My Mother Fired Me On My 35th Birthday For Being “Too Ugly” To Work At Our Family Company. She Replaced Me With My “Beautiful” Sister. Now Their Business Is Bankrupt And They’re Begging Me To Save Them.

The Dismissal

My name is Mary, and as I celebrated my 35th birthday on a summer day filled with the enchanting melody of bird song, I found myself summoned to the president’s office. Or rather, my boss, who happened to be my mother. The heat seemed to have left her visibly bothered as she spoke coldly, turning her beautiful profile towards me.

“I’ve decided to hand the company over to your sister. You’re dismissed as of today,”

she declared. The brilliance of the summer sunshine making it difficult for me to fully comprehend the reality of her words. My voice must have sounded dumbfounded as I muttered,

“Ha?”

My mother, now looking exasperated, turned her gaze toward me, reiterating,

“You’re fired. We don’t need ugliness around here. Be gone by the end of the month.”

As the weight of her words sank in, I mechanically stepped back, feeling like a puppet.

“Excuse me,”

I said, closing the door behind me in the president’s office.

A Family Business

Where only the sound of birds echoed, I mulled over her abrupt decision. However, my contemplation was interrupted when she reprimanded me,

“Are you still here? Get back to your work immediately.”

Our company, a small two-story building engaged in demolition business, employed about 10 people. It was a family-run enterprise with my mother as the president, my aunt and her husband as executive directors, and my mom’s cousins as managing directors. Despite the familial structure, it was evident that my mother held the majority of the power.

After high school, I initially worked at an accounting firm. However, at 25, my mother insisted that I join the family business due to a supposed shortage of accountants. Over the past decade, I had taken on various roles handling paperwork, miscellaneous tasks, and even sales when needed, essentially becoming the company’s jack-of-all-trades.

Contrastingly, my younger sister Lucy, at 32, had only been with the company for 2 years. Prior to that, she hopped between jobs, deeming none suitable for her. My mother eventually hired Lucy as an executive director when her employment prospects dwindled after she turned 30.

Years of Unfair Treatment

The disparity in treatment between Lucy and me was evident to everyone in the company. However, I had long accepted that my mother had always favored my sister. Dating back to our childhood, Lucy received all the attention, with my mother showering her with clothes and toys while I received hand-me-downs, being told they were good enough for me.

Despite not understanding the reason behind this treatment as a child, I diligently worked hard to gain my mother’s attention by excelling in my studies and assisting around the house. Despite my efforts, my mother paid little attention to me. Even when I handed her a report with straight A’s, she would merely glance at it.

At one point, I even contemplated plastic surgery, thinking that my lack of physical attractiveness might be the reason for her indifference. It was my aunt, my mother’s younger sister, who shed light on the situation. Back in high school, I was told that my father had passed away.

However, the truth was revealed: during the year Lucy was born, my father had left my mother for a woman from his workplace. This woman, older and supposedly less attractive than my mother, apparently exuded an aura similar to mine. My aunt, casually commenting on the situation, mentioned,

“Your mom is a proud woman. I bet she couldn’t bear the thought of losing her husband to an older woman less attractive than herself.”

Financial Burdens

There was a distinct air of satisfaction in her tone, as if she took delight in my mother’s predicament. It’s worth noting that my aunt’s appearance leaned more towards my side of the family and wasn’t particularly remarkable, but she excelled at her job, mostly using her charm to advance. She continued,

“Your mother took over the family business at the age of 32 when your father left her. Her striking beauty played a significant role in attracting and retaining numerous clients, which greatly boosted the business’s performance.”

Part of this growth was attributed to the era, with many buildings requiring demolition after reaching their lifespan. As a result, neither my aunt’s family nor my cousins could go against my mother. Recently, the cost of industrial waste disposal and transportation had increased, making it challenging to maintain a balance between demolition costs and actual expenses.

Not only our company, but the entire industry was underperforming. Meeting the monthly payroll for employees became a struggle during these challenging times. In the midst of this, my younger sister joined the company as an executive director. I found myself contemplating how my mother intended to cover my sister’s salary. When I raised the concern, my mother bluntly stated,

“We cut your salary to pay hers. We’re family, that’s natural, isn’t it?”

Despite presenting a reasonable argument that even with a cut, my salary wouldn’t be enough for an executive director, my mother remained relentless, insisting it was my responsibility to figure it out. Tentatively, I suggested that Lucy could start as a regular employee. At that, my mother shot me a fierce glare, rebuking me with,

“Who do you think you’re talking to? This isn’t something for someone like you to interfere with.”

Household Chores and Resentment

During that time, we all lived under the same roof. Lucy contributed nothing to the household, while I consistently contributed $1,500 every month. Even when Lucy joined our company, she didn’t contribute financially to the house. Since I was young, I had been helping with household chores for my busy mother, naturally taking on responsibilities.

In contrast, Lucy did nothing, behaving as if it were the norm. Lucy would casually ask,

“Hey sis, is dinner ready yet?”

even when I was working overtime. When I suggested she make something for herself, she replied,

“What? I don’t know what to make. The kitchen is your sanctuary, right? And I might get scolded for using it without permission. You got mad at me for that before.”

Using that past incident as an excuse, Lucy never attempted to cook, clean up after herself, or put things back where they belonged. It became apparent that she was holding a grudge, using it as an excuse to avoid any form of responsibility or contribution. Reluctantly, I often found myself coming home to prepare dinner and then heading back to the office to continue working.

My mother, too, seldom cooked dinner. Even when I took the initiative to prepare meals, she would often choose to eat out, opting for whatever suited her cravings. However, with my mother frequently attending business meals with Lucy, the need for me to cook dinner had diminished. Unfortunately, the increase in entertainment expenses was now causing a new headache. At 63, my mother began complaining more about various aches and pains, exacerbated by her heavy drinking.