My Parents Banned Me From Christmas For Years And Only Loved My Brother. At…
My parents banned me from Christmas for years and only loved my brother. At his job interview, HR revealed I was the CEO and his face went pale. My name is Seleni Drayton and I am 32 years old. I am the CEO of Techishian Solutions, a technology startup that has developed into a mid-sized firm with over 200 people. But my route to achievement was not paved with family blessings. Quite the reverse.
Growing up in Pittsburgh, I was always the odd one out. My parents, Edmund and Isolda, made it quite apparent that my younger brother Allaric was the golden child. All Alaric, three years my junior, had it all. The newest toys, the best opportunities, and most importantly, their undivided attention and adoration.
From a young age, I learned to be self-sufficient. My parents attended all of Allaric’s little league games and school productions, but they were rarely present for my academic competitions or piano recital. We’re busy with Allaric’s event was the most prevalent sentence I heard. When it came time for college, the difference was much more pronounced.
“We’ve been saving for All Alaric’s education since he was born,” my father told me when I inquired about financial assistance. “He plans to be a doctor or a lawyer eventually.” “Seline, you’ve always been independent. I finished with honors in computer science and business administration, having worked three part-time jobs and taken a full academic load at state university.
” Meanwhile, All Alaric drank his way through freshman year at a costly private institution, soon dropped out and then persuaded our parents to pay his gap year, which suddenly turned into three years of finding himself while traveling through Europe and Asia on their dime. After college, I landed an entry-level position at a small tech firm.
The pay was minimal, but the experience was invaluable. I lived in a tiny studio, worked 60-hour weeks, and poured every spare minute into developing my skills and building side projects. While all Alaric posted exotic vacation photos, I was coding until 3:00 a.m. determined to create something meaningful. My breakthrough came 5 years ago.
I developed a revolutionary AI powered customer relationship management system, pitched it to countless investors, faced rejection after rejection, but eventually secured enough funding to launch Techian solutions. The first two years were brutal. I worked around the clock and poured everything I had into making the company succeed.
By year three, our software had gained traction. Major companies began adopting our platform and revenue flowed in and we expanded, moved into a proper office and I finally started paying myself a reasonable salary. There were times when I thought we wouldn’t make it because funding was low and the product wasn’t quite there, but I persisted.
This year, Teeshian Solutions became a major player in the tech industry, valued at over $200 million. Throughout this journey, my communication with my family dwindled to occasional holiday phone calls. My parents never asked about my company, and when I tried to share my successes, they’d quickly changed the subject to all Alaric’s latest venture, which inevitably failed by the time they told me about it.
Allaric eventually returned to the United States, and with our parents’ connections, landed a job at a marketing firm. He did the bare minimum, but somehow always received praise from our parents. Allaric is really finding his way in the corporate world, my mother would say, completely ignoring the fact that I was running my own wildly successful business.
In December, 3 weeks before Christmas, everything came to a head. I was sitting in my corner office overlooking the Seattle skyline, reviewing year-end reports, when my phone rang. It was my mother, an unusual occurrence on a Tuesday afternoon. “Seline, dear,” she said in that overly sweet voice she only used when she wanted something. “I’m calling about Christmas this year.
In recent years, I’d received a text message invitation at most, usually just days before, but a phone call 3 weeks in advance was unprecedented. “We’re having everyone over on Christmas Eve,” she continued. “It would be lovely if you could join us.” A warmth spread through my chest. “Despite everything, I still craved my family’s acceptance. Perhaps things were changing.
” “That sounds nice, Mom,” I said, trying to keep optimism out of my voice. “I think I can make it.” Wonderful, she exclaimed. Oh, and Allaric is bringing his new girlfriend, Mary Gold Vance. She works at Hard Grove and Partners, a famous consulting business. Her father is a partner there. And there it was, the real reason for the call. She’s really fantastic.
My mother continued, oblivious to my silence. Harvard Business School. Fasttracked to junior partner. All Alaric met her at a charity gala. Everyone is so impressed by her. Your father informs everyone that his son is dating a Harvard graduate. Can you imagine the Drayton family ascending in the world? I took a deep breath.
Mom, did I mention that Teish was featured in Forbes last month? We plan to extend into Europe next year. Oh, that’s nice, dear. She said. Anyway, Maragold comes from a very good family. Her mother serves on the board of the Symphony Orchestra and they have a summer house in the Hamptons. Allaric suggests they travel there for New Year’s. Isn’t this exciting? I bit my tongue. Very thrilling. Listen, Mom.
I need to return to work. I have a meeting in 5 minutes. Of course, dear. We will see you at Christmas. Wear something pleasant, will you? None of those business suits. Maragold is incredibly fashion forward. After we hung up, I gazed at my phone. My mother’s behavior shouldn’t have surprised me, but it still hurt.
