Reddit Stories - My GUARDIANS almost EXPELLED me at 16 due to MISTAKEN beliefs about an

Episode Date: July 2, 2025

#redditstories #askreddit #aita #guardians #expelled #mistakenbeliefs #familydrama #teenagerSummary: My GUARDIANS almost EXPELLED me at 16 due to MISTAKEN beliefs about an incident that wasn't my fault. It caused a rift in our relationship, but we eventually resolved it through open communication and understanding.Tags: redditstories, askreddit, reddit, aita, tifu, guardians, expelled, mistakenbeliefs, familydrama, teenager, communication, understanding, conflictresolution, relationships, parenting, highschool, misunderstanding, reconciliation, forgiveness, lifelessons, personalgrowthBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/reddit-stories--6237355/support.

I hope you enjoy this story. My guardians almost expelled me at 16 due to mistaken beliefs about an extramarital relationship. Many years later, they pardoned my sibling when it was revealed that she was the product of the affair, and they condemned me for it. Calling out their hypocrisy. I'm writing this down because I need to get it out of my head. I'm not even sure what I'm looking for by posting this on Reddit, maybe just to have it exist outside my own thoughts.

I'm 28 now. The events that set everything in motion started when I was 16. The main people involved are my mother, my father, and my younger sister, Chloe. Chloe is five years younger than me, so she was 11 when the first major incident happened, and she's 23 now. Then there's a man I'll call Richard, my mother's ex-boyfriend from before she met my father, or so I thought. Our family life, before I turned 16, was, from my perspective, fairly average.

We lived in a suburban house. My father worked a demanding job, often long hours, but he was generally a calm presence when he was home. My mother was a stay-at-home parent for most of our childhood, later working part-time. She was more a fluctuating presence, sometimes very involved, sometimes distant. Chloe was the baby of the family and generally received a bit more overt affection, or perhaps tolerance than I did. I was the quieter, more independent child. There were arguments between my parents, the kind that would make the air and the house feel tight, but nothing that suggested the foundations were rotten. The year I turned 16, a man named Richard contacted my mother.

I didn't know about it at first. What I noticed was my mother becoming more agitated over a period of several weeks. She was more secretive with her phone calls, often taking them in her bedroom with the door closed, or going out into the garden. My father, too, seemed more on edge, and there were more hushed, tense conversations between them after Chloe and I were supposedly asleep. One evening, my parents sat me down. My mother looked pale, and my father looked angry and uncomfortable. They told me that Richard, a man my mother had dated before marrying my father, had resurfaced. He was claiming that he and my mother had an affair around the time I was conceived. He was suggesting that I might be his biological son.

I remember just staring at them. The idea was so far outside anything I could have imagined. My mother denied the affair vehemently. She said Richard was lying, that he was bitter about their breakup decades ago and was trying to cause trouble. My father was quiet, listening to her denials. He didn't look entirely convinced. He just kept looking from her to me.

Over the next few days, the atmosphere in the house was terrible. My mother cried a lot, sometimes loudly, sometimes quietly. My father was withdrawn, and when he did speak, his voice was clicked. Richard, apparently, was persistent. He wasn't just making vague claims, he was providing specific dates and details of alleged meetings with my mother that coincided with the period before my birth. The pressure mounted. My mother kept saying Richard was a manipulative liar. My father eventually said that to put the matter to rest, they wanted me to take a paternity test. He said it was to prove Richard wrong and

protect our family from his allegations. My mother agreed, saying it would clear her name. I didn't feel I had a choice. I was 16. I agreed to do it. The wait for the appointment and then for the results was one of the longest periods of my life. I tried to act normal, go to school, do my homework, but the house felt like a pressure cooker. My parents were barely speaking to each other, and when they spoke to me, it felt forced, like they were looking at me and seeing a question mark. Chloe was young, and I don't think she understood the specifics, but she knew something was very wrong. The day the paternity test results were due, my father picked them up.

He came home and he, my mother, and I sat at the kitchen table. He opened the envelope and read the document. He looked up and said, quite flatly, that the test confirmed he was my biological father. There was a strange mix of reactions. My mother burst into tears, repeating that she had told them that she knew it all along, that Richard was a liar. For a moment, I felt a wave of relief so intense it almost made me dizzy. My father was my father. The nightmare was over. But it wasn't. A day or two after the results, after the initial wave of my mother's proclaimed vindication had subsided, my parents sat me down again.

