Her Three Toasts, My Final Goodbye

I came across a video my mom posted of her toasting herself, and it went viral.

I laughed at how trendy she thought she was at her age and clicked to watch.

“First glass, to me, for raising two daughters on my own.”

“Second glass, to my baby girl, who just got into her dream university this year.”

“Third glass, to my eldest daughter…”

I waited with anticipation, but then she added,

“Third glass, to my eldest daughter, who I never gave up on, despite her selfishness, bad temper, stinginess, and overall shameful behavior.”

The smile on my face froze. I immediately opened my chat with my boss, Mr. Johnson.

“You mentioned an overseas project before. I’m willing to go.”

“Sophia Lane, I’m glad you agreed, but what about your mother and sister?”

His reply came instantly.

I had been a project manager at the company for a few years and had closed quite a few big deals. Mr. Johnson valued me highly and wanted me to take a management role in a newly developed field in the United States.

It was a rare opportunity, and I happily went home to share the news with my mom and my sister.

But my mom’s smile dropped, and her voice grew sharp.

“You’re going abroad?”

“Emily just got into college, and you can’t wait to fly away?”

“I see, you’re planning to never come back. No need to care for me when I’m old, no need to take care of your sister!”

After saying this, she sat silently in the living room, as if I had committed some unforgivable crime.

I couldn’t stand seeing the mom who raised us all alone look so disappointed, so I turned down Mr. Johnson’s offer.

That very night, I booked tickets and made detailed travel plans to take them on a trip.

Only then did my mom brighten up, smiling again.

“That’s more like it! As the older sister, you should make money for the family and take your sister out to have fun!”

“If you move far away, how will you take care of me when I get sick? You won’t even make it back!”

With those words—“That’s more like it”—she chained me to her side.

When Mr. Johnson saw he couldn’t persuade me, he found someone else.

Luckily, before he had settled on another candidate, I came across that video.

“Mr. Johnson, I’ll go.” I didn’t hesitate.

He was delighted, and soon the paperwork for my relocation to the U.S. was signed.

With a strange mix of unease and defiance, I nervously scrolled down to the comments section.

“The younger daughter is so sensible! My older one also stopped listening after I had a second.”

“Good thing this mom has two kids. If it was just the eldest, she’d be miserable.”

“This eldest daughter is useless. Where does she work? Not even filial to her mom—you should go make trouble at her workplace!”

Expressionless, I watched as my mom enthusiastically replied to these comments criticizing me.

“Yes, the elder daughter isn’t as considerate as the younger one.”

“Ah, she’s so hottempered. Can’t argue with her.”

And then, under the videos about our upcoming trip and the new furniture at home, she responded again,

“My baby girl really knows how to care for me.”

But it was me who paid for the trip, stayed up late making travel plans.

It was me who used my salary every month to replace the furniture.

It was me who took on all the household chores.

Yet she happily went along with the assumptions of strangers, giving all the credit to Emily.

And she let strangers online insult me endlessly.

I gave a bitter laugh.

They say never empathize with parents, because they’ll never empathize with their children.

Now, I realized how true that was.

No matter how obedient and considerate I was, no matter how much I catered to my mom—

She would always take it for granted, seeing only what she wanted to see.

If that’s the case,

Then I’d simply become the daughter she already believed me to be.

As my mom hummed a tune and strolled back with the neighbor lady, I was in the middle of refunding our tickets.

Since the tickets were tied to her ID, she got the refund notification too.

The next moment, she stormed up to me, waving her phone in disbelief.

“You canceled the trip! It’s only five days away! What are you doing?”

For the first time, I didn’t rush to explain.

I just calmly watched her shouting at me, suddenly finding it all meaningless.

Under my gaze, she shifted uncomfortably.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing.”

I smiled, my voice steady.

“I have work next week. Can’t go on the trip, so I canceled.”

She immediately grew frantic.

“Why cancel ours if you can’t go? Emily and I can still go!”

