Parents made me babysit my sister’s three children while she partied. Then they demanded I buy her a house because their retirement fund ran out supporting her. When I refused, they threatened to sue me.

My sister, Lily, and I share the same parents, but our upbringing and how we were treated couldn’t have been more different. While Lily was the child they planned for and wanted, I was what they called the oops kid. My arrival into the world was an accident. My parents had decided that they only wanted one child, and after Lily, they were certain their family was complete. Then unexpectedly my mom got pregnant with me. They didn’t want another child. But at the same time they didn’t believe in ending the pregnancy. They were also worried about how their families and community might judge them if word got out that they didn’t want to keep their baby. So in the end they chose to have me not out of love or a desire to expand their family, but because they felt pressured by their beliefs and the opinions of others.

From as far back as I can remember, I’ve always felt like I didn’t belong. My sister Lily was the center of their world while I existed like a shadow. They never missed an opportunity to remind me that my birth wasn’t part of their plan. They would say outright that I wasn’t welcomed or wanted in the family, and their actions reflected those words. They ignored me most of the time and rarely showed me any affection. The only thing they ever seemed to appreciate about me was the fact that I was a boy.

My dad would often tell me that at least as a son, I could prove useful someday. He made it clear that when I grew up, my role in their lives would be to take on their financial burdens or help out my sister in some way. Both my mom and dad drilled this idea into my head over and over. They would keep reminding me that since I was never meant to be part of their lives, the least I could do was to work hard, earn good money, and make myself useful to them. They saw me not as a child to nurture, but as someone who should repay the inconvenience of my existence by being their backup plan and provider one day.

That’s how my life went for the first 18 years. While my sister Lily was treated like a princess who could do no wrong, I was treated as if I didn’t matter. She was the golden child, the one who got everything she wanted, while I was the forgotten one. On her birthdays, my parents threw her extravagant parties complete with balloons, cakes, and crowds of friends. Meanwhile, my birthdays often passed without any acknowledgement.

If they did remember, it was usually an afterthought. While Lily received new phones or even a car when she turned 16, I might get a gift card if I was lucky. The difference in how we were treated was glaringly obvious to everyone. I bottled up a lot of resentment because of this blatant favoritism. I couldn’t express how I felt. So instead, I poured all my energy into my studies.

It was the only way I could get a shred of approval from my parents. If I aced an exam or brought home good grades, I could at least enjoy one brief moment of them being proud of me. That feeling, as fleeting as it was, became my motivation.

Lily, on the other hand, didn’t have the same pressure. She wasn’t particularly bright academically, but my parents never encouraged her to push herself or try harder. They let her coast through life with little to no expectations. When it was time for Lily to go to college, my parents made an announcement that they had set aside a college fund for her. They didn’t want her to worry about loans or working part-time while studying.

It hurt to know that they had planned for her future so carefully when I doubted they had even considered mine. What made it worse was how she handled this gift. Instead of using the money wisely to earn a degree, Lily dropped out of college after just 3 months. She told our parents that college wasn’t for her and that she was destined to be a stay-at-home wife and mother, so she wanted to find herself a well-paying man.

Rather than challenging her decision or trying to guide her, my parents simply let her do what she wanted. Instead of holding her accountable, they enabled her choices. Lily then used the rest of her college fund to travel around Europe, indulging in a carefree lifestyle. She was basically partying all the time.

And this is how less than a year after leaving college, Lily got pregnant. That’s right. My sister got pregnant after a one-night stand with a complete stranger. The guy disappeared without a trace and she had no way to contact him. With nowhere else to turn, Lily came back home.

You’d think anyone in that situation would consider ending the pregnancy, especially since the father was out of the picture, and she had no job, no savings, and no plans for the future. But not Lily. Instead, she embraced the situation as if it were some kind of blessing. She told us she was glad to be pregnant and insisted that even though she couldn’t fulfill her dream of being someone’s wife first, becoming a mother was God’s plan for her.

What shocked me even more was how my parents reacted. Without any hesitation or serious discussion, they agreed to take on the responsibility of supporting Lily and her future child. To them, the idea of becoming grandparents overshadowed everything else. They were thrilled at the prospect, as if this unexpected pregnancy was a source of pride instead of a consequence of irresponsibility.

It didn’t matter that Lily was unprepared or that the circumstances were far from ideal. All that mattered was the label of grandparents and the chance to present a picture-perfect image to the world. But of course, appearances had to be managed. My parents and Lily quickly came up with an elaborate story to explain her unexpected pregnancy.

They decided to tell everyone that Lily had met a wonderful rich guy while traveling in Europe and how both of them fell in love before she got pregnant. They figured this would at least save Lily from the judgment and stigma that might come from admitting the truth — a one-night stand with someone she barely knew. My parents were more concerned about protecting her reputation than confronting the reality of her choices.

As for me, I was expected to play along with their fabricated story. They wanted me to back them up if anyone asked questions or expressed doubt about their story. I didn’t have much of a choice, so I kept my mouth shut and went along with it.

Deep down though, I resented how easily they brushed everything under the rug for her sake. Lily could do no wrong, even when her actions had serious consequences. While I was constantly told to be responsible and useful, when Lily gave birth, she had twins.

