When my pregnant sister demanded I hand over my college fund to help with her fifth baby, I finally understood what it meant to choose yourself over family expectations.
I’m the third of five kids in a family that’s been stuck in poverty for as long as anyone can remember.
Growing up, we lived on hand-me-downs, church charity, and whatever pity our extended family could spare. I wore my older brother’s jeans with the holes sewn up, and my shoes came from the donation box at school.
Now, I’m 19, and fighting like hell to break free through education.
College is harder than I ever imagined. I work 20 hours a week at a campus coffee shop, live on ramen noodles and whatever free food I can find, and count every single penny.
My textbooks are all used, and I haven’t bought new clothes in two years.
But I’m doing it. I’m trying to get there.
The only reason I can afford college at all is because of my late grandfather, Leo. Before he died three years ago, he set up small college funds for each of his grandchildren.
“Education is the only thing they can’t take away from you,” Grandpa Leo used to tell me. “Use it wisely.”
That fund is my lifeline. It’s my only guarantee that I won’t end up like the rest of my family.
Speaking of family, let me tell you about my oldest sister Rachel. She’s 27 and has four kids with three different fathers. The first baby came when she was just 18. Then another at 20.
Then she had twins at 24.
Rachel burned through her share of Grandpa’s college fund years ago.
Instead of using it for school, she spent it on a nail salon business that failed within six months. The rest went to expensive purses, fancy dinners, and a car she couldn’t afford to insure.
“I needed to invest in myself,” she always said when anyone questioned her choices.
Now, she barely makes ends meet, constantly looking for someone to bail her out. And guess who she usually calls?
That’s right. Me.
See, in our family, I’m known as “the responsible one.”
I’m the one who always helps out and the one who babysits Rachel’s kids when she’s not around.
My mom, Diane, always reinforced this role. “Lena, you’re so good with the babies. Lena, you’re so reliable. Lena, your sister needs you.”
I spent most of my teenage years raising kids that weren’t mine and missing out on being a kid myself because someone had to be the adult when Rachel couldn’t handle it.
But I told myself it was temporary.
That once I got to college, things would be different. I could focus on my own life for once.
Last Sunday, we all gathered at Mom’s house for dinner like we do every week. The table was crowded with my siblings, their kids, and the usual chaos that follows our family everywhere.
That’s when Rachel made her announcement.
“I have some exciting news,” she said, standing up with a huge smile on her face. “I’m pregnant again!”
Everyone erupted in cheers, while I felt my stomach drop to my feet.
“Congratulations,” I said, trying to sound sincere. “When are you due?”
“June,” Rachel beamed. “I’m already 12 weeks along.”
I did the quick math in my head. She’d been keeping this secret for a couple of months while I’d been helping her pay for groceries and babysitting her other kids.
“That’s wonderful, honey,” Mom said, hugging Rachel tight. “Another blessing.”
At that point, I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask her just this one question.
“How are you planning to afford another baby?”
“Well,” she said slowly, “I’ve been thinking about that. There’s still some of Grandpa’s college money left.”
“You already spent your share, Rachel,” I reminded her.
“I know,” she said, not meeting my eyes. “But there’s still your share.”
I couldn’t believe that she was serious. My share? Seriously?
Around the table, I could see my family nodding, as if this made perfect sense. Like my college fund was just sitting there, waiting to solve Rachel’s latest crisis.
“Think of the baby, Lena,” Mom said gently. “Family comes first. You know that.”
Rachel jumped on Mom’s support. “Yeah, and you don’t even have kids yet. You’re hoarding that money while I’m struggling to feed the ones I already have. Just think about it.”
I looked around the table at these people I loved, and for the first time in my life, I said no.
“I fight for my education every single day,” I said, my voice steady despite the trembling in my hands. “That money is mine. It’s for my education, and no one is entitled to it just because they made another mistake.”
You know what happened next? Yes, my family lost their cool.
“How can you be so selfish?” Rachel screamed, tears streaming down her face. “This is your nephew or niece we’re talking about!”
“Lena,” Mom said in that disappointed voice that used to make me crumble, “I raised you better than this. Family takes care of family. That’s what we do.”
“What about when I needed help with school supplies?” I shot back. “Or when I was working double shifts just to afford textbooks? Where was this family-takes-care-of-family attitude then?”
Rachel stood up so fast her chair fell backward. “You think you’re better than us now because you’re in college? You think you’re too good for your own family?”
“That’s not what I said—”
“It’s what you meant!” she yelled. “You’re sitting there in your fancy college, looking down on me because I have kids and you don’t!”
“Rachel, you spent your fund on a nail salon,” I said as calmly as I could. “Then you spent the rest on purses and dinners out while your kids needed diapers. That was your choice.”
“I was trying to build something!”
“And I’m trying to build something too. My future.”
As the words left my mouth, memories started flooding back.
All those times I’d sacrificed for Rachel. All those weekends I’d spent watching her kids instead of studying or hanging out with friends my own age.
I remembered being 15 and missing my school’s winter formal because Rachel needed a babysitter for her date night. I remembered giving up my part-time job at the library because Rachel’s childcare fell through and she needed me to watch the twins every afternoon.
I remembered cramming for my SATs at two in the morning because that was the only quiet time I could find after everyone went to bed.
I remembered working three jobs during my senior year, saving every penny for college applications and deposits, while Rachel spent her grocery money on a designer handbag.
“I gave up my entire childhood for you,” I said, my voice getting stronger. “I missed school events and time with friends. I babysat your kids so you could date their fathers. I helped you move apartments four times. I covered your bills when you spent your money on things you couldn’t afford.”
Rachel’s face was red with anger. “I never asked you to do any of that!”
“You didn’t have to ask. You just expected it. Like you’re expecting this.”
Mom reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “Sweetheart, I know you’ve sacrificed a lot. But this is different. There’s a baby coming—”
“There’s always a baby coming with Rachel,” I interrupted, pulling my hand away. “When does it end? When do I get to live my own life? This is not fair, okay? I’m done!”
The table went silent except for Rachel’s sniffling.
My older brother Mark, who’d been quiet this whole time, finally spoke up. “She’s right, you know.”
Everyone turned to look at him.
“Lena’s right,” he said again. “That money was meant for education. Grandpa Leo was clear about that.”
“Stay out of this, Mark,” Mom warned.
“No, I won’t stay out of it,” he said firmly. “I used my fund for college, too. It’s the only reason I have a decent job now. Why should Lena give up her future because Rachel made poor choices?”
Rachel started crying harder. “I can’t believe my own family is turning against me when I’m pregnant!”
“I’m not turning against you,” I said quietly. “I’m just finally turning toward myself.”
The aftermath was brutal.
For weeks, Rachel bombarded me with text messages.
At first, she was pleading.
“Please Lena, just think about the baby.”
Then, her tone shifted.
“I hope you’re happy with your selfish decision.”
“When this baby grows up without what it needs, that’s on you.”
I blocked her number after the tenth message in one day.
Then, I threw myself into my studies harder than ever. I picked up extra shifts at the coffee shop and applied for every scholarship I could find. I promised myself I would work hard and do everything to give myself the life I deserved.
I’d spent my whole life putting everyone else first.
This time, I chose me.