“You won’t go, and you won’t let others go either?”

I suddenly remembered the summer after middle school.

Emily had seen Disneyland on her phone and begged to go.

Mom instantly bought tickets to take her.

I thought I was included. I packed happily, even helped Emily pack her clothes.

But on the day of departure, I realized Mom hadn’t bought me a ticket.

She said earnestly,

“You’re too old for Disneyland.”

“Besides, you’ve been to places like that before. Emily hasn’t, so I’ll just take her.”

When I looked upset, she frowned.

“A trip like that is expensive. One less person saves a lot. Why can’t you be considerate of your mom?”

“I raised you both on my own. If you really want to go, make your own money and go later!”

Her words made me feel worthless and guilty.

That summer, while they were gone, I barely spent a few dollars on cucumbers and tomatoes, gnawed on plain noodles without even adding vegetables.

When Mom and Emily returned, glowing with excitement, they discussed all the fun things.

When I didn’t understand, Mom looked at me with disdain.

“You really don’t know as much as your sister.”

But she forgot—

When I was little, the “playgrounds” I’d seen were just makeshift rides in the village.

Disneyland? Emily had never been.

But neither had I.

Back in the present, I returned her words with a smile.

“Mom, aren’t you a little old for trips like this? You and Emily have already been, it’s all the same stuff.”

“I work hard enough to support this family. If you really want to go, buy your own tickets.”

At my words, Mom jabbed her finger at me, furious.

“You’re my daughter! Isn’t it your duty to support me? Emily doesn’t earn money yet!”

True—Emily had just gotten into college. She wasn’t earning yet.

But when I had just graduated middle school, neither was I.

“You’re so stingy! I—”

She was about to continue scolding me when we both heard the slam of the front door.

Mom rushed out.

“Emily, why do you look upset?”

“I don’t want to get a parttime job! After graduation, I just want to relax and have fun, not earn tuition!”

Her voice was full of resentment, but Mom quickly nodded in approval.

“Then don’t. When your sister makes money, she’ll pay your tuition!”

In the past, I would’ve felt guilty for them.

I would’ve happily emptied my savings, thinking I was finally useful.

But the truth was—it didn’t matter.

Their hearts were cold.

They would never remember my sacrifices.

Without hesitation, I refused.

“I’m not paying her tuition. Mom, you’ll have to cover it.”

“I don’t have money!”

She glared at me, eyes full of disappointment.

Before, that look would’ve made me give in.

But this time, I just shook my head.

“Then let Emily get a parttime job. Work two months, play for one—it’s still enough.”

But Emily refused instantly.

“I won’t! Who wants to be a laborer?”

Seeing me unmoved, Mom hurled her keychain at me.

“Are you trying to destroy this family?”

“I raised you, fed you, paid for your schooling, and now you can’t help pay for your sister’s? How selfish can you be?”

“All you care about is money now!”

The keys hit me hard, but instead of pain, I felt relief—

Like a dam finally breaking inside me.

I looked at her, eyes red but smiling.

“Mom, do you remember when my teacher told you I had real talent for painting?”

“That was years ago. Why bring it up now?”

Her eyes darted away, her voice weak.

But I couldn’t help remembering.

When I was little, my art teacher saw my potential and suggested I study it seriously.

For the first time, someone recognized me. I blushed and told Mom, expecting encouragement.

But she only scowled.

“Sophia, you haven’t even mastered schoolwork, and now you want to draw? Don’t you feel guilty after everything I’ve done for you?”

“Art costs money. I can’t afford that! That teacher of yours is ruining you!”

The first sketchbook my teacher gave me—she shredded it to pieces.

She said ordinary people like us couldn’t afford such dreams.

Even when I consistently ranked top of my grade, she was never satisfied if I didn’t get perfect scores.

But Emily was different.

When she scored average, Mom took her out for celebratory feasts.

When I wanted to come along, Mom frowned.

