My Parents Called Me A Dropout. “Look At Your Sister.” I Secretly Built…

Susan Grant, Nathaniel’s mother, was especially incensed because she served on several charity boards and was very active in Dallas High Society.

Three weeks after the wedding, Nathaniel called. I nearly didn’t answer, but my curiosity overcame me.

Sophia had cost her the connection to a successful young tech person, which would have been beneficial for her nonprofit work and social status.

“This is Nathaniel Grant. Rachel, we haven’t had a formal meeting,” he said.

“I am aware of who you are,” I replied.

“I’m phoning to express my regret for the wedding-related incident. Sophia erred,” he said.

“Sophia made a decision. I made a conscious correction,” I told him.

“She was under stress due to wedding preparations and the pressure from both families to make everything flawless,” he explained.

“Nathaniel, I don’t give a damn about the excuses. Your wife—sorry, your wife threw me out of her wedding because she thought I would make her feel embarrassed. That’s not stress. That’s judgment. That’s her true opinion of me,” I said.

“She was unaware of your business, and that’s the exact issue,” he stated.

“My mother wants to invite you to lunch,” he said at last.

“She’s on the board of several charities that could benefit from technology solutions,” he added.

“She never bothered to ask. None of them did. They saw what they wanted to see: a dropout, a failure, someone beneath them. Now that I’m useful, suddenly I matter? No, I’m sorry,” I replied.

“No, I’m not interested in partnering with people who only value me for what I can do for them,” I said.

“She would love to talk about possible partnerships with Client Flow,” he persisted.

“Inform your mom that although I value her interest, Client Flow has other priorities,” I told him.

“Rachel, please be reasonable,” he pleaded.

“I’m acting quite rationally,” I said.

I hung up. Ten minutes later, Sophia called. I let her call go to voicemail.

She called again. Voicemail. Voicemail. At last, she texted.

“Please talk to me. Nathaniel’s family is upset. His mother is threatening to cut us off from the family foundation, saying I’m an embarrassment who doesn’t understand the importance of family connections,” the message read.

“Please, now you understand what it’s like to be called an embarrassment by your own family,” I said, staring at the message, which was so thick with irony that you could cut it with a knife.

“Have fun.”

I disabled her number after she attempted to contact me 17 more times that day.

Facing the Past

The next Sunday, Mom boldly showed up at my apartment. By simply showing up at my door, given that I lived in a building with security and she didn’t have the code, she must have been led in by someone.

“Rachel, we need to talk face to face,” she said.

She looked around at my IKEA furniture, my tiny kitchen, and my wall of vacation photos, and I thought about shutting the door, but I invited her in instead. My apartment felt suddenly smaller with her in it.

“This is where you’ve been living for four years?” she asked.

Her expression was complex, as if she was seeing something that didn’t add together.

“Yes,” I said.

“While you were developing a business worth $83 million?” she asked.

“While I was putting all of my money back into expansion,” I answered.

“Yes,” I added.

Without being asked, she took a seat on my couch.

“Your dad and I, we feel awful. We were unaware,” she said.

“You didn’t inquire,” I pointed out.

“You said you did customer service,” she replied.

“I do. Simply put, it’s higher than you thought,” I stated.

“Mom, what do you want?” I asked, leaning on my kitchen counter.

“What brings you here?” I asked.

“I’d like to comprehend. How come you didn’t inform us?” she asked.

“Without the success, I needed to know if you loved me. I would be valued simply for being your daughter, Rachel. Not the CEO Rachel. Not the award-winning Rachel. Only Rachel,” I explained.

“Of course we love you,” she said.

“Do you? Because you have been a disappointment to me for the past four years. You’ve continuously praised Sophia while ignoring all I did,” I said.

“You presented me as my younger daughter who handles a variety of tasks and her as my daughter, the pharmaceutical executive,” I continued.

She crumpled her face a little.

“I didn’t realize,” she said.

