

“You’ve done well for yourself.”

It wasn’t an apology or a congratulation, but it was something. Some acknowledgement, however little, of the life I’d created.