From Puppet Daughter to Powerhouse

From Puppet Daughter to Powerhouse

Gavin

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My freshman year at Green Mountain College was supposed to be about freedom. But my mom, Susan, had other plans for her only daughter. She turned my dorm room into a high-tech prison, monitoring every single video call, scrutinizing my bank account, and even tracking my social media DMs "for my safety." It wasn't safety; it was relentless, suffocating surveillance, a gilded cage I desperately wanted to escape. Then came the ultimate college freshman nightmare: my debit card (tied to Mom' s account, of course) got declined at the crowded campus coffee shop. Total humiliation. A kind senior, Liam, stepped in and paid for my coffee and bagel; a simple, unexpected act of grace. But that small kindness triggered a reaction I never anticipated. Hours later, Liam messaged me, sending a screenshot that made my blood run cold. My mother had instantly found his Venmo payment, tracked him on Instagram, and sent him a chilling message, warning him off her "vulnerable" daughter. Liam, understandably, blocked me instantly, dissolving my only new connection. Mom's video call that night wasn't an interrogation; it was an execution, dredging up every past friendship she' d ever destroyed, every connection she' d severed. She wasn't just protective; she was ensuring I was utterly, completely hers. The shame of that night quickly curdled into a burning, unyielding rage. She wasn't trying to keep me safe; she was systematically isolating me, controlling my finances, my friendships, my entire existence. I finally saw the pattern with terrifying clarity, a sinister obsession veiled as maternal love, one that perhaps even connected to my father' s "factory accident" years ago. The thought that she might have secretly engineered my entire life filled me with a chilling dread. I wasn't just terrified anymore. I was done running. If she wanted to monitor my life, I decided to give her something truly alarming to find. I created Ryder Stone, the brooding musician, everything she' d despise. It was time to stop being her puppet. It was time to turn her own controlling surveillance into my weapon, inviting her into a trap she wouldn' t see coming.

Introduction

My freshman year at Green Mountain College was supposed to be about freedom.

But my mom, Susan, had other plans for her only daughter.

She turned my dorm room into a high-tech prison, monitoring every single video call, scrutinizing my bank account, and even tracking my social media DMs "for my safety."

It wasn't safety; it was relentless, suffocating surveillance, a gilded cage I desperately wanted to escape.

Then came the ultimate college freshman nightmare: my debit card (tied to Mom' s account, of course) got declined at the crowded campus coffee shop.

Total humiliation.

A kind senior, Liam, stepped in and paid for my coffee and bagel; a simple, unexpected act of grace.

But that small kindness triggered a reaction I never anticipated.

Hours later, Liam messaged me, sending a screenshot that made my blood run cold.

My mother had instantly found his Venmo payment, tracked him on Instagram, and sent him a chilling message, warning him off her "vulnerable" daughter.

Liam, understandably, blocked me instantly, dissolving my only new connection.

Mom's video call that night wasn't an interrogation; it was an execution, dredging up every past friendship she' d ever destroyed, every connection she' d severed.

She wasn't just protective; she was ensuring I was utterly, completely hers.

The shame of that night quickly curdled into a burning, unyielding rage.

She wasn't trying to keep me safe; she was systematically isolating me, controlling my finances, my friendships, my entire existence.

I finally saw the pattern with terrifying clarity, a sinister obsession veiled as maternal love, one that perhaps even connected to my father' s "factory accident" years ago.

The thought that she might have secretly engineered my entire life filled me with a chilling dread.

I wasn't just terrified anymore.

I was done running.

If she wanted to monitor my life, I decided to give her something truly alarming to find.

I created Ryder Stone, the brooding musician, everything she' d despise.

It was time to stop being her puppet.

It was time to turn her own controlling surveillance into my weapon, inviting her into a trap she wouldn' t see coming.

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