I'm 27F, Latina, and in October 2024, I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma after finding a lump above my left collarbone that kept growing. It took months of scans, tests, and biopsies to finally get answers, and when I did, everything hit at once. In one appointment, I found out I’d need a port placed in my chest, six months of chemo, and that I couldn’t work my new job that I loved anymore. On top of that, the doctor said I’d need a strong support system. That part stung — because my mom and I were already in a rough patch… or maybe we’ve always been in one.

Before my diagnosis, I was trying to set healthy boundaries with her. Things like not telling her where I go or who I'm with all the time. But she’d get aggressive or passive-aggressive whenever I did that. I’d be met with comments that were rude, mean, or just dismissive. Friends told me it’s common with overbearing parents, and that it gets better when you move out. But my mom doesn't let up- she’ll guilt trip me, gaslight me, and constantly say things like “in this house” or “in this family” when I try to assert myself.

When I got officially diagnosed, we got into a huge argument and she didn't speak to me for days. When I came home from my port placement surgery, no one in the house even acknowledged me except my 14-year-old sibling. My mom has this way of getting everyone else to ice me out when she’s mad at me. It’s like a tactic — she creates this environment where I feel unwanted, and I think she knows exactly what she’s doing.

I had asked my 21-year-old sister to drop me off for surgery, and the day before, my mom texted me saying she suddenly couldn’t — she had an “appointment.” Turns out, the appointment was a Brazilian wax that she couldn’t miss because she’d have to pay a $36 cancellation fee. I had to scramble to find someone else last-minute.

During my treatment, I kept having to explain to my mom why I couldn’t do certain things, like chores. I was exhausted, my body ached, and I just wanted to rest, but she’d act like I was being lazy or using cancer as an excuse. She’d ask, “How are you feeling?” and before I could answer, she’d launch into how her back hurts from work, or her head hurts, too. I cannot even explain how invalidating it felt to have my chemo side effects compared to her everyday stress.

She also took half of my disability check “for PG&E” even though that was all the money I had for food or essentials, especially when I didn’t have the energy to cook. Meanwhile, she and the rest of the house barely checked in on me. I felt like a ghost in my own home.

To be fair, she did do things for me: she got me a case of alkaline water, and she drove me to a few of my 3–4 hour chemo sessions and sat with me. I appreciate that. But the emotional toll of living here through all this? It was awful. I honestly wish I had just found a quiet room to rent and done this whole thing on my own. I feel like that would’ve been less lonely than this household.

Now that I’m at the tail end of treatment, I’m feeling bitter. Tired. Emotionally drained. I look back at the last six months and just wish things were different. But then I feel like an ungrateful asshole for even thinking that. Like, how can I say she wasn’t there for me when she technically was?

She says things like, “Don’t say I wasn’t here for you,” and I don’t even know what to say to that. Because yeah she was physically around. But emotionally? She made it so much harder than it needed to be.

So… AITA for feeling like my mom did more harm than good during my cancer treatment? Or am I just being an ungrateful little shit?