You Can’t Buy Your Way Into My Life,” My Stepson Said When I Offered College Help—Then, Five Years Later, He Finally Called Me
When my stepson Josh moved in at sixteen, he made it clear I was never welcome. Every kind gesture was met with eye-rolls, insults, and the same cutting reminder: “You’re not my mom.”
I tried anyway. I cooked his favorite meals. Suggested movie nights. Offered support. Nothing softened him. My husband David always said, “He’s just hurting,” while I cried quietly in our bedroom.
When Josh reached senior year, money for college became a real problem. I had an inheritance from my grandmother, and I offered to pay his tuition—not to win him over, but to help his future.
Josh sneered. “You can’t buy your way into being my mom.”
David agreed with him.
After that, I stopped trying.
Years passed. Josh barely acknowledged me. Then out of nowhere, he called.
He was getting married. Destination wedding. Expensive. And he wanted financial help.
“Oh—and you’re not invited,” he added. “But if you care about this family, you’ll help.”
I said no.
David was furious. “This is your chance to fix things!”
That’s when I realized the truth. To them, I wasn’t family. I was a wallet.
So I invited them to dinner. Brought a contract and a check. Let Josh sign an agreement to finally call me Mom.
Then I burned it in front of them.
And handed David divorce papers.
Because love can’t be bought—but disrespect always has a price.
