I had been paying for my parents’ living expenses, but at the TA Christmas party, I found out they were making me out to be a low-educated freeloader. So, I cut ties and stopped sending them money the next month. I am Rebecca, a fashion designer, and I am currently 26 years old. I was born and raised in a small town in the countryside, where I lived with my grandparents, my parents, and Ashley, my sister, who is seven years younger than me. Ashley was very much adored, and the family’s attention was always on her. As a result, her opinions and whims were often prioritized, and I became accustomed to being overlooked in the background.

There was a noticeable difference in how our parents treated us.

For example, on Ashley’s birthday, she would receive luxurious toys, whereas my birthday gifts were combined with Christmas and limited to just one present, often educational tools or books that weren’t very exciting to a child. When Ashley joined the soccer team, our parents started attending her practices and games almost every week. I was also in the tennis club during middle school, but even on the day of my last match, my parents didn’t come. The reason was that they had to drive Ashley to her practice. This is how my parents always prioritized Ashley over me. There were times I wanted to cry, but the one who encouraged me was none other than Ashley. When our parents compared us, she would firmly respond, “That’s not true! My sister is smart too. She always helps me with my studies, and she’s amazing.”

A few days after my last match, Ashley said, “Well done!” and made a small bouquet with flowers she gathered from the local park, presenting it to me. Ashley had grown into a child with a kind heart. Meanwhile, our grandparents, who lived with us, often reprimanded our parents for their behavior and were protective of me. However, before I graduated from high school, my grandmother passed away, and my grandfather followed her a few days later.

Ashley always stood by me, but it seemed to bother our mother. She began to treat Ashley more harshly, threatening, “If you keep defending your sister, I’ll make you stand outside.” It was during the cold winter months when the snow began to fall, and I didn’t want Ashley to suffer such treatment. So, I had no choice but to say, “You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” Afterward, Ashley stopped defending me and began to focus on sports and studies under our parents’ roof, enjoying peaceful and happy days.

The consecutive funerals of our grandparents also affected our parents, who claimed they had no savings and easily denied my wish to attend university. I wanted to study design, but my parents didn’t approve. After graduating from high school, I had no choice but to find a job. Still wanting to work in design, I moved away from home and joined a company that produced a small fashion magazine. My main job was clerical, but I wanted to try designing, so I persuaded my boss to let me assist the designers.

Working in an office while being exposed to professional designers’ work every day was also a reality check. However, that reality only fueled my motivation, and my dream of becoming a fashion designer grew day by day. I dedicated all my free time to studying, returning home only minimally. When I did visit, I was met with only cold words from my parents. Instead, I focused on studying design on weekends, acquiring specialized knowledge through online courses and other means. Thanks to my efforts, the company recognized my dedication, and I was finally welcomed as a member of the design team. My passionate work ethic resonated with the surrounding designers, who generously shared useful materials and connections with me.

Three years later, I had grown to take on projects as a full-fledged fashion designer. Eight years after graduating from high school and becoming accustomed to my job, I heard that Ashley was preparing for her university entrance exams. She was aiming for a prestigious private university’s medical school. Ashley maintained top grades locally due to her daily efforts, and her admission was almost guaranteed.

How she supported me as a child, I wanted to support her in any way I could. A few months later, Ashley was successfully admitted to the renowned Medical University. When I heard the news of her acceptance, I was truly happy and immediately expressed my congratulations. “Ashley, congratulations! You worked hard, going to cram school every day—amazing!”

Ashley modestly thanked me, but then she brought up a concern. “Actually, it seems that a donation is needed for the medical school. It’s not mandatory, but Dad and Mom say it would be embarrassing if someone from the countryside didn’t pay, so it would be better to pay, right? But you know, our family’s finances are stretched thin with my tuition and living expenses, right?”

Ashley herself offered to manage her living expenses with part-time work, but the story with the medical school was different. It was clear that the amount of study required left no room for part-time jobs. While a donation might be necessary, the reality was that our family’s income—our father being a regular white-collar worker and our mother working part-time twice a week—couldn’t afford it. Attending a private medical school would be a significant burden, even with just the tuition alone.

I thought they might be counting on my savings, but I was surprised they didn’t ask directly and instead had Ashley bring it up.

Despite my growing disappointment with our parents, I decided to honor Ashley’s request and help with the donation and other expenses necessary for her admission. Thus, Ashley rented an apartment near the university and started her new life. The apartment wasn’t too far from where I lived, and I was ready to help whenever needed. However, Ashley seemed to be enjoying her university life, and whenever I reached out, her responses were always indifferent. Still, she frequently sent requests like, “I want to eat this,” or “Please send me that.” Reluctantly, I arranged deliveries and lent her the necessary money, taking over the financial support our parents couldn’t handle.