I shook it off and went back to work, trying not to think about the forthcoming holiday. A week before Christmas, I was finishing my travel preparations when my phone rang again, this time from my father. He rarely calls me, so I answered instantly, alarmed. He said, “Seline,” gruffly and without greeting. “Dad, is everything all right?” “I’m calling about Christmas,” he stated.
“Your mother and I have been talking, and we think it might be best if you don’t come this year.” I sat in startled stillness, my hand clutching the phone. Allaric’s girlfriend comes from a good family, he added firmly. We don’t want anything to complicate things. Complicate things? I repeated scarcely audible.
What does that mean? Do you understand what I mean? Seline and Maragold are wealthy and successful. Her family has ties. We need to show her that our family is respectable, but I am not. The words came out sharper than I had intended. Don’t twist my words, he yelled. Your brother has an opportunity for a good future here.
The last thing we need is you bringing in your alternative lifestyle. My alternative lifestyle? I was very perplexed. Dad, I’m the CEO of a technological company. What exactly are you talking about? All that independent woman stuff, the career obsession, the way you always have to oneup your brother with your so-called success. So-called success.
The word struck me like a physical blow. You’ve always been difficult, Seline, he said when I didn’t react. You’ve always had to do things your way, never mind how it affects the family. Can you think of someone else for a moment? Think of your brother’s future.
I sat there, phone clamped to my ear, as my father shattered every notion I had about my status in the family. I wasn’t being barred from Christmas because of anything I had done. I was being banned because of who I was. Accomplished, independent, and unwilling to pretend I was anything less than I was. I understand, I finally answered, my voice firm despite the tears threatening to fall. Enjoy your Christmas.
Good, he said, happy that I didn’t fight. Your mother will call you after the holidays. After hanging up, I sat motionless at my desk, staring out at the Seattle skyline as the winter sun set early, casting long shadows across the city. I had built this, this company, this career, this life, all on my own, without their help or support.
And it still wasn’t enough to earn a place at their Christmas table. For the first time in years, I allowed myself to cry over my family’s rejection. Deep, gut-wrenching sobs that left me gasping for breath. I cried for the little girl who had never been enough. The teenager who had worked herself to exhaustion trying to earn approval that would never come, and the woman who, despite everything, yearned for her parents’ acceptance. When the tears stopped, I wiped my face, squared my shoulders, and went back to work.
If I wasn’t allowed to spend Christmas at my parents’ place, I would make my own celebration. It was my first Christmas alone, and the silence was deafening. From my rooftop apartment in Seattle, I could see the Space Needle lit up with holiday lights. I had just decorated a modest tree and a few ornaments.
Kalista, my executive assistant, sent me a note saying, “Merry Christmas, Seline. Remember, my mom’s legendary eggnog is ready for you if you change your mind about coming over. Kalista had been horrified when I indicated I’d be spending Christmas alone and had instantly invited me, which I respectfully declined, not wanting to intrude.
Before I could react, I received another message from Oilia, my best friend since college. Merry Christmas, Becca. Dorian and the kids are inquiring when Auntie Seline will arrive. The ham is in the oven, and there’s a glass of wine bearing your name on it. Please tell me you aren’t spending the day alone in your antiseptic flat.
I smiled despite myself because Oilia knew me too well. We had met during freshman orientation and been inseparable ever since. She had witnessed firsthand my struggles with my family and had opened her own family to me without hesitation. I stared at my phone for a long time before making a decision. I texted Oilia back, “Give me an hour. I will bring dessert.
” I quickly showered and dressed, then drove at the only open bakery to pick up a chocolate cake. As I parked into Ailia’s suburban driveway, the front door burst wide, and her seven-year-old twins, Isabo and Caspian, raced out to greet me, still wearing their Christmas jammies. “Auntie Seline, did you come?” Isabo squealled.
“We thought you weren’t coming,” Caspian said, grabbing the cake box. “Mom said you were working.” “I finished early,” I pretended, following them inside. Oilia’s home was the polar opposite of my minimalist apartment. Every surface was adorned with Christmas cheer.
The air smelled of cinnamon and roasting ham and Christmas music played softly. Oilia appeared from her kitchen. “You came,” she exclaimed, her voice filled with relief, and she hugged me hard. “I’m so glad.” Her husband, Dorian, came behind her, holding their 2-year-old daughter, Amara, on his hip. “About time you showed up, Seline.” Oilia has been checking her phone every 5 minutes.
I was enveloped in the warmth of Oilia’s family. We ate a delicious meal, opened presents. Oilia always had gifts for me, played board games with the kids, and talked and laughed by the fire. No one asked about my work or accomplishments or compared me to anyone else. I was simply Seline, a loved and welcomed member of their celebration.