This conversation was quieter, almost colder than the one where they revealed Richard's claims. My father did most of the talking. He said that while the test was conclusive, Richard's detailed knowledge of my mother's movements and his insistence still troubled him. He said that my mother had admitted to being in contact with Richard around that time, though she maintained it was innocent and that Richard had twisted things. My mother sat there, looking down at her hands. Then my father said something that I have never forgotten. He told me that they, meaning him and my mother, had discussed it,

and they were considering asking me to move out for a while. He said that even with the paternity test, the whole situation had cast a shadow, and Richard's claims, specifically his assertion about a continued connection with my mother, made them think there might be more to the story that my mother wasn't admitting, potentially unrelated to my paternity but still a disruption. He used the phrase just in case. Just in case what? Just in case I was a living reminder of a stressful period?

Just in case my presence would continue to cause tension? Or just in case, despite the DNA, some part of them still doubted, or was disgusted by the possibility, however remote or disproven. My mother didn't contradict she just sat there, silent, not looking at me. The idea that they would even consider this, after a DNA test proved I was their son, after weeks of me being under a cloud of suspicion because of her past, was beyond anything I could process. They were actually talking about kicking me out, their 16-year-old son, whose paternity had just been confirmed, because of an ex-boyfriends and proven allegations about my mother

and her lack of complete candor about her interactions with him. In the end, they didn't kick me out. Perhaps they saw the look on my face. Perhaps they realized how extreme it would be. Life didn't return to normal, though. A fragile, artificial peace settled over the house. My mother acted as if the whole thing should be forgotten, that since she was proven right about my paternity, everything was fine. My father remained distant for a long time. He never apologized for suggesting I should leave. My mother never apologized for the situation her past actions had created. My relationship with both of them was irrevocably altered.

The trust one had in them, the feeling of security, was gone. I saw them differently. I saw my mother as someone capable of actions that could destabilize our entire family and then not fully own the consequences. I saw my father as someone who, when faced with a crisis, would consider, considered discarding me to alleviate his own discomfort or suspicion, even when faced with contrary evidence. I became more withdrawn at home. I focused on school, on getting good grades, on creating a future for myself that wasn't dependent on them. I spent more time with friends or in my room.

The topic of Richard, the affair claims, the paternity test, and the conversation about me leaving was never mentioned again by any of us. It became a massive, unspoken thing in the middle of our family life. Chloe, I believe, remained largely unaware of the full extent of what I had been put through, though she knew there had been a big fight involving a man from mom's past. Years passed. I finished high school with good grades. I went to a university in a different city, which was a relief. The physical distance helped create emotional distance. I studied hard, got a degree, and then a good job. I built my own life, my own support system. I was independent. My contact with my parents during these years was regular but superficial.

We spoke on the phone every couple of weeks. I visited for major holidays. The old tension was still there, under the surface, at least for me. They seemed to have moved on, or at least to have buried it effectively. Chloe grew up, went to college herself. She maintained a closer relationship with them, which was understandable. She hadn't been the subject of that particular family crisis. I never discussed what happened with her in detail. It wasn't her burden to carry. I was polite, I fulfilled the basic duties of a son,

but I kept a significant part of myself protected from them. There was no real warmth, no deep connection. It was a functional relationship, nothing more. About six months ago, everything was thrown into upheaval again. My father, by complete chance, discovered some old messages on an old email account of my mothers that she rarely used but had remained logged in on an old family computer. He wasn't looking for anything specific, just clearing out old data. These messages were not from Richard.

They were from another man, someone I'd never heard of. The messages, dating back over two decades, detailed an ongoing affair my mother had with this other man. An affair that occurred after I was born, but crucially, around the time Chloe was conceived. The messages left little doubt. My father confronted my mother. This time, the evidence was apparently undeniable, and from what I was told later, by my father, in a rare, strained phone call, my mother admitted everything. She admitted to the affair. She admitted that she had always known that Chloe was not my father's biological child. She had hidden this for Chloe's entire life, for over 20 years. She had allowed my father to raise Chloe, love her, provide for her,

all while knowing this secret. She had watched me go through the paternity scare at 16, knowing she had her own, much larger secret about Chloe's origins. The fallout from this was immediate and messy. My father was devastated, naturally. But his reaction, and my mother's, towards Chloe was what triggered the current situation with me. Chloe, now 23, was told the truth. Understandably, she was shocked, confused, and incredibly upset. Her entire identity was thrown into question. But my parents, both of them, rallied around her.