“That is the issue. You didn’t care enough to investigate more. Therefore, you were unaware of it. You got what you were looking for: a dropout who struggled in college,” I told her.

“You never considered the possibility that I might have departed for a valid reason,” I added.

“What exactly was the cause?” she asked.

“I created something that was impatient. Every day that I attended class was a day that my rivals won. I had customers who were prepared to pay for my goods,” I explained.

“Investors wanted to put money into me. If I didn’t take action, my window of opportunity would close,” I said.

“So you dropped out,” she stated.

“So I dropped out, and you’ve held it against me ever since,” I told her.

She lowered her gaze to her hands.

“Your father mortgaged the house for Sophia’s wedding,” she said.

“I understand. We were unable to assist you with that. We’ve reached our limit. If you’d like a large wedding when you get married…”

“I don’t want a big wedding, Mom. And I would cover the cost myself if I did,” I cut her off.

I hesitated and said,

“I’m not upset because I can’t afford it. You couldn’t be bothered to comprehend what I was building. Yet you valued Sophia’s happiness enough to mortgage your home, which is why I’m furious.”

“We didn’t know there was anything to understand because you never asked. You never truly cared about my life. You were never interested in what I did on a daily basis. You simply assumed that I wasn’t succeeding and stopped there,” I finished.

There was a canyon-like silence between us.

“Rachel, what do you want from us? How would this be correct?” she asked.

“I want you to understand that you can’t undo four years of dismissiveness with one conversation. I want you to understand that your love felt reliant on me fulfilling your success-related expectations,” I explained.

“Additionally, I want you to know that I no longer require your approval. Without it, I’ve created a life,” I added.

“You’re our daughter,” she said.

“Am I? Because the daughter you boast about is Sophia. You’re making excuses for me. That’s not…” I started.

She paused, changed her mind, and said,

“That was true. I can see that now, and I’m sorry.”

It was her first sincere apology.

“Mom, I need time. In order to determine what kind of connection we can have in the future, I need time. One that is founded on my true self rather than the person you wish I had been,” I said.

“How long?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. Months, possibly longer,” I replied.

“Sophia’s marriage is already strained because of this,” she said, looking stunned.

“Her actions have infuriated Nathaniel’s relatives. She hardly speaks to us. And now you,” she added.

“Sophia made a decision that backfired, which has caused tension in her marriage. I’m not responsible for fixing that,” I stated.

“She is your sister,” she said.

“She uninvited me from her wedding. She said I would make her feel embarrassed, Mom. That isn’t love between sisters. Contempt is what that is,” I told her.

“She apologizes,” she said.

“She is. I’m positive. I apologize for it blowing up in her face. I’m sorry it’s making her social issues worse. However, I don’t believe she genuinely regrets how she handled me. She merely apologizes for the repercussions,” I said.

Mom got to her feet, moving slowly.

“I should go,” she said.

“Yeah,” I replied.

She turned back at the door and said,

“Your father wants to see you. Would you be interested in joining us for dinner in the end?”

“Not quite yet,” I said.

“When?” she asked.

“When I’m prepared. Because I have faith that you want to see me rather than merely handle things,” I explained.

She walked out. I shut the door, leaned against it, and let out a slow breath.

My phone buzzed. Ethan had texted me.

“I saw your mother’s vehicle drive out of your building. Are you all right?” he asked.

He had been keeping an eye on things since he was worried about my family turning up out of the blue.

“I’m all right. Defending my position,” I replied.

“All right. You’re worthy of better. Never accept anything less,” he sent.

Building a Chosen Family

Over the next three months, the metamorphosis was complete. I smiled at the phone, realizing that chosen family was frequently better than biological family.

After obtaining $30 million in Series C funding, which put the company’s valuation at $115 million, Client Flow hired 18 more employees.

We established a second office in San Francisco and formed alliances with three significant small business associations.

I was asked to give a speech about entrepreneurship and resilience at South by Southwest, which drew 5,000 attendees. Standing room only.