Now, I’m not a parent, but I can tell you this: if one baby is overwhelming, two are even harder to handle. It’s chaos times two. To make matters worse, Lily didn’t seem to take her responsibilities seriously. She did absolutely nothing to care for her babies. Instead, my parents picked up all the slack.

They fed the twins, changed them, bathed them, and rocked them to sleep. It was as if the kids weren’t even hers, but theirs. And as if that wasn’t enough, all three of them, Lily and my parents, expected me to pitch in whenever it was convenient for them.

At the time, I was in my last year of high school, focused on preparing for college. My plans didn’t involve sticking around at home any longer than necessary. I was determined to get out of there, so I was just trying to keep my head down and work hard at school. But obviously, to my sister, I was a free babysitter.

I can’t count the number of times they forced me to take care of her kids when I was a minor myself. She and my parents would constantly go out for dinner, see a movie, or just get some air. And without asking me, they’d dump the twins on me.

I was a minor myself and had zero experience with babies, but that didn’t seem to matter to them. They didn’t care if I had homework, deadlines, or any plans of my own. Their expectation was clear: I had to help whether I liked it or not.

The worst part was at night. Sometimes the twins would cry endlessly, keeping Lily awake. Instead of stepping up as their mother, she’d get frustrated, march into my room in the middle of the night, and hand me her babies.

“I need to sleep,” she’d say, and off she’d go to her room without a second thought. I’d be left holding two crying infants, trying to figure out what to do while running on exhaustion myself.

It felt like I was constantly treated like a servant, someone who existed only to make their lives easier. I had no life of my own. Between babysitting, dealing with the constant demands of my parents and sister, and trying to keep up with my schoolwork, I was drowning.

My only hope, the one thing that kept me going, was the thought of getting into college and leaving it all behind. Thankfully, when the time came, I was accepted into a great university. It felt like a light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

For a moment, I thought maybe my parents would be proud of me or support me the way they had supported Lily. I even dared to hope they might have set aside some sort of college fund for me just like they had done for her. But of course, they hadn’t.

When I asked them about it, their response crushed me. My parents flatly told me I was on my own. They explained that they had never planned or saved for my college education because according to them, I was never meant to be part of their lives in the first place.

My dad added that their savings had almost been drained by taking care of Lily and her kids, so there was nothing left for me. Once again, I was reminded that I wasn’t a priority, that I was never seen as part of their plans.

While they had gone above and beyond to support Lily, I was left to fend for myself. What hurt even more was my mom’s reaction. Instead of encouraging me to pursue my education, she outright tried to convince me to give it up, just like Lily had.

She told me I should be realistic and find a local job so I could start pitching in with the household expenses and bills. She made it clear that she and my dad didn’t want me to move out and go to college. What they really wanted was for me to stay home and essentially become their servant for the rest of my life.

But I wasn’t about to let that happen. I had spent years feeling trapped and invisible, and this was my one chance to break free. So, I found a way to make it work on my own. I applied for loans, worked out the financial details, and prepared to leave for college without any support from them.

When I told my family I was moving out, they were furious. My parents acted like I was betraying them, abandoning them after all they had done for me. Lily’s reaction was even worse. She was livid that I wouldn’t stay behind to help her with her kids.

In her mind, I was supposed to step in and be a father figure to her twins, as if that was somehow my responsibility. She tried to guilt-trip me, saying her kids needed me and that I was being selfish for leaving. It was absurd.

At one point, she even went so far as to try and set my things on fire just before I was about to leave. She called it punishment for abandoning her and the kids. Thankfully, I managed to stop her and retrieve my things.

Despite the chaos and drama, I managed to leave that house behind for good. College was brutal. Juggling a full course load, part-time jobs, and managing my loans was exhausting. There were moments when I felt overwhelmed and questioned if it was worth it, but I kept pushing forward.

My hard work eventually paid off. This year, I landed a great job, one that allows me to support myself and live independently in a small apartment in the city. It’s not luxurious, but it’s mine. And for the first time in my life, I feel free.

Over the past four years, my family hasn’t contacted me much unless they needed something from me. And whenever they did, I have always refused to entertain their demands. I’ve stayed firm in my boundaries as I’ve worked too hard to escape that toxic environment to let myself get pulled back in.

Lily, however, has been relentless. She still tries to guilt-trip me into visiting her kids. She tells me how much they miss me and paints me as a terrible person for not spending time with them. But I see it for what it is — another attempt to manipulate me into taking on responsibilities that were never mine to begin with.

Throughout all of this, Lily has remained completely dependent on my parents for everything. She has never held a steady job, not even close. The few times she did attempt to work, it ended disastrously.

Either she got rejected during the interview process or was fired after just a day or two because of her terrible attitude. She has always had this sense of entitlement as if the world owed her something simply for existing.

To make matters worse, last year Lily got pregnant again. This time, she gave birth to another son. Her ex-boyfriend, who was the father of this baby, broke up with her shortly after finding out she was pregnant.

To his credit, he has at least been paying child support. But that hasn’t stopped Lily from leaning heavily on my parents for everything else. And through all of this, my parents’ unwavering favoritism hasn’t faltered.