They were an endless source of comfort and support for Chloe. My father, the man who had been betrayed, assured Chloe that it didn't change anything, that he was still her dad in every way that mattered. My mother was full of apologies, to Chloe. They presented a united front of unwavering support for Chloe. When I heard about all of this, and specifically about how they were handling it with Chloe, I was stunned. Not that Chloe deserved anything less than support, she was an innocent in all of this. But the hypocrisy was hurtful. I remembered vividly being 16, being made to feel like a potential problem, a source of the subject of a just-in-case discussion about being kicked out, even after a DNA test

proved my father was my father. Chloe's situation was the actualization of the fears they had supposedly harbored about me, but my mother was the one who had actively deceived everyone for decades. I called them. I spoke to both my mother and my father. I didn't yell. I calmly, but very directly, pointed out the vast difference in their reactions. I reminded them of what they put me through when I was 16.

I asked them how they could justify comforting Chloe and expressing unwavering support for her, which, again, she deserved from them. While I had faced suspicion and the threat of abandonment under far less certain, and ultimately false, circumstances initiated by my mother's poor judgment with Richard. I asked them if they understood how this made me feel, seeing this disparity. I wasn't asking for Chloe to be treated poorly. I was asking for an acknowledgement of how I had been treated, perhaps an apology now that they had a direct point of comparison for parental behavior in a paternity crisis. Their response was a united front of deflection and attack.

My mother said I was being selfish, trying to make Chloe's crisis about myself. My father told me I was being heartless and unfeeling to bring up old history at a time like this when Chloe was suffering. He said my situation was completely different because Richard was an external accuser. whereas this was an internal family matter they were handling with compassion. The fact that my mother was the common denominator in both situations, and that her actions were the root cause, seemed to escape them. They refused to acknowledge any hypocrisy or any wrongdoing in how they treated me years ago. That was the final straw.

Their complete inability to see, or to admit, the gross imbalance in their behavior, their readiness to attack me for simply asking for equal consideration or at least an acknowledgement of past wrongs, it just severed the final, frayed threat of any obligation I felt towards them. I told them that if they couldn't understand my position, if they couldn't see the blatant hypocrisy, and if they were going to call me heartless

for wanting my own past trauma acknowledged in light of current events, then I had nothing more to say to them. I informed them that I was done with our relationship, such as it was. I then ended the call and blocked their numbers. I blocked them on social media. I wanted no further contact. A few weeks later, the shaming started.

My mother and then my father through his own account, began posting vague, self-pitying statuses online. Things about children who forget the sacrifices their parents made, and the pain of being cut off by someone you love for no good reason, and how some people lack compassion when a family is going through a crisis. It was clear they were referring to me. Mutual acquaintances started asking me subtle questions. I had no intention of letting them control the narrative and paint me as the villain after

everything. So, I made a single, detailed post on my own social media page. I didn't use aggressive language. I just laid out the facts, very plainly. I described the situation when I was 16, the paternity test, their threat to kick me out just in case. Then I described the recent revelation about Chloe, my mother's decades-long deception, and my parents' supportive reaction to Chloe versus their condemnation of me when I ask for

parody of acknowledgement. I stated that their online posts were clearly directed at me and were a misrepresentation of why I had ceased contact. I finished by saying I had made my decision to step away from my own well-being and wished them the best in resolving their current family issues without my involvement. The reaction to my post was significant. Many people who knew our family expressed shock. Some who had seen my parents vague posts immediately understood the context I provided. From what I heard through the grapevine, I didn't engage directly, my parents were deeply embarrassed. They took down their posts within a day. My mother deactivated her account for a while. So that's where things stand.