Although we occasionally had meals out together, Ashley was aloof throughout, constantly on her phone except when eating. Any attempt at conversation was dismissed with a simple, “I’m busy with studies,” and we hardly had any meaningful discussions. Every time I encountered her cold attitude, I grew increasingly perplexed. When did we start drifting apart like this?

Today’s meal also felt as if I had forced her to come. Judging by Ashley’s reactions, I tried to change the atmosphere by bringing up a light-hearted topic about home. “Well, as long as you’re doing well, Ashley, that’s probably enough for Mom and Dad, right?”

Upon mentioning this, Ashley suddenly stared at me and smirked coldly. “Of course, I’m a famous medical student, and you’re just a high school graduate designer. Dad and Mom aren’t worried about you. It’s a job that doesn’t even require a qualification,” she said. Her harsh words squeezed my heart painfully.

“What do you mean by ‘doesn’t need a qualification’?” I asked.

“Just what I said. You say you’re a designer, but anyone can do that nowadays just by looking it up online. Even my friends can easily set up websites. Aren’t you embarrassed to be doing such a job? Maybe you should at least get a certification. Oh, but that might be hard for a high school grad.”

“I’ve worked hard to get where I am in my job. How can you belittle me like this, Ashley? What happened to you?” I said, my voice shaking.

Ashley glared at me with irritation and clicked her tongue. “Mom and Dad say it every day. They say that I’m outstanding, getting into a prestigious medical school, but it’s embarrassing that their eldest is just a high school grad. They say the future doctor should take care of her sister so she doesn’t get any more jealous. That’s why I reluctantly contact you and dine with you.”

Those words revived memories from our childhood. Our parents had always compared us—Ashley is smart and reliable, while Rebecca is clumsy, stupid, and useless—they would say directly to my face. Those memories stabbed at my heart, and I felt suffocated, dizzy from the shock. I lowered my head to endure the pain, thinking I was crying.

Ashley snorted softly and said, “Well, I’ll be going ahead then,” and quickly left the table with her new life at university. Ashley had become a completely different person. Our parents’ constant praise, saying Ashley’s peers were all geniuses, unlike anyone seen locally, must have inflated her confidence even more. Additionally, the daily accolades from our parents saying, “Ashley is truly a genius; you will be a great doctor in the future,” must have encouraged her attitude further. In the shadows of that, the demeaning remarks about me were repeated. Our parents’ attitudes must have influenced Ashley to some extent.

At the year’s end, I planned to reserve a dinner at a local restaurant to celebrate my raise. When I mentioned it to our parents, they said, “Bring Ashley home with you,” and I reluctantly agreed to go home with her. Ashley seemed busy with studies and training, as this was her first time returning home in a while. Perhaps because of that, from the moment she arrived, our parents nearly ignored me, focusing solely on her. At night, they gathered neighbors, relatives, and even Ashley’s former classmates who remained locally. A lavish spread of dishes was laid out, with ordered pizzas and a barbecue in the garden, and a grand party began.

Just as I was about to address the real reason for the party by taking the microphone, my mother grabbed it and started saying, “Today, we are here to announce that Ashley has been accepted into medical school and will become a respectable doctor in the future.” This party was planned to celebrate my promotion. Shocked by my mother’s words, I tried to correct the story, but my father stopped me. Then Ashley, energized by the gathered crowd, began boasting aloud, “My mother wants me to come home more, but I’m studying at a prestigious private university, and moreover, in the medical department. So you must understand, it’s not easy for me to just come home. In medical school, we often need to cooperate as a team, not just individually, so if I alone return home, it causes trouble for others. Everyone asks me for help when they don’t understand something, and it’s a bit overwhelming.”

I quietly slipped away into the kitchen, pretending to prepare the food.

However, Ashley’s boastful words still reached my ears. While it was inevitable that our parents and relatives would praise Ashley, it must have been painful for the neighbors and former classmates to hear her boasting. As Ashley’s monologue continued one-sidedly, a neighbor, tired of listening, took the opportunity when I brought some drinks to strike up a conversation.

“By the way, Rebecca, you’re working hard in design, aren’t you?”

But Ashley and her parents immediately shook their heads and denied it. “She’s trying, sort of, but not much can be expected. It’s embarrassing that Rebecca is just a high school graduate. She’s so different from Ashley,” my mother said with a hint of disdain. My father agreed, nodding, “Yes, yes,” while my sister, sitting beside them, seemed to understand that she was being praised, displaying a proud smile.

