I left everything to raise my granddaughter. I worked late, sacrificed my dreams, and put their happiness before mine.

And how did he thank me? Kicking me out of my own home, treating me like I’m a burden, like I no longer fit into the “perfect” image I wanted to show her followers.

Do you know this new generation? They live glued to screens, watching strangers do ridiculous dances, rehearsed jokes and absurd challenges. They laugh, they swipe non-stop… as if the real world no longer matters.

My granddaughter, Lily, was one of them. I recorded everything: breakfast, the looks of the day, makeup tutorials… and thousands of people watched it. She was what they now call an “influencer”.

I never understood that obsession with sharing everything, but I supported it. After all, I had raised her.

When my daughter and son-in-law died in an accident, Lily was only 11 years old. My world fell apart, but I didn’t have time to cry. He had a little girl to protect. I went back to sewing, accepted any commission that came along, and postponed my retirement to dedicate my life to it.

I was with her in every nightmare, in every knee injury, in every school function. He prepared her snack, helped her with her homework, hugged her when she cried.

When she discovered social media, I encouraged her. Although I didn’t understand why she wanted to show her dish to everyone, I applauded her.

I never asked for much. Just a little respect and affection.

But everything changed when she turned 21 and tasted fame.

He started to exclude me. He stopped inviting me to dinners when his “influencer” friends came. He rolled his eyes when I asked him something. And one night, I heard something that broke me inside.

During a live broadcast, he laughed with his followers:
“They don’t know what it’s like to live with my grandmother… She still thinks the hashtag is a waffle machine!”

People laughed. And I was paralyzed in the hallway.

My granddaughter was ashamed of me.

The real betrayal came weeks later. One morning he sat in front of me, with his mobile phone in his hand.

“Grandma, I think it’s time for you to go,” he said.

“What?” I asked, not understanding.

“I love you, but my contents are suffering,” he said with a sigh, as if he were sacrificing something. My followers think you’re… depressing.

She turned the screen towards me:
“Who is that lady in the background?”
“Lily, your aesthetic is great, but grandma’s vibe doesn’t fit.”

I swallowed hard.

“So you’re kicking me out because some strangers think I’m too old?”

She shook her head, annoyed.

— It’s not just that. My friends don’t want to party here anymore. And if I start dating someone famous, do you think they’re going to want to come to a house that smells of lavender and mothballs?

That’s when I understood that I had raised a stranger.

Without arguing, I got up, went to my room and started packing my bags. His words still pierced me like knives.

When I came out, Lily already had the tripod set up.

“Wait!” he shouted. I have to record this!

— Record what? I asked, horrified.

— A farewell video! My fans love these emotional moments. It’s going to feel like it hurts me to say goodbye to you…

I left without looking back.

I moved into the “nursing home” she had chosen. I thought I had won. That I had been dismissed as an old, out-of-fashion coat.

But she forgot something: her grandmother was not weak. I had connections, real ones. While she was looking for likes, I was cultivating relationships.

A former client of mine was a lawyer. Another, a journalist.

They helped me.

The journalist published a detailed article about how the “internet darling” had kicked out her own grandmother for her online image. The story went viral.

Screenshots of his broadcasts making fun of me, the fake farewell video, the collection to “help grandma” (from which he kept everything)… everything came to light.

The reaction was immediate. Marcas abandoned her. Followers left. The comments were furious:

“Did you use your grandmother as content?”
“Yuck!”

And the best part? The lawyer got my house back. We proved that he had coerced me into giving him the deed with false promises. After a long process, it came back to my name.

I left the residence with my head held high.

And Lily? He disappeared from the networks.

Months later, someone knocked on my door.

It was her.

Disheveled, without makeup, her eyes swollen.

— Grandma… I lost everything. No one supports me. I have nowhere to go. Please… I know I don’t deserve it, but will you give me a second chance?

I was silent for a moment.

– Lily, you threw me out like garbage. You publicly humiliated me. And now that you’ve lost everything, do you want to come back?

She burst into tears. I raised my hand:

– If you really regret it, show it. Not with words. With facts. Go, change your life. And if you do… Maybe this door will open again.

And then I did something I never thought I would do with my own granddaughter.

I slammed the door in his face.

Days later, he did something unexpected. He livestreamed—not to go viral, but to apologize.

“I lied to you,” she said, crying. I hurt the one who loved me the most. I need to change. So… This is goodbye. For now.

He closed the transmission. He deleted his accounts. It disappeared from the internet.

Months passed.

I learned that he got a job in a cafeteria, began volunteering with the elderly and did not return to the networks.

No cameras. No likes.

One day, I saw her helping a lady to sit down. He spoke to her with affection. And no one was recording it.

It was real.

And there, for the first time in a long time, I recognized my granddaughter. To the sweet girl that I once entrusted to the world.

And I cried.

But this time… They were real tears.