Reddit Stories - BETRAYED EXCLUDED From Dad And Stepmom'S Lavish HOUSEWARMING Soiree Branded As

Episode Date: June 5, 2025

#redditstories #askreddit #aita #familydrama #betrayal #exclusion #housewarming #relationshipsSummary: A person feels betrayed and excluded from their dad and stepmom's lavish housewarming soiree. They are branded as the outcast, causing emotional turmoil and questioning of family dynamics. The individual struggles with feelings of rejection and hurt from being left out.Tags: redditstories, askreddit, reddit, aita, tifu, familydrama, betrayal, exclusion, housewarming, relationships, dad, stepmom, lavish, soiree, outcast, rejection, hurt, emotional turmoil, questioning, dynamicsBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/reddit-stories--6237355/support.

I hope you enjoy this story. Father and new spouse did not include me in their home celebration because they viewed me as an outsider. Hello Reddit, I am using a temporary account and aliases for this post. Post because I really don't want anyone to trace this back to me. I need to get this off my chest, and I'm hoping for some advice on what to do next. A little about me, I'm a 28-year-old guy working as a software engineer in Silicon Valley. I've been doing pretty well for myself, especially after a recent promotion. Life's been good, at least on the surface.

I've got a decent place, a fancy car, and enough money to not worry about bills. But, as the saying goes, money can't buy happiness, and I've been feeling the weight of that more than ever lately. The real issue is my family, or what's left of it. My mom passed away in a car accident when I was 14. It was a rough time, but it got even worse when my dad remarried just a year later. He married Diane, a woman who, to be blunt, I can't stand. She's entitled, manipulative, and somehow has my dad wrapped around her finger. My half-sister Melissa was born not long after they got married.

She's 12 now, and honestly, she's the only person in that household I care about. Diane does her best to keep Melissa away from me, but Melissa's stubborn and we've managed to stay close despite her mother's best efforts. Growing up, I always felt like an outsider. My dad and Diane made it clear that their new life didn't really have a place for me, but I tried to stay connected. I was always there when they needed something, trying to be a good son even though it often felt like a one-way street. A few weeks ago, I was having a pretty normal day at work, code reviews, a couple of meetings, and some brainstorming with the team. I'm pretty heads down when I'm working, so when my phone started buzzing on my desk,

I almost ignored it. But then I saw it was my dad calling. It's rare for him to call, especially during the day, so I picked up, thinking something might be wrong. To my surprise, he wasn't calling with bad news. He asked if I could help them move to their new house. They were finally upgrading to a bigger place, which I knew Diane had been pushing for forever. At first, I was actually excited. I thought maybe this could be a chance to finally connect with my dad, to show him I'm still here and willing to help.

But there was this nagging feeling in the back of my mind, a reminder of all the times I'd been disappointed before. I decided to take some time off work to help them out. I had a pretty important project going on, but I figured family comes first, right? I went out and bought new tools, ropes, and all the stuff I thought might come in handy for the move. I even picked up some heavy-duty gloves to protect my hands. As I was preparing, I thought maybe we'd bond over the shared work, or at least have a decent conversation for once.

I overheard some colleagues talking about their close relationships with their parents, how they'd spend weekends together or help each other out with home projects. And I wanted to make this work with my dad. I thought, maybe this time, things will be different. I arrived at their old house early on moving day, ready to get started, hoping to impress my dad and maybe even get a thank you. But as soon as I walked in, Dad and Diane barely acknowledged me. Diane was already barking orders at the movers they'd hired,

and Dad just gave me a nod before going back to whatever he was doing. The old house was a two-story place that had seen better days. It wasn't huge, but it held a lot of memories for me, most of which they'd probably forgotten. I started working, lifting heavy furniture and packing up boxes while Dad and Diane mostly stood around, supervising. I overheard Diane complimenting the hired movers for their professionalism, completely ignoring the fact that I was sweating bullets. doing just as much work, if not more.

At one point, Diane accidentally knocked over a photo frame that held a picture of me as a kid. The glass shattered all over the floor. Instead of apologizing, she just shrugged and said something like, well, that's old and it was going to go in the trash anyway. My dad didn't even react. He didn't stand up for me, didn't say anything. It was like the photo, and by extension, I didn't matter. To make matters worse, Melissa wasn't even around.

