Baby Girl With a Rare Smile Grew Up — What She Looks Like Today Will Leave You Speechless

This week, we received a letter from Chloe, a 24-year-old woman who discovered her parents had hidden $180,000 in college savings while she worked grueling shifts and gave up her dreams. Her story raises difficult questions about trust, parental responsibility, and whether some betrayals are too deep to forgive. We believe her pain deserves to be heard and understood.
Summary: I gave up my dreams because every time I wanted something, my parents sneered, “We can’t afford it.” I destroyed my potential with dead-end part-time jobs, never breathing like a normal teenager. Found out they had $180k saved for my education and were taking expensive vacations while I struggled. Now they want to “fix things” but I’ve cut contact.
I (24F) have been no-contact with my parents for three months, and my family thinks I’m being dramatic.
I had a 4.2 GPA, was valedictorian, and got accepted to three prestigious universities with partial scholarships. My dream was to become a doctor.
I gave up my dreams, because when I asked about college, my parents crushed me with, “We can’t afford it.”
My dad looked me in the eyes and said, “We just don’t have the money. Maybe community college?”
I worked shifts instead of studying, starving at school without lunch. I took a job at a diner, working 30+ hours a week while watching classmates prepare for college. I had to decline my acceptance letters and watch my scholarship deadlines pass.
For six years, I’ve been working dead-end jobs while my former classmates graduated and started careers.
Then everything changed last week.
Last week, while cleaning our dark basement, my throat tightened as I learned they had been lying this entire time. I found a folder labeled “College Fund — Chloe.”
My parents had saved over $180,000 for my education. Plus documents showing a $50,000 inheritance they received right before my senior year.
But here’s the kicker: While I was working double shifts, eating ramen, they took a three-week European vacation the summer after I graduated. They spent $15,000 on that trip alone.
I confronted them immediately.
“What is this?” I demanded, waving the bank statements.
My dad went pale. “Chloe, we can explain...”
“Explain what? You destroyed my future while booking spa treatments in Italy?”
My mom started crying. “We thought you’d figure it out on your own. We wanted to teach you independence.”
“I worked 30 hours a week in high school! I never asked for anything!” I was screaming. “You watched me cry about my future!”
The betrayal runs deeper than just the money. They watched me work myself to exhaustion, lose touch with friends, and become depressed.
My mom called yesterday. “We can fix this. We’ll pay for college now.”
But I’m 24. I’ve missed crucial years. My scholarships are gone. The pre-med track is no longer an option.
“It’s too late,” I told her. “You stole my twenties from me.”
My dad got on the phone. “You’re being ungrateful. We provided a roof over your head—”
I hung up.
Now my family is calling me selfish, saying parents don’t owe kids college tuition. But I feel like they stole my life from me. I’m at a call center while classmates are buying houses with established careers.
Every time I think about forgiving them, I remember sitting alone in that cafeteria, hungry and hopeless, while they were planning their next vacation.
Am I in the wrong for refusing to forgive my parents and cutting them out of my life?
Chloe, we want you to know that your anger is not only understandable—it’s completely justified. What your parents did wasn’t “teaching independence.” It was a cruel deception that stole years from your life. You were valedictorian with a 4.2 GPA, accepted to prestigious universities, and they watched you decline those opportunities while sitting on $180,000. No loving parent watches their child work 30-hour weeks, skip meals, and cry about their future when they have the means to help. Your parents didn’t just withhold money—they withheld hope, and that’s unforgivable.
The financial loss, devastating as it is, isn’t even the worst part of what they did to you. They watched you transform from a bright, ambitious teenager into someone ground down by exhaustion and despair. They saw you lose friends, develop depression, and sacrifice your youth—all while booking European vacations with money that should have secured your future. Your twenties aren’t just "lost years"—they were stolen by the people who were supposed to protect and support you. The scholarships, the pre-med track, the life you planned—these weren’t just opportunities you missed. They were deliberately taken from you.
Your family calling you “dramatic” and “selfish” shows they still don’t grasp the magnitude of their betrayal. When your mother says they “can fix this now,” she’s missing the point entirely. Some things can’t be fixed with money after the fact. You can’t get back the confidence they crushed, the friendships you lost to exhaustion, or the years you spent believing you weren’t worth investing in. Your father’s comment about providing “a roof over your head” is particularly galling—that’s the bare minimum of parental responsibility, not something that excuses lying about your future for six years.
Julia, a stepmother in a blended family, found herself overwhelmed by the constant effort of preparing separate dairy-free meals for her stepchildren. The pressure built until one day, she mistakenly served them a cake that contained milk. The unexpected fallout left her anxious and uncertain about how to move forward.