Favored Shadows: The Daughter she couldn’t see

I still remember the day my mom said she hated me. My heart skipped for a second, and in that moment, everything around me went silent. I searched her eyes, hoping I had heard her wrong but I hadn’t. I could see the hate clearly, burning behind her words. That was the day something inside me broke, and I began to question what love from a parent was supposed to feel like.

After she said she hated me, I went straight to my room. I opened TikTok and started scrolling, pretending to be unbothered. Maybe I was trying to convince myself that her words didn’t hurt, but deep down, they did. Later that night, after she had said all those mean things about me to my brothers and everyone had gone to sleep, I was still there watching a funny skit. God knows how laughter suddenly turned into tears. I pressed my pillow against my face to muffle the sound, but I couldn’t stop crying. That night, only my elder brother understood the pain I was in. He had been through it before, but now he’s the favorite child. People always say that when a man has money, girls will respect him but I’ve learned that when a guy has money, even his own mother will start respecting him and overlooking everything he does.

That night, my brother came to my room and asked me to watch Netflix with him. For a while, my mind drifted away from everything that had happened, and it actually felt good peaceful, even. But the next day, when my mom came back from work, the way she looked at me broke something inside me. The glare she gave me said everything words couldn’t. I greeted her, and she replied, but the hate in her eyes was still there cold and sharp.

Later that evening, she bought some snacks. While she was in the bathroom, I took one, not thinking it was a big deal she had never complained about things like that before. But when she came out and saw me eating, she shouted, asking if she had given me permission. I was shocked because my brother had taken one too, yet she said nothing to him. Then he brought up the cake she had bought, and when I said I wanted a piece too, she laughed and said, “Is there ever anything people eat that you won’t want to eat?” She said it jokingly, but I could tell she meant it.

My brother smirked and, still joking, said something about me leaving the house soon. My mom replied, “For real, I can’t wait. I won’t even miss her maybe just because of the dishes she washes.” That statement cut deep. In that moment, I realized that, to her, my only worth in the house was the chores I did. Without that, I wasn’t valued at all.

Every time I thought my mom and I were finally becoming close, she found a way to break my heart again. I started living in quiet fear, scared to make even the smallest mistake just to avoid her insults and shouting. She never raised her voice at my elder brother not once. And sometimes, I asked myself why. Was it because I didn’t have money yet? As I grew older, I began to see things more clearly. The favoritism had been there since we were little; I just didn’t understand it back then.

I often found myself wondering, what’s the point of having multiple children if you’ll end up choosing a favorite? My mom sometimes stood up for me when I had small disagreements with my dad which I know most mothers would do but somehow, she always turned those moments against me whenever we fought. It felt like even her kindness came with a hidden price.

Sometimes I wonder if my heart will ever fully heal from the things she’s said and done. It hurts in a way that words can’t really explain a kind of silent pain that hides behind my smiles. There are days when I try to convince myself that I’ve moved on, but one small thing she says can pull me right back into that old feeling of not being enough. The truth is, I love my mom deeply, but that love has become mixed with fear, confusion, and sadness. It’s like I’m always trying to earn a kind of love that should have been freely given.

After those months of realizing how unfairly I had been treated, I started questioning if I was really worth loving. Every time my mom called my name, my heart raced, not knowing if it would end in a smile or another argument. I wanted to disappear whenever she opened her mouth the fear of hearing something negative about myself had already settled deep inside me.

I remember when I was younger, my little brother and I both asked for mobile phones. She got his first and then told me not to take it to heart, using emotional words to make me feel guilty for being hurt. I didn’t understand back then, but now I do she had been picking favorites all along.

These days, I’ve learned to keep my distance. I speak less, smile when needed, and hide everything else inside. It’s easier than expecting the warmth that never comes. The worst part is that she never once asked, “What changed? Why are you drifting away from me?” I don’t hate her I just wish she could see me for who I really am. Maybe one day she will. Until then, I’m trying to stay strong, to love myself enough for both of us. Favoritism hurts deeply, and I only hope it doesn’t destroy me before I learn how to heal from it.

✍️ Author’s Note

This story is a piece of my truth a reflection of the silent battles that favoritism creates inside families. I wrote it not for pity, but for peace. To anyone who has ever felt unseen, unloved, or compared, please know you are enough just as you are. Healing takes time, but your story matters too. 💛