As the evening progressed, I helped Oilia clean up the kitchen. “Thank you for today,” I murmured quietly. “I needed this more than I realized.” Oilia squeezed my shoulder and said, “Your family, Becca. You will always have a place here.” Family. The word both warmed and wounded me. When I returned to my apartment that night, my phone had a new message from all Alaric, and it contained a photo of my parents’ Christmas celebration. There they were, my parents, all Alaric and a beautiful woman who must have been Marold, all
smiling in front of the Christmas tree I remembered from childhood with the same ornaments and star on top. The message said, “Merry Christmas. I wish you could have been here, but Marie Gold’s family had also joined us, and it was a tight squeeze. Perhaps next year.
” My childhood home had five bedrooms and a large living and dining room, but it was never about space. I stared at the photo for a long time, noting how proud my father looked with his arm around Allaric, and how my mother beamed at Maragold. They were a picture perfect family, and there was no room for me in the frame. At that moment, something inside me shifted. A door closed and a window opened.
If my family didn’t perceive my worth, I would stop seeking their approval and focus all of my efforts on the one thing that had never failed me, my work. I worked more hours than ever before during the week between Christmas and New Year’s. My team was on vacation, so the office was quiet, allowing me to work without interruption.
I refined our 5-year expansion plan, started discussions with potential European partners, and created a new marketing strategy. Kalista returned to work in early January and was surprised to find my office completely reorganized. “Did you work for the entire holiday?” she inquired concerned.
“I had a breakthrough,” I said, barely looking up from my computer. “I think this is going to be our biggest year yet.” In the 3 months that followed, Techisian Solutions signed two large contracts with Fortune 500 businesses, confirmed our European development plans, and began creating a new AI product that promised to transform the industry.
During this time, I didn’t think much about my family. My parents didn’t call after Christmas, and I made no effort to contact them. All Alaric occasionally texted me updates on Maragold, but I responded with brief, polite messages that revealed nothing about my personal life. As a result, the company thrived.
As March approached, I was fully immersed in preparations for our biggest expansion yet. We were moving to a larger office space in downtown Seattle, hiring dozens of new employees across all departments. And Techision Solutions was no longer a startup, but a major player in the tech industry with me at the helm.
Selene, do you have a minute? Our HR director, Eloan Price, popped into my office one afternoon in mid-March. Of course, Eloan, what’s up? Ilowan arrived, locking the door behind her, holding a folder in her hands and wearing a strange expression that ranged between amusement and concern.
“We’ve received over 300 applications for the senior project manager positions,” she said, seated next to me. The hiring team has narrowed it down to about 20 candidates for first round interviews. “That’s wonderful,” I remarked, wondering why this needed to be done in person rather than via email. “Are you finding quality candidates?” For the most part, yes, she said, but there’s one application I thought you should see. She slid the folder onto my desk and toward me.
My brother, all Alaric Drayton, had a resume inside, which I quickly scanned, noting the inflated job titles and vague accomplishments he had listed. His current position was executive marketing strategist at a small local firm where he was at best a mid-level marketing associate. Was you aware he was applying? Eloan inquired carefully as she was one of the few people at the company who understood anything about my family.
“No,” I said, still looking at the resume. “I had no idea.” He was quite confident during the phone screening,” Eloan recounted with a chuckle. “Actually, he was rather condescending to Saran in HR, assuming she was just a secretary and asking to speak to someone who actually makes decisions.” I winced. That sounded just like Allaric.
The position requires at least 5 years of project management experience and proficiency in three programming languages. Eloan added, “As you can see, his resume does not meet those requirements, but he requested that we consider him for a senior role rather than an entry-level position. I sat back in my chair, my mind racing.” Allaric had no idea I was the CEO of Techian Solutions.
I had always used my middle name, Victoria, in press releases and public appearances to maintain some privacy, and my brother had never expressed any interest in my career. But now, by pure coincidence, or perhaps because our company’s rapid growth had put us in the news, he had applied for a job at my company. What would you like to do? Allowan inquired. Clearly, there is a conflict of interest here.
I carefully considered my options. I could reject his application outright, which would be justified given his lack of qualifications. I could recuse myself entirely from the process and let the hiring team make their decision without knowing about our relationship.
Or I could use this opportunity to finally show my brother the truth about my life and success. I want you to treat his application like any other, I ended up saying. If he doesn’t meet the basic qualifications, he shouldn’t proceed to an interview. Illowan paused. On paper, he’s not qualified, she conceded.
But he did mention some contacts with possible clients that the team believed may be useful. They advanced him to the next round despite his lack of technical qualifications. Connections. He was constantly promoted based on who he knew rather than what he could do. When is his interview scheduled? I asked. Tomorrow at 2 p.m. I made a decision. I will not be personally involved in the hiring process. That would be unethical. But I would like to observe the interview.