I cut them off. They tried to manipulate public perception. I countered with the full truth, and they were publicly humiliated. I feel no remorse for telling the truth. I feel no remorse for telling the especially since they initiated the public aspect. There's no going back from this. They haven't tried to contact me since my post, and I haven't reached out. My question is, after laying all of this out, did I take it too far by airing all the details publicly? They started the online part, but I escalated it with specifics. Was it justified, given the history and their actions, or did I become part of the problem by engaging publicly? I'm not looking for reconfigure. I'm certain that bridge is burned. And frankly, I was the one who lit the match after

they handed me the kindling. I suppose I'm just trying to process whether my response, the public reveal, was a proportional reaction to their provocations and the sum total of their treatment of me over the years. Update 1, about three weeks have passed since I made my original post. Firstly, thank you to everyone who read my story and offered their perspectives. I received a lot of comments and private messages. I didn't reply to many individually, as I was still processing a lot, but I read all of them. It was, in a strange way, helpful to see it written down and to know that other people could see the pattern of behavior I was describing. Many people asked for some clarifications, so I'll try to address the most common ones here. Chloe's age and reaction.

Chloe was 23 when the truth about her paternity came out. As I mentioned, she was dead. She was devastated. From what little I've heard indirectly, I have not spoken to Chloe since I cut contact with my parents. She is still struggling but is receiving a lot of support from my father, and my mother is trying to make amends with her. I don't know the current status of her relationship with the man who is her biological father, or if contact has been made. My issue was never with Chloe or the support she received. It was with the stark contrast in my parents' behavior towards their children and remarkably similar, from a parental crisis perspective, situations, and their denial of this disparity. What equal treatment meant to me? When I spoke to

my parents and mentioned equal treatment, I was not asking for them to treat Chloe with suspicion or to threaten her. That would be cruel, and she, like me, was an innocent party in her own paternity situation. What I was asking for was an acknowledgement from them of how unfairly I had been treated at 16. I wanted them to see the hypocrisy in their actions. I wanted them to understand that their response to me, suspicion, potential abandonment even after a confirmatory DNA test, and zero apology for the distress caused by my mother's interactions with Richard, was damaging and wrong. Especially when contrasted with their current outpouring of unconditional support for Chloe, whose situation stemmed from a far more significant and prolonged deception by my mother.

An apology for their past actions towards me, in light of their enlightened handling of Chloe's situation, would have been a start. Instead, they label me heartless. Parents online shaming, specifics, their posts were not direct attacks naming me, but heavily implied. My mother posted things like, It's a cruel world when your own child turns their back on you in your darkest hour, and you try your best as a parent, but sometimes that's not enough for ungrateful hearts. My father's posts were similar, mentioning the younger generation's lack of loyalty and how easily some people forget who raise them when family matters get tough. These were interspersed with comments from their friends offering sympathy for what a tough time

they were going through, clearly without any real knowledge of the underlying facts. It was designed to make me look like a cold, ungrateful son who abandoned his family during a crisis I had nothing to do with creating. My online rebuttal, specifics, my post was factual and chronological. I detailed the Richard incident at 16, the paternity test, the conversation about me potentially having to leave home just in case. I then fast forwarded to the recent discovery about Chloe, explaining that my mother had known Chloe's paternity for over two decades. I stated that my parents were supporting Chloe,

which I reiterated was appropriate, but had called me heartless for pointing out their different treatment of me years prior. I mentioned that I had decided to cut contact due to this pattern of behavior and their current denial and accusations, and that their vague online posts were what prompted me to share the full context. I did not include screenshots of messages or the paternity test, as some asked. I felt the detailed narrative of events was sufficient to make my point. I did not use inflammatory language.

I simply stated what happened. Reading the comments on my original post, many people validated my feelings about the hypocrisy and the injustice of my parents' actions, both past and present. Some questioned if going public was the right move, suggesting it might escalate things or make reconciliation impossible. Since reconciliation was never my goal, it's far too late for that. The damage was done at 16 and compounded ever since, that particular concern wasn't a factor for me.

My primary motivation for the public post was to correct the false narrative they were trying to create. They brought it into the public domain with their vague accusations. I felt I had the right to defend myself with the truth. Thinking about it further these past few weeks, my resolution. resolve has only solidified. Their attempt to paint me as the villain was a predictable continuation of their lifelong pattern. Deny, deflect, and designate a scapegoat when their actions are questioned. My mother did it with Richard, and both parents did it with me when I challenged their hypocrisy.

