Harriette Cole: If I really was a rich kid, why did I grow up in squalor?

DEAR HARRIETTE: I come from a wealthy family. My mother says I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. The only problem is that the silver spoon was never given to me.

Harriette Cole

As a child, I grew up in a small studio apartment located in a damp basement infested with roaches. My father made a lot of money, but he never used it for me. I always called him “Mr. Krabs” due to how greedy and stingy he was with his money. He was a former producer for the news. Plus he owned a business with my uncle in Trinidad.

My father was sick for a long time, and during his final days, he talked about how I would be set for life. That was a flat-out lie. My mother and I were left with nothing, unless you call thousands of dollars of debt an inheritance.

I later found out that my uncle, who I thought of as another father figure, is richer than my father ever was. He lives in a giant mansion in the mountains. He uses it to support his 30-year-old children. I, a 19-year-old with barely enough to survive, was left with nothing. I struggle to help my mom pay off my father’s debt. My uncle barely helps me.

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I feel abandoned by the people I trust most. I am barely surviving, but I am managing. I am just hurt by my family ignoring me and running off with my father’s money. As a person with a lot of pride, what should I do in a situation like this?

Poor

Source:: East Bay – Lifestyle

      

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