Could you please arrange for me to sit in anonymously? Please introduce myself solely as a senior board member. Aloan nodded. We can do it. The panel will not mention your name or title. After Eloan left, I sat staring at Allaric’s resume, emotions swirling inside me. Part of me felt guilty for what might appear to be a setup.
But another part, the part that had been rejected and dismissed for years, wanted All Alaric to finally see me for who I truly was. Not just his overlooked sister, but a successful CEO who had built something meaningful through hard work and determination. That night, I barely slept. I rehearsed in my mind how I would behave during the interview. Professional, detached, fair.
I wouldn’t let our personal history influence my judgment, but I also wouldn’t pretend to be less than I was. For once, All Alaric would see me clearly, free of our parents’ distorted lens. The next day, I dressed with extra care in a tailored navy suit, my hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and I headed to the conference room where the interviews were being held, taking a seat at the far end of the table with the other observers.
I reviewed Allaric’s resume once more and prepared a few technical questions that would challenge him without being unfair. At precisely 2 p.m., Elo and Alaric entered, and my breath caught in my throat. I hadn’t seen my brother in person in over a year, and he appeared older and more polished in his fine suit.
He carried himself with the confidence of someone who had never been told he wasn’t good enough. For a moment, I was that little girl again, watching from the sidelines as my parents lavished attention on their golden child. But then I remembered where I was in the company I had built from nothing. Sitting in a position of leadership I had earned through years of hard work.
I straightened my shoulders, ready for whatever came next. The Teasian Solutions headquarters, located on the top three floors of a gleaming skyscraper in downtown Seattle, had a conference room with Florida ceiling windows and stunning views of Puet Sound.
The walls were adorned with modern art, and I could tell from all Alaric’s expression when he walked in, that the room had served its purpose. Illowan presented the interview panel, Seren from HR, whom Allaric had spoken with on the phone, Lucian, the technical director, and Thalia, the current senior project manager. She then motioned to the spectator area where I sat with two other executives.
We also have members of our leadership team observing today, Eloin said calmly. They’ll be sitting in on several interviews to ensure consistency in our hiring process. Alaric hardly looked at us, his gaze fixed on the panel. He smiled confidently as he took his seat, fixing his tie in a move I recognized from childhood, a habit he did when he wanted to impress someone. “Thank you for the opportunity,” he told me.
I’ve been following TouchVision’s growth and I’m excited about the possibility of bringing my expertise to your team. All Alaric had no idea what Teaian did beyond the most broad definition of tech solutions. If he had done any study on the company, he would have discovered my connection to it right away. Lucian began with a customary inquiry.
Can you tell us about your experience managing complex technical projects? All Alaric launched into a well-rehearsed response about a marketing campaign he had led at his current company. I coordinated between multiple departments, managed a substantial budget, and delivered results that exceeded expectations, he concluded, leaning back slightly as if expecting applause.
And what project management methods did you use? Lucian pressed. All Alaric held his breath. I believe in a flexible approach that adapts to the specific needs of each project, he answered evasively. I don’t like to be constrained by rigid methodologies. Thalia jumped in. Could you show us how you would set up a canban board for a software development project? Allaric’s confidence was noticeably shaken.
Well, I would delegate that to the technical team members, he responded. My strength is in the big picture strategy, not the day-to-day technical details. The interview continued in this manner with all Alaric seeking to evade technical questions while emphasizing his strategic vision and interpersonal abilities.
When pressed on his technical understanding, he grew dismissive. Let’s be honest, he remarked with a little condescending grin. People like me aren’t hired for coding skills. We are recruited because we understand how to lead, motivate, and connect with the right individuals. I have relationships at significant corporations who may be valuable customers for Teesian.
Seren who had remained quiet, piped up. Our senior project managers are expected to have both technical expertise and leadership abilities. They need a thorough understanding of our products in order to effectively manage their development. All Alaric waved his hand dismissively. That is what technical assistants are for.
In my experience, the most successful projects are led by people who understand both business and technology. No offense, but self-made folks without suitable backgrounds frequently overlook the big picture because they are overly focused on technical details. Everyone in the room, including myself, was aware that Teeshan had been developed from the ground up by self-made individuals.
Elos brow furrowed slightly in response to my remark. “Tell us about a time when you faced a significant challenge on a project and how you overcame it,” Lucian inquired, maintaining a professional tone despite the anxiety in the room. All Alaric began telling a story about saving a marketing campaign when a vendor failed to deliver.
I worked through the weekend making hundreds of calls to find a replacement vendor at the last minute. He claimed my boss was amazed that I managed to save the campaign single-handedly. I pressed my lips together to keep from reacting. I knew the story. It had happened at his previous job, but Allaric had not saved the campaign.
His assistant had worked the weekend while all Alaric took credit for her efforts. I knew this because the assistant had later applied for a position at TechSition and shared the true story during her interview. As the technical inquiries persisted, Allaric became increasingly uncomfortable, checking his watch numerous times and appearing agitated.
