“Sit the kids today. I’ll drop them off at 9 a.m. Just for a couple of hours.”
A familiar lump formed in my chest. It was never a couple of hours. It was always the entire weekend. No asking, no considering my plans — just orders. I stared at the message, anger bubbling over.
I wasn’t her free nanny. I was done.
So I texted back: “If you want me to babysit like a full-time nanny, pay me.”
Lauren was furious. Called me heartless. And within hours, she’d spun a story to our parents. By the time I saw them, they had already made up their minds — I was selfish, ungrateful.
And just like that, I became the family outcast. No calls, no messages. Just silence.
Then one day, my phone rang. It was my mom. Her voice was urgent.
“Come over. Right now. It’s important.”
For years, I babysat my sister’s kids for free, always feeling obligated. But when she asked me again, I finally set a boundary: I’d need to be paid for babysitting. Her response was furious, accusing me of treating family like strangers. The tension grew, and my parents got involved at Sunday dinner, where I stood my ground, explaining I was just asking for fairness.
Though my sister ignored me for days, she eventually admitted she hadn’t considered how it affected me. She apologized and agreed to ask in advance and pay me. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start—a shift from expectations to mutual respect. For the first time, my time mattered too.
