My dad was ultra-strict about grades — no grade below a B. Even though I mostly got A’s, a few B’s made him decide to pull my college fund. At first I felt oddly relieved — I’d rather work for my own future than be under his control.
So I did: I got jobs, applied for loans and grants, and paid my own way. Meanwhile he never told anyone he wasn’t funding me, letting family and friends assume he was the one paying.
Then at a summer barbecue, when my dad started talking about tuition costs like he was footing the bill, I finally snapped and blurted out, “I’m the one paying for it.” The backyard went silent, and all the hidden resentment finally came out.