Abandoned by her parents at just 10 years old, Melody found love and stability with her aunt and uncle, who treated her like she was their own. Now twenty-two years old and thriving in her IT career, Melody’s success catches her biological parents’ attention. But reconnecting isn’t so simple, leaving Melody to show them that some bonds cannot be repaired…

I was ten when my life split in two.

One minute, I was unpacking my school bag at home, and the next, my parents were rushing me into the car with a suitcase, promising we were going to visit Gran for a little while.

“You love it at Gran’s, don’t you, Melody?” my mother asked, tying my hair into a long ponytail.

I nodded.

I thought it was a fun adventure. I didn’t realize “a little while” would mean forever.

It started when my younger sister, Chloe, was five. She’d been doing gymnastics at the local rec center, and her coach swore that she was a natural.

“She could go all the way,” he said. “I mean, seriously. I’m talking about competitions and the works!”

My parents latched onto those words like a life raft. Chloe wasn’t just a little girl twirling in leotards anymore. Suddenly, she was their golden ticket to life.

Everything became about Chloe. Her training, her competitions, her future. They said uprooting the family would be worth it if she could become an Olympic champion of something.

But…

They just didn’t want me tagging along.

At first, they framed it as something noble.

“You’re older, Melody,” they told me.

I remember how my mother beamed at me, as though doing this would be the most important thing in my life. As if I was saving them or doing something so meaningful for our family.

“This will give you a chance to bond with Gran, Mel,” my father said. “And we’ll visit all the time, and you’ll see, it will be fun!”

But they didn’t visit. They didn’t call much, either. Eventually, when I was about to turn eleven, my gran sat me down and explained the truth.

“Your parents think Chloe’s got a real shot at something big, my love. They need to focus on her, so they left you here with me.”

Her voice was kind but firm, and I could see the anger simmering beneath her words.

My gran tried her best, but she was getting on in age and could only do so much. She had also stopped driving because of her eyesight, so getting to and from school was becoming a nightmare.

After another few months with my grandmother, my uncle Rob and aunt Lisa took me in. They couldn’t have children of their own, and they called me their “miracle kid.”

Uncle Rob joked that I’d just been sent to the wrong place.

“You were definitely misrouted by the stork, Mel,” he laughed one evening.

“I agree,” aunt Lisa said. “You’re right where you belong, my sweet girl.”

I didn’t laugh at first, but over time, I started to believe them.

How could I not?

Aunt Lisa stayed with me before bedtime, getting me into a routine of brushing my hair, and then her braiding it.

“Braided hair means less damage, my love,” she said. “And it will help your beautiful hair grow long and strong.”

She would buy us clothes in matching colors, and she would show up to every single school event. She was the mother I had always needed.

Uncle Rob was just as incredible, always ready to give me advice, take me on sneaky ice cream dates, and provide endless dad-jokes.

I was at peace.

When I turned twelve, I stopped calling my parents altogether.

I’d been the only one making an effort, and I realized I was holding on to a dream that wasn’t real. My bio-parents didn’t care. They rarely even sent me birthday cards or presents. They didn’t even send uncle Rob and aunt Lisa any money to take care of me.

By the time I was sixteen, Rob and Lisa officially adopted me, cutting the last thread tying me to my so-called parents. Aunt Lisa had made it such a special event. She decorated the backyard and planned an intimate birthday dinner for me, including chocolate cupcakes and a puppy.

“Now you’re mine, my Melody,” she told me as I was getting ready for the dinner. “I’ve always loved you since you were a baby. You were the reason that Rob and I even wanted kids. But when you moved in with us, I realized that it wasn’t about being a mother to anyone else… it was about being a mother to you.”

I couldn’t help it. I burst into tears.

“No, don’t cry, sweet girl,” she said, rubbing my back. “Let’s go have your birthday dinner.”

And do you know what?

My parents didn’t even show up. They also didn’t object to Rob and Lisa adopting me formally. It was as if they had already relinquished their parental rights years earlier, to make things easier for them and Chloe’s career.