“I think we’re getting too caught up in the technical weeds,” he added. “As I have stated, my value is in my strategic vision and connections. I’m being considered for numerous senior roles at other firms, so I’d love you if we could focus on how my unique skills can help Techision.” Eloan glanced at the panelists and nodded slightly.
We’re actually nearing the end of our scheduled time, she began. Before we wrap up, our CEO, who will make the final decision on all senior hires, would like to ask you a few questions. Allaric straightened instantly alert, meeting the CEO had not been included on the interview schedule. Of course, he answered, fixing his tie once more. I look forward to it.
Ilowan turned to face the observer section. Seline, would you like to take over? I stood and proceeded to the front of the room, watching All Alaric’s face progressively light up with recognition. His expression shifted from confident to perplexed, astonished, and then scared. “Hello, Allaric,” I responded quietly, extending my hand. “It’s been a while.
” His mouth opened and closed silently, and his hand rose to shake mine. His palm felt clammy on my flesh. “You’re the CEO,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. Selene Victoria Drayton, founder and CEO of Techish and Solutions, I confirmed, taking the seat directly across from him. I recused myself from the initial screening process for obvious reasons, but I do make the final decisions on all senior hires.
Allaric’s face had lost its color and his eyes flew about the room looking for a way out. But he was stuck in this moment of reality. I have a few questions, I continued professionally, opening his resume folder. I see you’ve listed your current position as executive marketing strategist, but when I contacted Hargrove Partners last week about a possible collaboration, Persal Hargrove mentioned you were a marketing associate.
Could you explain the discrepancy? All Alaric’s eyes widened when his boss’s name was mentioned. I I handle executive level projects, he stammered. It’s a functional title rather than an official one. I agreed and took a note. And your resume says you know Python and Java.
Could you describe briefly how you would use either language to build an API integration? I I oversee teams that handle that sort of thing, he continued, tugging on his collar. As I previously mentioned, I focus on strategy, not coding. I see, I said, closing the folder. One final question. You mentioned having connections who could refer lucrative business to Techan. Could you be more explicit about those contacts and how they have translated into business results in your current position? Alaric shifted uncomfortably. Well, Maragold’s father, that is my girlfriend’s father. He’s a partner at a
major consulting firm, and my father knows several business owners in Pittsburgh who might. His voice trailed off as he realized how weak this sounded. The connections he was so proud of were at best secondhand, leveraging relationships that weren’t even his. Thank you for your time today, Allaric, I replied. Rose to close the interview.
Our HR team will be in touch regarding next steps. I offered my hand again, retaining complete professionalism despite the tumult of emotions beneath the surface. Allaric shook it, still looking stunned. “Thank you,” he said, clutching his portfolio with quivering hands. Alowan went up to guide him out.
As they approached the door, all Alaric looked back at me with a mixture of uncertainty, embarrassment, and something else, perhaps a dawning realization in his eyes. Then he was gone, and the room grew silent. Lucian let out a low whistle. Well, that was unexpected, he replied. I take it you two know each other. He’s my brother, I said simply, gathering my notes. That’s why I didn’t participate in the original screening process.
Please analyze his application based on our regular criteria, disregarding our relationship. The team nodded, but I could see the questions in their eyes. I excused myself and returned to my office, locking the door behind me. It was only then that I allowed myself to understand what had just transpired.
I didn’t intend to embarrass all Alaric, but I also didn’t shield him from the consequences of his own arrogance and lack of preparation. For once, he had been judged solely on his own merits without our parents’ influence swaying the scales in his favor. I felt no satisfaction in his discomfort, only a strange sense of closure.
For years, I had worked in the shadows of my family’s dismissal, developing something they had never acknowledged. Now that Allaric knew the truth, it was unclear whether anything would change. I had just finished collecting my thoughts when my office phone rang. It was Alowan at the reception desk. Seline, she replied, her voice tight.
Your brother is still inside the building. He’s demanding to talk with you and is on the phone with someone. I guess that could be your father. I closed my eyes briefly, knowing that this was not done with all Alaric. It never was. Send him in, I told him. And Eloan, thank you for handling the situation so professionally. Of course, she said, “That’s what we do here.
Handle things professionally.” Despite the looming confrontation, the subtle emphasis on her final words made me grin. Whatever occurred next, I had developed a team of people who valued competence and integrity, which was worth celebrating on its own.
I had scarcely recovered when all Alaric stormed into my office without knocking, his face flushed with humiliation and anger. “What the hell was that?” he demanded, locking the door behind him with greater force than required. I remained sat, my voice cool and professional. That was a job interview, Allaric, for a position you applied for. You made me look like a fool, he yelled, pacing in front of my desk. You ambushed me.