Diane had sent her off to a friend's house, probably to keep her from helping or spending time with me. I kept moving things, but the that moment still stayed with me. As the day went on, I stumbled across some of my old childhood belongings. They were stuffed in garbage bags, clearly meant to be thrown out. I couldn't believe it. These were things I'd thought were lost or maybe stored away from. safekeeping. Instead, they were headed for the trash. I ended up saving a few items and stuffed them in the trunk of my car when no one was looking. The new house was everything their old one

wasn't, big, modern, and in a pretty rich neighborhood. Diane was clearly in her element, giving a grand tour to some of their friends and family who'd shown up. I hung back, trying not to get in the way, but also feeling more out of place than ever. It was like I was a guest in someone else's life. Diane didn't even bother to include me in the tour. She was too busy showing off the fancy kitchen and spacious living room. I overheard her telling my dad how relieved she was that the move was over, and that now they could start fresh.

That's when I heard it, the moment that shattered whatever hope I had left. My dad agreed with her, saying something about how it was good to keep the past mistakes separate from their new life. I knew he was talking about me. It took everything in me not to blow up right then and there. I was torn between confronting them and just walking away. I decided to keep my mouth shut, not wanting to make a scene in front of their guests. But as the day went on, I couldn't keep it in anymore.

After everyone had left, I finally snapped. I confronted my dad and Diane about what I'd overheard. Diane put on this fake, concerned expression and gave me a half-hearted apology, saying I must have misunderstood. My dad, as usual, tried to play peacemaker, saying it wasn't meant like that, that I was taking things too seriously. That was it for me. I let out years of pent-up feelings, how I always felt like an outsider, how they treated me like an inconvenience, how they barely acknowledged me as part of the family. Diane didn't even bother pretending to care after a while. She just rolled her eyes and told me to calm down, warning me not to make a scene in front of their new neighbors. I couldn't take it anymore.

I stormed out of there, barely holding back tears. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing how much they'd hurt me. The drive home was a blur. I was so angry and hurt that I almost got into an accident. When I got back to my apartment, I just shut myself off from the world. I took a few more days off work, claiming I was sick, but really, I just couldn't face anyone. A few days later, I got a text for my dad. It was short and to the point, basically saying he was sorry things got heated and that he didn't want any bad blood between us.

But I could tell from the tone that he was more concerned about keeping up appearances than actually addressing what had happened. Then a week or so later, I was scrolling through Facebook late one night. Yeah, I know, Facebook is kind of old school, but I still use it to keep up with some family and old friends. That's when I stumbled on something that made my blood boil. Diane had posted a bunch of photos from their housewarming party. It was a big event, tons of people were there, including some of our extended family that I hadn't seen in years. They were all smiles, enjoying the new place. But what really got me was that Diane had tagged everyone in the photos, except me.

It was like I didn't exist. Even more insulting, they had told the guests that I was too busy with work to attend. I felt like I'd been slapped in the face. The next day, I confronted my dad about it. I wasn't expecting much, but I needed to hear what lame excuse he'd come up with this time. He tried to play it off, saying it was just a misunderstanding, that they thought I wouldn't be interested in a boring housewarming party. Diane, of course, chimed in with her usual nonsense, claiming she didn't want to bother me with family stuff since I'm so busy with my high-powered career. But it was obvious they'd been downplaying my role in their lives, especially to their new neighbors.

They were creating this narrative where I was some distant, unimportant figure, a past mistake they could convene. forget. At first, I wanted to do something dramatic, something that would make them regret ever treating me like this. But then I remembered something, I had set up their entire smart home system as a favor when they first moved in. I had access to everything, the lights, the thermostat, the security cameras, even the smart locks. The more I thought about it, the more appealing the idea became. I started to plan out how I could mess with them in small, annoying ways. Nothing too drastic, just enough to make their lives a little more difficult. I knew it was petty, but I didn't care. They deserved it. I started small. The first thing I did was make the lights

in their house flicker at random intervals. Not enough to be alarming, but just enough to be annoying. Then I moved on to the TV, making it turn on and off at odd times, usually when Diane was trying to watch one of her shows. After that, I messed with the thermostat, making it switch between too hot and too cold in the middle of the night. The security system was next, I set it to trigger false alarms a couple of times a week, usually when they were just getting comfortable. I could see their frustration growing with each passing day.

