Most people expect a warm celebration on their birthday. Maybe a cake, a thoughtful card, or a small surprise from loved ones.
My thirty-first birthday, however, brought something very different.
Instead of a wrapped present or kind words, my family handed me official papers telling me I was no longer part of them. My mother slid a gold envelope across the table of an elegant Chicago restaurant, her smile polite and practiced. My sister lifted her phone to record my reaction “for fun,” waiting for me to crumble.
My name is Giana Dixon, and this is the story of how the moment meant to break me became the beginning of the life I truly deserved.
