'My grandma left all her money to me, and I refuse to share it with my 3 sisters.'

As told to Ann DeGrey

I was always close with my grandma. While my sisters were busy with their own lives, I was the one who sat by her side, listening to her stories and helping her with whatever she needed. Grandma wasn't just family to me, she was my best friend.

From a young age, I'd spend my weekends at her house. She taught me everything I know about cooking and I'd listen to her tell stories about her childhood. She was a fascinating woman and I believe she could have achieved a lot in her life if she hadn't sacrificed all of her talents by staying home and raising her kids. I didn't just love Grandma, I admired her.

As she got older and her health began to fail, I was the one who cared for her. I took her to doctor's appointments, helped her with groceries, and made sure she wasn't lonely. My sisters didn't do anything.

I've never been very close to my sisters. They are all bossy and self-entitled. The eldest, Linda*, is an egomaniac who never talks about anything but herself. She's always been in charge, or at least she thinks she is. Then there's Matilda*, who's always complaining that she's overlooked. And finally, there's Olivia*, who loves to paint herself as the family peacekeeper but stirs the pot more than anyone I know. All three of them have something in common, though: they've spent their entire lives making me feel small.

Watch: The signs you have a toxic sibling. Post continues after video.

Growing up, they treated me like an outsider. I was the youngest, the "baby," and yes, I'll admit it; I was Grandma's favourite. She'd always say I reminded her of herself when she was young. But my sisters saw it differently. To them, I was spoilt. They'd call me "princess" or roll their eyes whenever Grandma praised me.

The teasing wasn't harmless either. When I was little, Linda once told me I was adopted just to make me cry. Olivia liked to make "jokes" about how I'd only get by on my looks, implying I wasn't smart enough to do anything else. They acted like my life was so easy, like being the youngest and "prettiest," as they often reminded me, was a golden ticket. What they never saw was the hurt behind their words, or maybe they didn't care. The three of them were bullies and I got to a point in my life where I had little to do with them.

When the older girls had moved away, I got even closer to Grandma. I think that's when our bond grew even stronger. While my sisters sent the occasional text or called once in a blue moon, I was the one who showed up for her.

When Grandma passed away last year, I was absolutely devastated. I just missed her so much; her death has left such a big hole in my life. My sisters came to her funeral, but I didn't see any of them actually cry. So I very much doubt they loved her even half as much as I did.

But then came the reading of the will, and everything changed. Almost everything, her house, her savings, her precious jewellery, was left to me. My sisters got a few bits of costume jewellery and some framed photos of Grandma. To say they were furious is an understatement!

The accusations started immediately. "You manipulated her!" Linda shouted in the lawyer's office. They claimed that I must have brainwashed Grandma when she was vulnerable. They just couldn't fathom that maybe Grandma had her reasons.

The truth is that I didn't manipulate anyone. Grandma made her own decisions, and she knew what she was doing. She told me that she wanted to leave everything to me because I was the only one who truly cared.

She actually said, "They had their chance. Now it's yours."

My sisters are now trying to contest the will, but according to my lawyer, Grandma made it very clear that she didn't want anything of value to go to the granddaughters who had little to do with her.

And I have no intention of sharing. Some people might say that's selfish, but where were they when Grandma needed help shopping? Where were they when she was in the hospital, scared and in pain? They were too busy with their lives, too busy to even call her when she was ill.

To them, this is about money. They see the house, the savings, and they feel cheated. But to me, it's about so much more. It shows me Grandma knew the truth. She knew who cared and who didn't. This is her way of standing up for me one last time.

Some people might wonder if I feel guilty, and the answer is no. I spent years being the target of my sisters' jealousy and cruelty. Maybe it sounds like I'm seeking revenge, and maybe it is, but after a lifetime of being treated like I didn't matter, I think I deserve this.

Of course, my sisters would tell you a different story. They'd say they loved Grandma just as much as I did, that I've always been the spoilt one. But actions speak louder than words. If they truly cared, they would have shown up. They didn't, and now they're paying the price.

*Names have been changed due to privacy.

The author of this story is known to Mamamia but remained anonymous for privacy reasons.

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