“You’re preparing for college entrance exams. Go study. You can eat whatever you want after.”

Later, when Emily was caught listening to music in class, the teacher called home.

Mom was thrilled, listened to her sing offkey, and then hired an expensive private music tutor that very night.

“My Emily is going to be a famous singer one day! She needs the best training!”

She bragged to neighbors about Emily’s singing, glowing with pride.

If anyone mentioned I was good at painting too, she brushed it off.

“What? Sophia just wastes time. Luckily, I never let her pursue it, or she wouldn’t have even gotten into college!”

Nurturing?

I laughed bitterly.

“I paid for all my own college expenses. Why can’t Emily do the same?”

“If you love nurturing talent so much, Mom, why don’t you get a job yourself and fund Emily’s dream of being a singer?”

“You’re getting more and more ungrateful!”

Fuming, she grabbed Emily and slammed the door.

“Let’s eat out. Let her do whatever she wants!”

The noisy house fell silent.

For once, I felt at peace.

I received Mr. Johnson’s documents and packed my luggage.

Four days left until I moved to the U.S.

When they came back the next morning, Mom dropped a bag on the table.

“You haven’t eaten, right? Emily and I bought you something—eat it while it’s hot.”

Maybe she wanted to make peace.

But she gave me a look as if it was some great favor.

As I opened the bag, she was already talking like usual.

“We were out all night, and you didn’t even worry? You should be grateful. Your sister thought of you and brought food for you.”

“In my opinion, you’re just too selfish. Your sister is far more considerate than you.”

I looked at the bag of pork dumplings and felt nauseated.

When I set the bag aside and headed straight into the kitchen to cook, she grew agitated.

“Your sister and I thought of you, and this is the attitude you give us?”

I kept my expression flat.

“I don’t eat pork dumplings.”

As a child, I loved meat, but Mom thought it was too expensive.

So she would always buy fatty cuts of pork that others didn’t want.

I couldn’t stomach the fat and would throw up every time.

She would just frown and call me picky and dramatic.

From then on, I never touched pork dumplings or any fatty meat again.

“You just have to nitpick, don’t you? Turning good intentions into insults! I told you your sister shouldn’t bother being nice to you!”

From the corner of my eye, I caught Emily smirking at me with satisfaction.

“Sophia, why can’t you just eat what’s given to you? Mom bought you something nice, and you won’t eat it—aren’t you only making things harder on yourself?”

I gave a short laugh.

“Dumplings count as something nice? I remember Mom often sneaking you out to restaurants. Don’t tell me she never bought you anything better.”

Yes, for Emily, Mom always spared no expense.

When I was eating pickles with bread, she was feeding Emily the most expensive formula.

When I thought cafeteria noodles were a treat, Mom was already taking her out for barbecue.

Emily hated fat, so Mom would carefully trim it away. She ate meat every meal, while I got whatever vegetables were left over.

All because, as the older sister, I was expected to yield to her.

Later, Mom even pointed at me in front of relatives and complained:

“Why doesn’t this child ever want to eat something good? Emily just loves meat.”

“I guess that’s just fate. Emily was born lucky.”

“Sophia was just born to suffer.”

But was that suffering my choice?

Ignoring their colorful faces, I dragged my suitcase out the door.

Their curses were shut behind it.

And I felt nothing but exhilaration.

I thought I could spend the last few days in peace, but the next evening at the hotel, scrolling through videos, I saw my mom again.

This time she wasn’t doing the “Three Glasses of Wine” toast.

Instead, she posted two clips accusing her eldest daughter—me—of terrible behavior in the past two days.

Both went viral.

As a “suffering mother,” she drew endless sympathy, and many urged her to livestream and chat about it.

So there she was, on livestream, speaking passionately.

“We mothers are too forgiving. If I’d known she’d turn out this way, I’d never have given birth to her!”

Beside her, Emily played the role of innocent little angel, handing her water with just the right touch of pity, moving the viewers to tears.

