My parents divorced when I was sixteen. I live with my mom, her boyfriend Mark, and his eleven-year-old son, Jake. Usually, things are okay—tolerable, I guess—but this particular weekend? It all blew up.
I was swamped with a huge university assignment, the kind that could seriously ruin my grade if I didn’t finish it right then. I was already stressed and focused entirely on my desk when Mark came in.
“You need to watch Jake for the afternoon,” he said.
I froze. I said I couldn’t, explaining I had my uni work that was due immediately. Before I could explain further, Mark slammed his hand down on the table and snapped, calling me irresponsible. I was stunned. I’ve never refused to babysit before, and this was the first time he just showed up and told me without any notice. My stomach dropped; something felt deeply off.
Then my mom walked in. She was calm on the surface, but with this mean, cold tone, and she said he was right.
That’s when I learned the truth: she had already promised Mark I would babysit Jake this weekend, all without telling me. Her reasoning? She thought it would teach me responsibility and help me bond with Jake.
What she didn’t consider was how stressed I already was, or how it would make me feel like I was just the family nanny. So, Mark blew up, and my mom just instantly sided with him. I felt completely cornered, frustrated, and honestly, betrayed.
I desperately wanted to explain that I had real, adult responsibilities of my own, but his anger was too loud. Jake looked worried, and my mom’s calm judgment made me feel like I was wrong no matter what I said.
What makes my heart heavier is that my mom didn’t see me in that moment. She didn’t consider my boundaries or the fact that I’m trying to manage school and life. She chose her boyfriend over me, and it really hurt. I love my mom, but this weekend made me seriously question how much she actually values me and respects my life.