They continue to believe that Lily is some sort of perfect daughter who can do no wrong despite all the evidence to the contrary. They’ve carried the financial burden for her and all three of her children without a second thought.

Earlier this week, my parents called me out of the blue. This was unusual because they rarely reached out to ask how I was doing. I knew immediately that there was an ulterior motive behind their sudden interest.

So instead of engaging in pleasantries, I cut straight to the chase and asked, “What is it that you want?”

My dad didn’t even try to deny it. He told me how he and mom were getting old and that they were starting to feel sick and tired of living under the same roof as Lily and her three kids.

He mentioned how it was becoming harder for them to manage the chaos and noise. Then he dropped the real reason for the call. They had been house hunting for Lily and had apparently found the perfect apartment for her and the kids.

I told him that was great news and suggested that he talk to Lily about it. I said it as neutrally as possible, but deep down I knew exactly how this was going to play out.

There was no way Lily was going to agree to move out. Why would she? She had a sweet deal living with my parents. They babysat her kids all day for free while she went off gallivanting with her friends.

She had zero incentive to leave a situation where she had no responsibilities and complete freedom to do as she pleased.

My parents had enabled her a lot and now they were looking for a way to pass that responsibility on to someone else. I could sense where this conversation was headed and I braced myself for what was coming next.

My dad continued, explaining in detail how he had looked into the rent for the apartment they had found for Lily. He admitted it was quite steep, but he also mentioned that upon talking to the landlord, he had learned the apartment was available for purchase as well.

Apparently, the landlord was willing to sell it at what my dad described as a reasonable price. That’s when he told me outright that he needed me to buy this apartment for my sister and her kids.

I was stunned. For a moment, I thought I must have misheard him. Buy a house for Lily? In this economy? I don’t even own my own home. I live in a rented apartment and I’m still trying to find my financial footing, but they expected me to take on the massive responsibility of buying a house for my dumb sister.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the suggestion. “No,” I said firmly.

My dad started to argue that Lily could never afford rent on her own since she doesn’t have a job. He explained how he and mom would have no choice but to cover her rent themselves if she moved into that apartment.

Then he explained how they simply couldn’t afford to do that because their retirement fund had almost run out by now and they didn’t have much left anymore.

I listened to his reasoning, but my stance didn’t change. “That’s not really my problem,” I replied matter-of-factly.

My dad wouldn’t let it go. He began pleading, trying to tug at my sense of guilt and responsibility. He told me I should think of it as a one-time handout for Lily, someone who has suffered so much as a single mother.

He added that her children deserved a good future and that I had the means to help make that happen. But his words didn’t move me.

I knew better than to let myself get dragged into their endless cycle of enabling Lily. I had worked far too hard to build a life for myself, and I wasn’t about to throw it all away for someone who had done nothing to help herself.

“No,” I repeated, unwavering.

My dad sighed, clearly frustrated with me. But I wasn’t about to budge. I had spent my entire life being treated like an afterthought while Lily was handed everything on a silver platter. I wasn’t going to be the one to clean up the mess they had created by coddling her all these years.

This is when my mom chimed in to say how, as Lily’s brother, I should step up and take some responsibility and how she and dad had taken care of her for so long already without any complaints.

I took a deep breath to steady myself before responding. “First of all,” I said, “you and Dad chose to take care of Lily. That was your decision, and you went along with it because you wanted to, not because you had to. But that doesn’t mean I’m obligated to do the same. Lily is not my child. She’s not my responsibility.”

Mom fell quiet for a moment, but my dad quickly took over, trying a different angle. “Your mother and I have sacrificed so much for you,” he said, his voice dripping with exasperation. “You wouldn’t be where you are today in your career if it weren’t for us.”

This made me laugh out loud. I couldn’t help it. The sheer irony of his statement was almost too much to handle. “Sacrificed?” I asked, chuckling. “You really think you sacrificed for me? That’s hilarious. Thank you for the laugh, Dad. The only thing you and Mom deserve for your non-existent sacrifices in return is a parenting guidebook.”

That was the final straw. My parents were furious. My dad’s voice rose as he called me selfish and unreasonable. My mom chimed in, echoing his words and saying how disappointed they were in me. They tried yet again to urge me to reconsider my decision for the sake of Lily and her kids, of course, but I wasn’t moved.

I’d heard this song and dance too many times before. I remained firm in my refusal, and the call ended with my parents practically begging me to think it over.

Since that day, my parents have been relentless. They’ve taken to calling me every single day without fail, hoping to wear me down. It’s almost laughable how predictable they are — coaxing and pleading in the hope that I’ll eventually give in. But their constant badgering only strengthens my resolve.

They still can’t understand that I’m not their safety net anymore. For years, they treated me like a burden, and now that their golden child can’t take care of herself, they suddenly expect me to swoop in and fix everything.

But I won’t. I’ve worked too hard and sacrificed too much to build a peaceful life away from their toxicity. They can guilt-trip, manipulate, or even threaten me all they want — I’m done being their backup plan.

I finally see them for who they are: people who only reach out when they need something. And I refuse to be used ever again.