“Good thing you have another daughter, otherwise you’d be heartbroken.”

“Right, if this were ancient times, that eldest daughter would’ve been cast out by family law long ago. How dare she act so arrogantly today?”

The comments flooded in.

Some even dug up my photos, my college, and where I worked.

A few went so far as to find my phone number, sending abusive texts and calling to harass me.

The mother and daughter were delighted, though they acted pitiful, thanking viewers for “standing up for them.”

Just before the livestream ended, a famous influencer entered the room.

“Hello, I’ve got a reality show about families that would be perfect for you. Would you consider coming on so we can talk things through with your eldest daughter?”

“Of course, of course!” Mom said eagerly, nodding nonstop, even suggesting Emily join too.

“In a family, there are no grudges that last overnight. Emily and I have never given up on her!”

After the influencer agreed, they ended the livestream, both thrilled.

Not long after, Mom called me.

“You’ve been out long enough. Come back tomorrow. Your sister landed a show, and you should come see how things are done.”

“To broaden my horizons? Or to let the whole internet condemn me as unfilial?”

I sneered, which only annoyed her more.

“How can you talk to your mother like that? I’m your mom—don’t I have the right to teach you?”

“Since you already know, just come back quietly. You’re the older sister. Isn’t it normal for you to give more?”

Apparently, leaving myself only enough for basic living expenses and funneling everything else to them—

To her, that was just “a little more.”

I didn’t argue. I simply murmured “Mm.”

That satisfied her enough to hang up.

The next morning, I took my freshly issued visa and went straight to the airport.

In the airport lobby, the big screen was playing clips from a reality show that had gone viral, combining the “Three Glasses of Wine” video with the image of a selfish daughter.

Mom and the “unfilial daughter” narrative drew everyone’s attention.

Parents pulled their children close, preaching lessons as they passed.

“See? A child may not love their mom, but a mom always loves her child.”

Love?

Of course there was love.

I could never forget Mom’s panic when she rushed me to the hospital as a kid.

Or the way she handed me food, claiming she didn’t like it, though I knew she was just giving up her share.

But now—

None of that mattered anymore.

My mom loved Emily more. Without question.

She couldn’t balance her love between us.

Naturally, I had to accept that my love for her would be shallow in return.

The company had already heard about the drama. Mr. Johnson messaged me.

I replied, then boarded my flight without a backward glance.

I knew I would never return.

At 2:40 p.m., the reality show began its prebroadcast.

Mom and Emily had dressed up but refused to wear the coats I’d bought them.

Mom kept calling me, furious yet forcing herself to keep her composure.

At 3:00 sharp, the show went live.

In my new company’s hotel room, I watched the big screen.

Viewership had already surpassed one hundred million.

Because of the hype, Emily caught the attention of several film and TV producers, who were negotiating with her.

Meanwhile, Mom was telling the audience about the hardships of raising me.

“I don’t know how I ended up with such a selfish child.”

“My health is poor, I can’t work, and she’s so stingy she won’t even pay her sister’s tuition.”

“She’s afraid Emily will outshine her and embarrass her. But Emily has always been more talented!”

The host asked, “What would it take for you to believe the family could be whole again?”

Mom frowned, thought for a moment.

“If she comes back and apologizes, goes on a trip with us, and pays Emily’s tuition—”

She pursed her lips. “Then I’d be willing to forgive her.”

The livestream audience buzzed with agreement.

“That’s reasonable. When money’s tight, the kids should help out. It’s not like she’s married!”

“Exactly, Emily got into a top school. Tuition at good schools is cheaper, and she won’t even pay that?”

“Mom’s adorable. A simple trip and she’s satisfied. So forgiving, still wanting to take her daughter traveling.”

“That eldest daughter doesn’t know how lucky she is!”

Without exception, they all condemned me.

The host gestured to the door.

“Let’s see what the daughter has to say.”