Now, I’m twenty-two, and I hadn’t seen my parents once in the past nine years. I’m working in IT, and I’m thriving. It was during high school when I realized that I was a whiz at IT.

“If it’s your calling, then it’s your calling, Mel,” Rob had said over dinner one night. I was still in high school and it had been the day of our parent-teacher meeting. My computer teacher had gone on about my “skills.”

“Do you want to study IT after school?” he asked.

I was silent for a moment, unsure. I cut into my piece of chicken and thought about it.

“I think so,” I said. “Would that be okay? Is college on the table?”

“Is college on the table?” Rob asked, amused. “Of course, it is, Mel! We’ve always told you, you’re our own. And we’re going to pave the way for your future, songbird.”

Hearing that made my heart swell. Over the years, my uncle Rob had taken to calling me names that related or reminded him of my name. “Songbird” had to have been my favorite.

They supported me, loved me, and never ever gave up on me.

I hadn’t thought about my biological parents in years. Then, a few months ago, Chloe’s career ended abruptly. She suffered a serious accident during training, breaking her leg and arm.

It was the kind of injury that you don’t come back from, at least not at the elite level. After she recovered, Chloe’s best chance would probably be with her becoming a coach.

Suddenly, my bio parents wanted me back in their lives.

They first reached out over the holidays, sending a generic, cheery text to me.

Hi, Melody! We miss you so much and would love to reconnect. Let’s meet soon! How about dinner?

I ignored it.

But on Christmas Eve, they cornered me.

I’d gone to midnight mass with my gran, who, despite her age and horrible joint pain, still adored the tradition. As we walked into the church, I spotted my mother waiting by the door. My mother’s face lit up, and she rushed forward like we’d seen each other yesterday.

Gran huffed and continued to walk to a seat.

“Melody!” she exclaimed, reaching for a hug. “It’s been so long! You’re so beautiful.”

Now, I knew exactly who she was. I knew exactly who my father, who was walking toward us, was. But I wanted to hurt them.

“Sorry, do I know you?” I asked.

My mother’s face crumpled like tissue paper, but my father stepped in, red-faced and indignant.

“Excuse me, young lady? What kind of tone is that? What kind of question is that? You know that we’re your parents!”

I tilted my head, pretending to think.

“Oh. My parents? That’s funny, because my parents are at home, rushing to wrap the last-minute Christmas presents they got me. You must be Anthony and Carmen? The people who gave me up?”

Then I walked to sit with Gran, leaving them gaping.

They sat behind us, and I could feel their eyes boring into the back of my head the entire service. On the way out, they stopped me again.

“You really don’t recognize us?” my mother asked.

I stared at them for a moment.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said.

As Gran and I walked away, she held onto my arm tighter.

“Serves them right, my love,” she said. “As you can see, I don’t exist to them. I haven’t since you were eleven years old and I shouted at them for how they treated you.”

A few days later, they must have done some digging because they called me out of the blue.

I almost laughed out loud.

“What you’ve done for me? You mean abandoning me?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” she snapped. “We gave you the space to grow into the independent woman you are today. If it weren’t for our sacrifices, you would be nothing.”

I couldn’t believe her audacity.

“You did no such thing,” I argued. “You didn’t want me around while you chased Olympic dreams with Chloe.”

“Family is family,” my father said through the phone. “We’re all in this together now. Don’t you think you owe us a little for raising you?”

“You didn’t raise me. Aunt Lisa and Uncle Rob did. If I owe anyone, it’s them.”

I hung up before they could reply.

I suppose I could have checked on Chloe, but she had cut me off, too. Just as our parents had. I had nothing left to give them.

New Year’s Day rolled around, and it was magical. Aunt Lisa made her famous honey-glazed ham, and Uncle Rob tried his hand at baking cookies (they came out a little burned, but we loved them anyway).

As we sat around the table laughing, I realized something.

This is my family. Not the people who left me behind, but the ones who stayed.

My biological parents can keep trying to connect, but they’ll never undo the damage they caused.

I have everything I need right here.