I timed everything perfectly, using the security cameras to watch their reactions. There was a strange satisfaction in seeing Diane freak. out when the light started flickering, or when the TV would suddenly switch to a different channel. It was like a private little show that only I could see. It didn't take long for them to start thinking the house was cursed or something. I overheard my dad on the phone, talking to a friend about how weird things were happening at the new place. Diane was convinced the house was haunted. She even called in some psychic to cleanse the place. I'm not kidding. I watched through the cameras as this so-called psychic walked around with a bunch of sage,

chanting and waving her hands in the air. I couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous it all was. Melissa, unfortunately, got caught up in the whole thing. She was scared and refused to sleep in her room, convinced that something was lurking in the shadows. That part made me feel a bit guilty, but at the same time, I couldn't help but think this was all on Diane and my dad. They created this mess. Nothing they did worked. The lights kept flickering, the alarms kept going off, and their frustration grew by the day. A few days later, I got a call from my tech-savvy nephew. He'd been visiting my dad and Diane and noticed something off with their smart home system.

He dug into it and found traces of tampering, which he traced back to me. I wasn't exactly hiding my tracks, so it didn't take him long to figure it. it out. I thought that was the end of it, but I should have known better. One evening, there was a knock on my apartment door. I wasn't expecting anyone, so I was surprised when I opened it to find my dad standing there, looking more desperate than I'd ever seen him. He didn't even bother with pleasantries. He just asked me, point blank, if I had anything to do with the weird stuff happening at their house. I didn't deny it. I couldn't lie to his face, not this time. I told him exactly what I'd done and why. He was stunned at first, probably not expecting me to be so blunt. Then the shouting

started. He accused me of being childish, of taking things too far. I fired back, telling him how he'd made me feel like an outsider for years, how he'd let Diane push me out of his life. The argument escalated, and soon my neighbors were peeking out of their doors, probably wondering what the hell was going on. I didn't care. I let out everything I'd been holding in for years. By the time it was over, my dad looked like a broken man. He left without saying another word. Not long after that, Diane showed up at my workplace. She didn't cause a scene, which was a pretty huge surprise to me, but it was clear she was there to confront me. My boss wasn't thrilled about the whole thing, and I ended up having to explain what was going on.

It was humiliating, to say the least. Word spread quickly through the family. My dad made sure of that. Soon, I was getting bombarded with angry texts and calls from relatives who couldn't believe I'd done something like this. Social media was a nightmare, passive-aggressive posts, people taking sides, the whole nine yards. Some relatives reached out in support, saying they understood why I did it, while others condemned me, calling me immature and vindictive. The only person who didn't say anything was Melissa.

A few days later, she secretly messaged me, telling me she missed me and that she didn't believe the things her mom was saying about me. That message hit me hard. I didn't want to drag her into this mess, but I was glad to know she still cared. Around this time, I started seeing ads for DNA testing kits popping up everywhere online. I don't know if it was some weird coincidence or if the Internet just knew I was going through a family crisis, but I decided to order one on a whim. I figured, why not? Maybe it would be interesting to see where my ancestors came from. A few weeks later, the results came back and what I found out just broke me. According to the test, my dad wasn't my biological father.

I couldn't believe it at first. I double-checked everything, thinking there must have been some mistake, but no. The test was accurate. Suddenly, so much of my life made sense, the way my dad had always treated me, the way Diane had pushed me out. I wasn't really part of their family. I never had been. I couldn't let this go. I showed up unannounced at my dad and Diane's house with the DNA test results.

I needed to know the truth, even if it was painful. When I showed my dad the results, he looked like he'd seen a ghost. He finally confessed that my mom had had a brief affair with his best friend, and that's where I came from. Diane's reaction was the worst. She looked shocked at first, but then this smug smile spread across her face, like she was pleased to finally have something to hold over me. I felt sick.