I did nothing of the sort, I responded calmly. You applied to my company without even conducting basic investigation. If you had, you would have realized I was the CEO. Your lack of preparation is not my fault. He paused his pacing and looked at me incredulously. How was I expected to know? You never discuss your work. I’ve tried to talk about my work for years, I explained, but no one in our family has ever been interested.
But a simple Google search for Techision Solutions CEO would have yielded my name and image. All Alaric rad his hand through his hair, a motion reminiscent of our father’s frustration. This is just like you, Seline. They are constantly trying to outdo me and make me appear awful. I took a long breath and reminded myself to remain calm.
All Alaric, I recused myself from the original screening process, specifically to avoid any conflict of interest. The hiring team’s appraisal was the sole reason you made it to the interview stage. I only participated at the end, as I do with all senior position interviews. But you asked me those impossible technical questions. He lamented.
You knew I couldn’t answer them. Those were typical questions for the position you applied for. I patiently explained, “Every candidate is required to demonstrate their technical knowledge and experience. That’s why the job description specifies the necessary abilities and expertise.
” All Alaric sank into a chair across from my desk, his initial rage giving way to a sullen defensiveness. “Dad’s furious,” he murmured. “He’s on his way here.” I felt a chilly weight descend in my stomach. “Is Dad coming here to my office?” I contacted him shortly after the interview, Allaric acknowledged, avoiding my gaze. He and mom are both coming.
They were already in Seattle visiting Maragold’s parents. My parents, despite several invites, had never visited me in Seattle, but they would go across the nation to meet the family of their son’s fiance. Allaric, I explained cautiously. This is my workplace. Whatever familial concerns we have should be addressed personally, not in my professional setting.
He shrugged, expressing both hopelessness and a disregard for my boundaries. Too late. They’re probably already inside the building. As if on Q, my phone rang again, this time from the reception desk. Miss Drayton, your parents have requested to see you.
Should I send them up? I closed my eyes briefly to center myself. Yes, please accompany them to my office. Could you please invite Alan and Kalista to join us in about 10 minutes? Having witnesses would perhaps prevent the incident from becoming too serious. While we waited, Allaric phone rang with a text message which he examined with a smug smile.
Maragold’s father might be interested in investing in your little company, he remarked. That’s what connections can do for you. Before I could react, the door opened and my parents entered my office. My father, Edmund, walked in first, his face set in the severe expression I remembered from childhood scoldings.
And my mother, Isolda, followed, her eyes darting about the huge corner office with obvious surprise. Seline, my father, began without a prelude. What does this mean? You embarrassed your brother at a job interview. Is this some sort of revenge? I stood there, retaining my professional demeanor. Hello, Dad. Mom, please take a seat. This does not have to be confrontational. Don’t tell me how this needs to be. My father screamed, still rising.
All Alaric tells us you ambushed him, asked him impossible questions, and made him look incompetent. I did nothing of the such, I said quietly. Allaric sought for a top position at my company without knowing I was the CEO. The questions he was asked were standard for all candidates applying for that position.
My mother, who had taken a seat next to all Alaric, asked, “What is your company? Are you the CEO here? She gazed around the office again, admiring the awards on the wall, the view of the Seattle skyline, and the obvious signs of success. Yes, mom. I started Techishian Solutions 6 years ago. I’m the CEO and main shareholder. I couldn’t keep the pride out of my voice. My father brushed it away impatiently.
That isn’t the point. The point is All Alaric needs this job and you have the ability to aid him. That is what family does. The position All Alaric applied for requires technical skills and experience he doesn’t have, I told him. It wouldn’t be fair to other candidates or to the company to hire someone unqualified because of family connections.
So, you’re unwilling to aid your brother? My father demanded, his voice rising after everything we’ve done for you? Something inside me snapped at those words. What have you done for me? I repeated, my voice dangerously quiet. And what precisely would that be, Dad? My father was surprised by my tone. “We raised you, educated you.
” “No,” I said, stunning everyone in the room, including myself. “You reared me, but did not teach me. I worked three jobs to pay for college, and you paid for all Alaric’s expensive university. You’ve never supported my profession, expressed interest in my accomplishments, and most recently barred me from attending Christmas because you feared I’d humiliate you in front of all Alaric’s girlfriend.” my mother exclaimed. That’s not what happened. It’s exactly what happened.
I stated firmly. Dad contacted me a week before Christmas and told me not to come because all Alaric was bringing Maragold and you wanted to show her family that you were respectable. Those were his exact words. All Alaric looked uneasily at our parents. I didn’t know about that, he muttered quietly.
Of course you didn’t. I told you. You were too busy sending me photos of the Christmas celebration I was excluded from. My father’s face had turned scarlet. This is absurd. We’re getting off subject. The problem here is the job. No, Dad, I interrupted again. The problem here is much larger than a job. The problem is that I’ve always been considered as inferior to Allaric.