In the room, there were many people who had only finished high school and were working, as well as parents with children in similar situations. While alcohol and food were being served, everyone tried to keep a composed expression, but it was evident that they were somehow enduring the situation. The only ones who seemed unaware were my parents and Ashley.

I couldn’t stand the unpleasant atmosphere and tried to leave without saying a word. However, Ashley stopped me. “You come back home quite often, don’t you? I can come back with confidence because I study hard every day, but maybe you don’t mind because you lack both academic credentials and pride.”

Ashley laughed loudly as she said this. Even though my father said, “Hey, that’s not a nice way to speak,” he was laughing a little too. I was speechless at her words and felt anger welling up.

“Good for you,” I replied with a trembling voice, cutting her off. As the people around us looked on with concern, I put down my tray and grabbed my coat and bag. While I was getting ready to leave, Ashley and the others were grinning and exchanging looks.

“If you’re going to say that, I’ll do as you say. I’ll never come back,” I said, a volcanic rage stirring inside me. Yet, all the words that came out were cold and emotionless.

I no longer had any feelings for my parents or Ashley when I spat out those words. The three family members waved cheerfully, saying, “Don’t ever come back.” On the way to the bus station, I was desperately suppressing the urge to scream. Returning home had always been painful. When I was aspiring to be a fashion designer, I hardly went home, using my studies as an excuse. But as I grew as a professional, I struggled with the inescapable bond between parent and child. Ashley is much younger and still a student. It might not be easy for her to understand the hardships I faced since entering the workforce. However, my parents must have worked to some extent to raise two children. Yet because Ashley was academically gifted, they continued to praise her as a genius while demeaning me.

Their childish words still echoed in my mind. While I felt anger, I also felt a deep disappointment squeezing my heart. If I valued my work, I couldn’t continue such a relationship, even if they were family. I was appalled by Ashley’s terrible behavior, but it prompted me to decide to completely cut off my relationship with my parents.

Several months after making this decision, as the new academic year was about to start, I received a sudden call from Ashley. She had not contacted me at all since then, but now she was sending multiple messages saying, “Please answer the phone.” Reluctantly, I picked up.

“Hey, what about my tuition?” There was a mix of fear and urgency in Ashley’s voice.

I answered calmly, “I paid for the admission fee, donation, and your first-year tuition.”

“No, I mean the tuition for the second year. The university is telling me to pay it quickly because it hasn’t been paid yet for this year.”

“What are you telling me this for?” I asked, feeling a rising sense of disbelief.

Ashley was at a loss for words on the other end of the line. Indeed, I had used my savings to pay for Ashley’s expensive tuition, but what I paid was the admission fee, donation, and tuition for the first year. As a result, my savings had decreased significantly, and I had planned to make further payments gradually. So, the tuition for the following years was, of course, still unpaid.

After treating me so coldly, as if we had cut ties, to ask me for tuition was shocking. The only thing I had been asked to help with was the donation. Wasn’t it? I only assisted with the tuition because I was being overly helpful. “Didn’t Mom and Dad allow you to go to a private university because they could afford the tuition, unlike when I was your age? Or did you apply without thinking about the money?”

“That’s not true, but living expenses and travel costs are quite hard. Many of my classmates are wealthy, and I have those social obligations too. My parents helped with that, but they said they couldn’t afford the tuition and told me to ask you.”

The reason I had financial flexibility was significant. I had switched to a major design firm to further advance my career in fashion design. Having established a certain level of success, my salary had increased dramatically. Moreover, because I was so busy with work, my salary and bonuses were accumulating rapidly. I had told my parents about the job change, so they probably thought from the beginning that with my help, they could pay for Ashley’s tuition. Furthermore, they probably assumed I could also help with the tuition because they knew about the donation. So, the savings originally meant for Ashley’s leisure and wasteful spending had disappeared.

Yet, I no longer felt forgiving toward her. It would have been easy to support the tuition, but I refused Ashley’s request. Days later, when my parents contacted me again, I rejected their offer. They spoke to me over the phone with panicked voices, sounding accusatory, which only sank my heart further.

At that moment, I realized I could no longer return home. They were only counting on my money, not truly wanting my support as a family member. There was no reason to be exploited for my savings without any discussion. Ashley called me almost every day, crying over the phone. If there had been even one sincere apology I might have reconsidered. However, her words were always, “Please pay for my tuition.

If this continues, I’ll be expelled. I’m doing scholarships and part-time jobs, but it’s not enough at all. What do you think everyone will think if a student as excellent as me gets expelled? I’ll pay back the money once I become a doctor. We’re family, so please help me.”