I don't regret setting the record straight. If anything, it felt like a necessary act of self-preservation and a reclaiming of my own life. Since my public post and their subsequent silence, they took their posts down quickly, as I mentioned, there haven't been any direct new actions I've needed to take regarding them. I've maintained my no-contact boundary. Their phone numbers remain blocked. I've made it clear to a couple of mutual acquaintances who tried to mediate or get my side that my public post was my side, it was the truth, and there's nothing further to discuss. I told them politely but firmly that I am not interested in any messages relayed from my parents. One of my aunts, my father's sister, did reach out. She said she had seen my post and was shocked

by what I had revealed about the just-in-case conversation when I was 16. She said my father had never mentioned that detail to his side of the family. She didn't try to excuse my parents' behavior but expressed sadness over the family fracturing. I listened to what she had to say, thanked her for her call, but reiterated that my decision regarding my parents was final. I told her my relationship with her didn't need to change, but I would not be discussing my parents with her further. She seemed to respect that. The immediate outcome of my public rebuttal has been silence from my parents' camp, at least towards me directly. The public embarrassment I mentioned in my original post seems to have been effective in halting their attempts at online manipulation.

I heard from a cousin that there was a lot of uncomfortable discussion among their friends and some extended family members who had only heard my parents' vague side of things initially. My post apparently filled in a lot of blanks and shifted some perspectives. I don't feel triumphant. There's no joy in any of this. It's a sad, messy end to what was already a deeply flawed relationship. But I do feel a sense of quiet. The constant low-level stress of managing their expectations, of walking on eggshells, of waiting for the next drama, is gone. By cutting contact and laying the truth bare, I've removed myself from their sphere of influence. I haven't spoken to Chloe. I don't know if she saw my post or what she thinks of it.

My dispute was never with her. I hope she finds her way through her own situation. If she ever chose to reach out to me independently in the future, as an adult, I would probably be open to a conversation, but I wouldn't initiate it. My focus right now is on my own peace. The actions taken were to preserve that. I stand by them. Update 2. It's now been just over a year since my original post and about 10 months since my first update where I detailed the immediate aftermath of my decision to go public with the family history. A lot can settle in a year, and a lot can also become more deeply entrenched. The situation with my parents is one of unbroken silence. They have made no attempts to contact me since their online posts were

dismantled by my public statement of facts. I have made no attempts to contact them. It is a complete cessation of communication. From what I gather through very indirect channels, my aunt, mostly, though we adhere to my boundary of not discussing my parents in depth, occasional snippets about general family news sometimes filter through, they have largely withdrawn into themselves. One significant, though not unexpected, development I heard about was that my father legally adopted Chloe. Given that he always considered her his daughter, and in light of the truth about her biological origins coming out, this seems like a step he would take to formalize their bond. My aunt mentioned it in passing. I have no particular feelings about this other than

acknowledging it as a fact. It doesn't change anything about my situation or my decisions. It perhaps underscores his commitment to Chloe, which further highlights the difference in his past preparedness to potentially discard me. My relationship with Chloe remains non-existent. I have not heard from her, and I have not reached out. I respect that she is likely still processing the revelations about her own paternity and navigating her relationship with our parents and potentially her biological father. My aunt mentioned once that Chloe is focusing on herself, which I think is for the best. If my actions in exposing the family's history caused her additional pain, that is regrettable, but it was a consequence of my

parents' initial actions and their subsequent attempt to malign me. My truth was intertwined with hers, unfortunately. My mother, according to my aunt, has been very focused on her relationship with Chloe, trying to repair the damage her decades of deception caused. It seems Chloe is her main priority, which is understandable. Whether their relationship can truly recover is not for me to say. The family as I knew it, is effectively over. Holidays and birthdays have passed without any contact. It was strange at first, this absence of even simple communication, but it has quickly become my new normal. This is likely my final update on this matter. The situation has reached a kind of stasis. The lines have been drawn, and everyone seems to be

living within them. I don't foresee any circumstances under which I would reinitiate contact with my parents.