I didn’t sleep that night. Not because of the pain, though it throbbed in slow, deliberate waves, but because my mind wouldn’t stop replaying old scenes I’d worked hard to forget. When you grow up in a family like mine, you learn early how to label yourself.
My sister was the “Investment.” My parents said it openly, without shame. She had potential. She needed support. Every misstep was framed as a temporary setback on the road to something great.
I was the “Reliable One.” The one who didn’t ask. The one who figured it out.
When my sister dropped out of her first business venture—an online boutique that burned through fifteen thousand dollars in six months—my father wrote a check without blinking. No questions, no contracts, no lectures. My mother called it “helping her find her footing.”
When the second venture failed—a wellness studio with more mirrors than clients—my parents refinanced part of the house to keep it afloat. “You have to spend money to make money,” my father said proudly, like he was quoting scripture.
I remember sitting at the kitchen table during one of those conversations, quietly eating cereal after a twelve-hour shift at my first civilian job before I enlisted. I didn’t say anything. I just watched.
When I was twenty-two, my car’s transmission went out. I needed two thousand dollars to get it fixed so I could commute. I asked my parents for a loan. Not a gift—a loan. They agreed. On conditions. My father printed out a contract from his office. Interest included: 5%. My mother insisted we get it notarized. “It’s important to be formal,” she said. “It builds character.”
For six months, I ate canned food and walked miles to save on gas. I paid them back early, believing—honestly believing—that responsibility would earn respect. It didn’t. It just set the standard for how much I could be expected to endure without complaint.
Now, sitting in my apartment with my leg elevated on mismatched pillows, that pattern finally made sense. This wasn’t about money. It never had been. They had money. They just didn’t have it for me.
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