I’ve worked really hard to build this firm, to create something significant, and not one of you has expressed true interest or pride in what I’ve accomplished. A knock on the door broke the strange silence that followed. Alowan and Kalista entered with professionally neutral statements.
“You wanted us to join you, Seline?” Alan stated. “Yes, thank you,” I responded, grateful for their attendance. “Mom and Dad, this is Aloan Price, our HR director, and Kalista Rowan, my executive assistant. They’re here to help us clarify our hiring procedures.” My father frowned at the visitors. This is a family matter. Actually, I answered firmly. This started as a professional issue.
All Alaric applied for a position with my company. The fact that we are related does not affect our employment policies or procedures. Elo moved ahead. Mr. Drayton, we have a rigorous and fair hiring process. All candidates are evaluated using the same criteria. The job description clearly outlines the exact technical abilities and expertise required for the senior project manager position. My father turned back to me and said, “You are the CEO.
You may make an exception.” “I could,” I said, “but I won’t. My company’s success is dependent on placing the right individuals in the appropriate positions.” “Allaric is not qualified for a senior position.” “Is that it?” my father demanded. “You’re abandoning your family?” “No,” I answered, my voice firm. “I am upholding the professional integrity of the organization I founded.
” However, I added looking at all Alaric. We do have entry-level roles in the marketing department that may be suitable. You would have to start at the bottom and work your way up, learning the essential skills along the way, but there would be room for advancement. Allaric appeared upset. Entry level. I have 5 years of marketing experience.
Yes, I acknowledged, but not in technical project management at our company. Those are different career paths. This is insane, my father exclaimed. You are torturing your brother because of your own fears. Always attempting to show that you’re superior than everyone else. Dad, I’ve developed a $200 million firm from nothing. I had a flash of rage, but I kept my voice controlled. I employ more than 200 people.
I do not need to prove anything to anyone. What I’m attempting to do is build a great firm on merit and hard work, not nepotism. My mother, who had been unusually silent, eventually spoke up. Seline, after all these years, can you put your resentment aside and help your brother? Family should come first. That’s a convenient principle to site right now, I responded.
Where was family first when you excluded me from Christmas or when you refused to help me with my college education or when you brushed off my career as a phase for years? My mother had the grace to appear uncomfortable. Things weren’t always perfect, but they still aren’t, I gently interrupted. But I’m not going to refuse to help Allaric.
I’m providing him with a legitimate opportunity to join the company at the appropriate level and learn the business properly. That’s more aid than I’ve ever received. My father shook his head, disgusted. This is pointless. Come on, Isolda. All Alaric, we are leaving. Your sister has made her decision.
Allaric rose up and jerkily straightened his suit jacket. I wouldn’t work for you anyway, he muttered, his voice heavy with wounded pride. I have other opportunities. As they turned to depart, I called after them. All Alaric, the offer stands. If you change your mind, please contact Alowan directly.
My father ushered my mother and brother toward the door, but as they approached, my mother paused and turned back to look at me, possibly for the first time in years. Her expression was complicated, a mix of perplexity, resentment, and something else, perhaps recognition. “Your office is lovely,” she added quietly. “You’ve done well for yourself.
” It wasn’t an apology or a congratulation, but it was something, some acknowledgement, however little, of the life I’d created. Following their departure, Eloin and Kalista stayed, both looking anxious. “Are you all right?” Kalista inquired. I took a big breath and nodded. “Yes, actually, for the first time in a long time, I believe I am.
Because standing my ground, speaking my truth, and refusing to reduce myself to make others comfortable felt liberating. It seemed like I was finally becoming the person I was always supposed to be. After two weeks without hearing from my family, I put myself into work finalizing our European development plans and coordinating the transition to our new larger office space.
The confrontation with my parents and all Alaric had been unpleasant, but it had also been clarifying. For the first time, I spoke my truth without apologizing for my success or downplaying my accomplishments to make others comfortable. It was Sunday afternoon and I was relaxing on my sofa with a book and a cup of tea when my phone rang. It was my apartment building security desk.
Miss Drayton, your parents have requested to see you. Should I send them up? I sat up straight, shocked. My parents had never been to my place before, and after a moment of doubt, I consented to let them in. When I opened the door, I noticed how much older my parents were compared to two weeks previously.
My father’s shoulders were slightly bent, and my mother’s grin was cautious and doubtful. Seline, my mother murmured softly. “Thank you for visiting us. We should have contacted beforehand, but we weren’t sure you’d be willing to meet.” “Come in,” I said, stepping aside so they might enter.
They came into my living room, taking in the modern furnishings, the floor toseeiling windows with views of the city, and the tasteful art on the walls. I observed my mother’s eyes searching for family photos but finding none. “Can I get you some water, tea, and coffee?” I offered, relying on civility to get beyond the awkwardness.