I realized that I'd been chasing after something that was never real. My whole life, I'd been trying to be part of a family that wasn't really mine. After that confrontation, I decided to cut all ties with my dad and Diane. There was no point in trying to fix something that had been broken from the start. It was a tough decision, but it felt like the right one. I couldn't keep torturing myself by staying connected to people who didn't care about me. The hardest part was deciding what to do about Melissa. She's innocent in all of this, and I didn't want to lose her.

We've kept in touch secretly, and I've promised her that I'll always be there for her, no matter what. As for the rest of the family, reactions were mixed. Some were supportive, others were furious, and some just stayed out of it altogether. I can't say I blame them. It's a messed up situation all around. So, that's where I'm at right now. It's been a pretty tough. I'm not sure if I'll ever look for my biological father. He obviously never looked for me, so maybe it's better to just let that part of my life go. Thanks for reading if you made it this far. I appreciate any advice you guys have on how to move forward from here. I'll update if anything new happens, but for now, I'm just trying to figure out what comes next.

Final update, hey Reddit, it's been about two weeks since I posted my original story. First off, I want to thank everyone who took the time to read through that long saga and share their thoughts. I didn't expect my post to get as much attention as it did, and the overwhelming response was, well, overwhelming. I've never seen so many people agree on something in my life. The consensus? Go no contact and stay no contact. Seriously, if I had a dollar for every time someone told me to cut ties permanently, I'd be able to buy another smart home system just to mess with for fun. But here's the thing, I didn't stick to the plan.

I know, I know. But before you roll your eyes and call me a doormat or worse, let me explain what happened. I'm just going to say it, I reached out to my dad. I had already done it by the time I posted the original story, which is why I didn't mention it then. Maybe I was hoping for some validation that I wasn't making a huge mistake, or maybe I just needed to vent before dealing with the fallout. Either way, I made the first move and broke no contact. It wasn't some grand gesture.

I didn't show up at his doorstep with a boombox over my head, blasting in your eyes. It was a simple, short text. Something like, we need to talk. Can you meet up this week? I didn't get an immediate response, which made me feel like an idiot for even sending it. But later that evening, my phone buzzed. It was my dad. Sure.

When and where? So why did I do it? Why break the no-contact rule when everyone, including my own rational brain, was telling me it was a bad idea? It's simple, really, I needed closure. There were so many unresolved issues. So many things left unsaid. The DNA test, my mom's affair, the years of feeling like I didn't belong. It was all weighing on me, and I couldn't just walk away without some kind of resolution.

It wasn't about forgiveness or reconciliation, at least not entirely. It was about understanding. I needed to know why my dad treated. me the way he did, why he let Diane walk all over me, and why he never told me the truth about my parentage. I needed answers to move on, and I wasn't going to get them by ignoring him forever. Look, I get that a lot of you are probably thinking this was a weak move, that I'm being stupid for even giving him another chance. Trust me, I've thought the same thing. I've read the comments calling me a doormat, saying I'm setting myself up for more pain.

But here's the thing, this isn't about weakness. It's about growth. I've spent my whole life letting other people control the narrative, dictate how things should be. Reaching out to my dad wasn't about caving in or being a pushover. It was about taking control of my own story, on my own terms. I knew it was risky, but I also knew that if I didn't do this, I'd never be able to truly move forward. We agreed to meet at my place. I didn't want to do it at his house, especially with Diane around.

She has a knack for making bad situations worse, and I didn't need her meddling in this conversation. Plus, I wanted to be in a space where I felt comfortable and in control. So, my apartment it was. In the days leading up to the meeting, I was a mess. I kept running different scenarios in my head, trying to predict how things would go. Would he be defensive? Apologetic? Would he even show up? I didn't know what to expect, and the uncertainty was driving me crazy. When the day finally came, I was pacing around my living room, checking the clock every few minutes.

