When my pregnant sister demanded I give up my college fund to help with her fifth baby, I realized what it truly meant to put myself before 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 survived on hand-me-downs, charity from the church, and whatever pity our extended family could spare. I wore my older brother’s jeans with the holes patched up, and my shoes were from the school’s donation box.
Now, I’m 19, fighting to break free with education.
College is harder than I ever thought. I work 20 hours a week at a campus coffee shop, survive on ramen noodles and whatever free food I can get, and track every single penny. My textbooks are 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 even afford college is because of my late grandfather, Leo. Before he passed away three years ago, he set up small college funds for each of his grandchildren.
“Education is the only thing they can’t take from you,” Grandpa Leo used to say. “Use it wisely.”
That fund is my lifeline. It’s my guarantee that I won’t end up like the rest of my family.
Now, let me tell you about my oldest sister, Rachel. She’s 27 and has four kids from three different fathers. Her first baby came when she was 18, then another at 20, and 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 failed nail salon business, then splurged on designer purses, fancy dinners, and a car she couldn’t afford to insure.
“I needed to invest in myself,” she’d always say when anyone questioned her choices.
Now, she can barely make ends meet, constantly calling someone for help. And guess who she usually turns to?
Yep, me.
In our family, I’m “the responsible one.” I’m the one who always helps out, who babysits Rachel’s kids when she’s not around.
My mom, Diane, has 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, missing out on my own childhood because someone had to play the adult when Rachel couldn’t.
But I kept telling myself it was temporary. That once I got to college, things would change. I could focus on my own life.
Last Sunday, we had our usual family dinner at Mom’s house. The table was crowded with my siblings, their kids, and the usual chaos that follows us.
That’s when Rachel made her announcement.
“I have exciting news,” she said, grinning. “I’m pregnant again!”
Everyone cheered, and my stomach dropped to my feet.
“Congratulations,” I said, trying to sound genuine. “When are you due?”
“June,” she beamed. “I’m already 12 weeks along.”
I quickly did the math in my head. She’d been hiding this for a couple of months while I’d been helping with groceries and babysitting her other kids.
“That’s wonderful, honey,” Mom said, wrapping Rachel in a hug. “Another blessing.”
At that point, I couldn’t hold it in. I had to ask.
“How are you planning to afford another baby?”
“Well,” she said, hesitating, “I’ve been thinking about that. There’s still some of Grandpa’s college money left.”
“You already spent yours, Rachel,” I reminded her.
“I know,” she said, not looking me in the eye. “But there’s still your share.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My share? Seriously?
Around the table, I saw family members nodding as if this made perfect sense. Like my college fund was just sitting there, ready to fix Rachel’s problem.
“Think about the baby, Lena,” Mom said gently. “Family comes first. You know that.”
Rachel jumped in. “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 at the people I loved, and for the first time, I said no.
“I fight for my education every single day,” I said, my voice steady despite the shaking in my hands. “That money is mine. It’s for my future, and no one is entitled to it just because they made another mistake.”
And, of course, my family lost it.
“How can you be so selfish?” Rachel screamed, tears streaming down her face. “This is your nephew or niece we’re talking about!”
Mom looked at me with disappointment. “Lena, 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 to afford textbooks? Where was this family-takes-care-of-family attitude then?”
Rachel stood up so fast that her chair fell over. “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, trying to stay calm. “Then you spent the rest on purses and dinners 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 I spoke, memories came rushing back.
All the times I sacrificed for Rachel. All the weekends spent watching her kids instead of studying or hanging out with friends. Missing my winter formal when I was 15 because Rachel needed a babysitter for her date night. Giving up my part-time job at the library because she needed me to watch the twins.
I remembered cramming for my SATs at two in the morning because that was the only quiet time I had after everyone went to bed.
I remembered working three jobs during my senior year, saving every penny for college applications, while Rachel spent her grocery money on a designer handbag.
“I gave up my whole childhood for you,” I said, my voice strong. “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 isn’t fair. I’m done!”
The room went silent except for Rachel’s sniffles.
My older brother, Mark, who’d been quiet, spoke up. “She’s right, you know.”
Everyone looked 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,” he said firmly. “I used my fund for college too. It’s the only reason I have a good job now. Why should Lena give up her future because Rachel made poor choices?”
Rachel burst into tears. “I can’t believe my family is turning against me when I’m pregnant!”
“I’m not turning against you,” I said softly. “I’m finally turning toward myself.”
The aftermath was brutal.
Rachel bombarded me with text messages for weeks.
At first, they were pleading. “Please, Lena. Just think about the baby.”
Then the 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, applied for every scholarship I could find, and promised myself that I would work hard for the life I deserved.
For the first time, I chose me.
Do you think I made the right choice? What would you have done in my shoes?