“No, thank you,” my father replied, becoming calmer than he had been in my office. “We won’t be staying long.” “We sat down, my parents on the sofa and me in an armchair across from them. For a moment, no one talked.” All Alaric lost his job, my father finally remarked, getting to the point. The day after we saw you, his boss found out he’d been interviewing elsewhere and let him go.
Perl Hargrove was well known for his aversion to disloyalty, so I nodded without surprise. He’s been looking for other positions, but nothing has come through yet, my mother explained. And Margold, she broke up with him last week, said she needs to concentrate on her career. I felt a twinge of sorrow for my brother.
Losing a career and a relationship in the same week was a devastating blow for anyone. I’m sorry to hear that, I answered truly. Is he all right? My parents exchanged looks. He’s staying with us for now, my mother added. He’s struggling. I waited, thinking there was more to say until my father cleared his throat.
Seline, about what happened at your office and at Christmas? He paused, apparently struggling to continue. What your father is trying to convey? My mother said, is that we’ve been thinking and some are realizing. Realize what? I inquired, keeping my tone calm. That we’ve been unkind to you, my mother said. We didn’t see for a long time.
We did not want to see how hard you worked or what you had accomplished. We were wrong to exclude you from Christmas. It was it was cruel, my father said gruffly. The statement astonished me because I couldn’t recall ever hearing my father admit he was wrong about anything. Why are you telling me this now? I asked.
Is it because you want me to hire all Alaric? My father’s face heated. Partly, he said with surprising honesty, but also because seeing your office and firm made us realize we didn’t really know you, Seline. We were so focused on all Alaric and what we wanted for him that we never noticed what you were building.
And we should have. We should have been proud of you, my mother said softly. We should have supported you. I felt a complex combination of feelings including affirmation, lingering hurt, and cautious hope. It’s not too late, I said, to get to know each other. But it must be different. I will not undervalue myself or my accomplishments in order to make others feel better. Not anymore.
My father nodded slowly. We get it now. At least we’re trying. About all Alaric, my mother said tentatively. The offer I made still exists, I answered. He can apply for an entry-level position in our marketing department. He and everyone else will have to earn any promotions depending on their performance. But I’ll make certain he receives fair attention. That’s more than fair, my father agreed.
I’ll talk to him. After a little period of silence, my mother inquired. How did you do it, Seline? Build everything on your own. For the first time in my adult life, my mother inquired about my work with genuine interest, and I began to tell her about Teesushin’s early days, the hurdles and breakthroughs, the hard nights and modest successes that had led to where I was now.
As I spoke, I noticed a shift in my parents’ expressions. Not just acknowledgement, but a newfound respect. They were finally recognizing me as a successful woman who had produced something substantial through her own work rather than their daughter who needed to stay in her place.
When they left an hour later, nothing had been totally resolved. Years of dismissal and favoritism couldn’t be erased in a single chat, but a door had been opened, creating the prospect of a different type of connection in the future. The following week, all Alaric called Aloan to inquire about the entry-level marketing position. He sounded somber, humbled by recent events.
Aloan put him through the usual application procedure, and he was interviewed by the marketing team without any special consideration. To my surprise, he took the post when it was offered. despite the huge pay drop from his former employment. On his first day, he came to my office frightened but determined.
I want to do this well, he stated. Learn the business properly. Earn my place. That’s all anyone is asking. I said, he said, I apologize. About Christmas, about a variety of topics. I nodded, accepting his apology without taking it too lightly. Show me with actions, not words, all Alaric. That is how trust is rebuilt.
As spring went to summer, modest changes began to take place. My mother called on a daily basis, inquiring about my work with genuine curiosity. My father was slower to adjust, but he made his own attempts by sending me articles about the software business or asking questions about Techisan’s expansion plans.
Allaric shocked everyone by taking his new job seriously, arriving early, staying late, and soaking up knowledge from his co-workers. He still had moments of entitlement and occasionally wanted special treatment, but he was learning and maturing. In July, I received another invitation, this time to my parents’ anniversary dinner with no indication of who would or would not be welcome and no strings attached. It was simply an opportunity to celebrate with family.
As I confirmed my attendance, I reflected on the past 6 months. The painful Christmas exclusion had been a catalyst for change, forcing long buried issues into the open. The confrontation in my office had been uncomfortable but necessary, allowing for honesty after years of polite fiction. We were not a perfect family and we never would be.
There was too much history, too many ingrained patterns to overcome completely. But we were finding a new way forward based on truth, respect, and the recognition that family relationships, like anything worthwhile, require work, and commitment from all sides. Standing up for myself did not ruin my family, as I had feared for so many years.
Rather, it allowed something more true to sprout from the ashes of old expectations and assumptions. Something that with time and work may grow stronger and more important than what came before. For the time being, that possibility sufficed.
