“There are people who hate your light because it shines on everything they will never be.” –Donna Ashworth

My Interpretation: She did not have to attack my mother to make me hate her. She just had to make grief feel like guilt. & that is exactly what she did. Karlie did not enter my life softly. She showed up again six months after my mom died; full of perfume & opinions, as if love was something she deserved – just for surviving my father’s midlife crisis. She did not just move in. She took over. Changed everything. Erased the scent, the warmth, the home I grew up in. & then she had the audacity to expect gratitude.

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📦 The Replacement Who Needed Me to Forget

She did not like how much space my mom’s memory took up.
Did not like the stories. The pictures. The pedestal.

She wanted to erase her.
Replace her.
Make my dad say out loud that my mom “was not perfect” –
just so she would not have to live in her shadow.

She played sweet.
To Rowan. To neighbors. To strangers.

But behind closed doors?
She was cold.
Calculated.
Jealous of a ghost.

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👶🏼 The Stepmother Who Never Deserved the Title

She tried for Rowan.
I will give her that.
That part of her? It melted me.

But she never tried for me.
She was not there to support.
She was there to secure.
A home. A lifestyle. A man who would pay her way.

She brought in her grown-ass sons – moved them into my mother’s home.
Did not pay rent. Did not help.
Just let them ruin the space my mom had built.

& when my dad got laid off?
Guess who paid the mortgage?
Me.

Guess who that money supported?
Her.

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💰 The Gold Digger with a Bible in Her Purse

Karlie did not want a family.
She wanted funding.

She stuck around when my dad had money.
But when he could not bankroll her anymore?
Things unraveled fast.

Now she has herself another man.
(Though she swears she does not.)
But somehow still talks to my dad every day.
Still digs her claws in.

& when he retires?
I would not be shocked if she rides his benefits all the way down south.

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🧊 The Chill That Replaced the Warmth

I went home for the holidays once –
& did not recognize it.
No trace of my mother.
No softness. No soul.
Just Karlie’s version of “better.”
Of “hers.”

She did not need to tear my mom down in front of me.
She just had to do it in the walls.
In the rugs. In the dishes.
In every framed picture that disappeared.

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📔 The Warning She Became

Karlie was never here for us.
She was here for what she could take.
A free ride.
A roof.
A man who was too lonely to question her smile.

She taught me that some women do not want to nurture.
They want to control.

That grief makes people uncomfortable.
& that some people will try to erase your mother just to make space for themselves.

She was not a villain in everyone’s story.
But she was in mine.

xoxo ♡