When I (26F) was 11, my younger siblings (then 4, 6, and 7) and I were taken from our parents and placed into foster care. Initially, we were placed in the same foster home, but the damage from our upbringing quickly became apparent. My siblings could only see me as their mother and refused to accept help or care from anyone else. If a foster parent stepped in to help, they would physically lash out at them.
The situation became overwhelming for me. I was just a child myself, but I was forced into the role of a caregiver. I started to grow resentful. There were days when I locked myself in a room and refused to come out—no eating, no drinking—just trying to escape the pressure. Therapy (both individual and family) was supposed to help, but during family sessions, my siblings would cling to me and refuse to engage with the therapist or the activities provided.
After a year, it was suggested that we be separated to give everyone a break. Initially, it was supposed to last six months, but it ended up being a year. During that time, I bounced between foster homes before eventually settling with a family.
When we reconnected in family therapy, things hadn’t improved. My siblings still expected me to mother them and refused to engage with therapy. They lashed out whenever it was time for me to leave. One particularly traumatic moment was when my youngest sister accidentally broke my arm while trying to physically keep me from leaving.
Another period of no contact followed, and when it resumed, it was limited to phone calls. Even then, they struggled to see me as anything but their mother. When they found out I’d been adopted, they had a massive meltdown.
For years, there was no contact. When I turned 18, I chose to focus on healing, building my future, and creating a life for myself. I couldn’t handle the emotional weight of trying to rebuild a relationship with them.
Last year, they reached out after aging out of foster care. They wanted to reconnect, and I agreed—on the condition that we attend family therapy and they fully participate. They reluctantly agreed.
Despite therapy, it’s clear they still see me as their mother and not their sister. With the therapist’s help, I’ve tried to reinforce that I’m their sibling, not their parent. I’ve set boundaries, insisting that I can only have a sibling relationship with them. While they’ve made some progress, the core issue remains unchanged.
Recently, they became angry about our separation in foster care, calling it cruel and disgusting. They insisted that sibling groups are never separated and accused the state of being heartless. They wanted my opinion, and while I tried to be empathetic, their comments grew increasingly hostile. They demanded to know how I could feel differently and why I hadn’t fought to keep us together.
A few days ago, I finally told them the truth: being separated from them was the best thing for me. I explained that the separation allowed me to heal, grow, and experience what little childhood I had left. I also told them that I couldn’t continue to carry the weight of being their “mom” when I was just a child myself. I apologized for the pain they went through but emphasized that I needed the separation for my own well-being.
They were furious. They said I was cruel for saying it out loud and that I had no right to voice such a thing.
So, AITA for telling them the truth, even though it hurt them?