My parents have five biological kids but only four living bio kids. There’s me (17m), Ava (14f), Noah (13m) and Logan (11m). My youngest sister Lucy would be 10 but she died at 6 weeks old. My parents couldn’t have anymore bio kids after Lucy and they decided to sign up to be foster parents with the hope that they’d adopt more kids by doing it.

We did all the interviews and at the time I wasn’t sure about it but my parents ordered me to say I was on board and to make it believable. I was afraid to go against them back then so I did what they said. But my parents already expected more out of me because I was the oldest and I was worried they’d want more from me. Being 8 at the time, I didn’t have the backbone to speak up.

My parents fostered a lot of kids over the years. They never got any that they could adopt but some were with us 3 or 4 years. My parents couldn’t balance all of us so they did lean on me more.

They didn’t give me or my siblings the same attention they gave their foster kids and I was used as a stand in parent for my siblings by my parents. My siblings resented the crap out of me for it and they started disrespecting me because they didn’t want me, they wanted mom and dad.

But mom and dad wouldn’t do anything about the disrespect. They wouldn’t take time away from their foster kids either.

There were some foster kids who were pawned off on me as well. Some had special needs and food issues and I was expected to prepare the second meal for those kids so they’d have something to eat while mom was cooking for everyone else.

Eventually I was given the job of making everyone’s lunches (including my parents). On top of helping with dinner every night in some way or another. I was supposed to take in food allergies and sensitivities and sensory issues into account and if I messed up my parents acted like I was doing it intentionally. They told me so many oldest kids have more responsibility than younger kids and that supporting the family was the job of the oldest too. They said I had a duty to my family.

I confided in my paternal grandmother a few years ago and she brushed me off. She’s the only extended family we had so I hoped she would have my back. But she told me I should be proud to help my parents help other kids.

Last year my parents took in too many kids at once. There was a ton more put on my shoulders and my parents punished me for getting a job. I was grounded for a month and had no phone, my laptop that I use for school and personal stuff was taken. They told me I could write assignments by hand. They wouldn’t let me see or speak to friends outside of school hours. I was locked in the house unless we went to school or church. I was given more to do to “help” and it got to be too much.

So I told the case worker/social worker what was going on during one of her visits and I admitted my parents had made me say I was on board all those years ago when I wasn’t. I showed her texts from my parents that proved that I was leaned on to do so much and she went to speak to my parents. They ended up being taken off the list to foster. I don’t know how it worked exactly but the kids were taken that they were fostering and no more came. My parents were angry at me. I was relived to have less of a workload but nobody’s happy now and I’m still getting shit from everyone.

We started family therapy a couple of months ago and my parents told the therapist our family needed help. They said we had lots of issues and she needed to help us work through them. Then they started to place all the blame on me. They said I was lazy and selfish and I didn’t know what family truly meant. They said I was a terror and that I had no idea that I wasn’t the most important person in the world. That I expected to get attention when other people needed it more. And that I was immature and childish because I can’t love on my siblings and help them without running to mom and dad. Then they said they were ashamed to call me their son after I got their ability to foster revoked. Other stuff was said but that was the part that came up next.

The therapist asked me how I felt about my parents feelings and I said I knew. That I know they’re ashamed of me for the foster stuff. I said I have always known. My parents never treated me any different and especially not now. I told the therapist nothing can change that, not even her and I said we’re beyond help.

My parents didn’t like what I said. I told the therapist when they gave me crap after that confessional session. My parents didn’t care and they still don’t like that I said what I did in response to what they said. They feel like I’m disrespecting them with my casualness.

AITA?