Then, right on time, there was a knock at the door. There he was, standing awkwardly in the hallway, looking a bit older and more worn out than I remembered. It had only been a few weeks since we last saw each other, but it felt like years. We exchanged a stiff, awkward greeting, no hug, no handshake, just a mumbled hay from both of us. He followed me into the living room, and we both sat down, him on the couch, me in the armchair across from him. For a few moments, we just sat there in silence, neither of us knowing how to start. Eventually, I broke the silence with some small talk. It felt ridiculous, but it was the only way to eat. ease into the real conversation. We talked about work, the weather, even the new tech gadgets we'd both

been eyeing. It was all surface level, but it helped break the ice. After a while, the conversation naturally shifted to more serious topics. I could see my dad's reaction change, he seemed more guarded, like he knew what was coming but wasn't sure how to handle it. I started by asking him how things were at the new house. He gave a non-committal answer, clearly not interested in talking about Diane or the housewarming fiasco. I didn't waste any more time. I brought up the DNA test, the affair, and all the things I'd learned recently. I asked him why he never told me the truth, why he let me grow up thinking I was his son when I wasn't. His first reaction was defensive. He said he didn't want to hurt me, that he thought it was better if I didn't know.

know. He admitted he wasn't sure how to handle the situation after my mom passed away, and by the time he remarried, it just seemed easier to let things be. He apologized, but it felt half-hearted, like he was saying it because he knew he should, not because he actually felt it. I pushed him on it, asking about specific incidents from my childhood, times when he seemed distant or when he let Diane treat me like an outsider. He claimed he hadn't realized how bad things were, that he was too caught up in his own grief and trying to build a new life to see what was happening. At one point, he got emotional, talking about how much he struggled after my mom died even after she cheated on him, how he wasn't equipped to handle being a single parent, much less

of a child that wasn't his own. He said he'd always loved me, but that he didn't know how to show it properly. It was a lot to take in, and I could tell he was struggling to express himself. I brought up Diane, how she manipulated him, how she treated me like a nuisance. He didn't deny it, but he also didn't fully acknowledge the extent of it. He said she was just trying to do her best and that she had her own way of dealing with things. I could tell he was still in denial about how toxic she'd been, and that was frustrating. I tried to explain how much her actions had hurt me, how they'd made me feel like I wasn't really part of the family. He listened, but I'm not sure he fully understood. I think he wanted to

believe that Diane's intentions were good, even if her actions weren't. It was clear he was still in a tough spot, confused between defending his wife and acknowledging my pain. After we talked about the past as much as we could, the conversation turned to the future. I asked him what he wanted going forward, if he even saw a place for me in his life. He said he did, but he said he did, but he was a but I made it clear that things would have to be different. I told him I needed boundaries, Diane couldn't be part of our interactions, at least for now. I couldn't handle more of her manipulative behavior. He agreed, though I could tell it wasn't easy for him.

We talked about setting up regular times to meet, just the two of us, to start rebuilding our relationship. It was hard, but it was a start. I wasn't ready to dive back in completely, but I also wasn't ready to walk in. away for good. As the conversation slowed down, we both seemed exhausted, emotionally drained from everything we'd just gone through. There wasn't much left to say, so we wrapped it up. We stood up awkwardly, and for a moment, in the end, we settled for a stiff, awkward hug, one of those half-hearted hugs where neither person really knows what to do. At least it was something. He left after that, and closed the door behind him. I sat down on the first. I sat down on the

the couch and tried to process everything. I decided that for now, I'd maintain limited, controlled contact. I wasn't going to jump back into things full force, but I wasn't going to cut him out completely either. It was a compromise, one that I hoped would give me the space I needed to heal while still keeping the door open for a possible future relationship. I know some of you might still think I'm making a mistake that I'm setting myself up for more pain. And maybe you're right. But this was something I needed to do for myself. I needed to face my dad and confront the issues that have been haunting me for years. It wasn't easy, and it didn't magically fix everything, but it was a step forward.

I appreciate all the advice and support you guys have given me, even if I didn't follow it to the letter. At the end of the day, this is my life, and I have to make the decisions that feel right for me, even if they're not the most popular ones. So that's it, Reddit. That's where things stand right now. I don't know what the future holds, but I'm hopeful that I can find some peace with all of this, one way or another. Thanks again for all your input, even the tough love, it's helped me more than you know. I'll probably lurk around here for a while, but I think this might be my last update.

I've got a lot of work to do on myself and my relationships, and I think it's time to focus on that. Until then, take care, everyone. And if you ever need help setting up a smart home system, well, maybe don't call me. I might be a little too good at it.