_Sign Your Sister_s _200_000 Loan Or You_re Banned__ My Mom Demanded... - Reddit Family Tales

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Sign your sister's two hundred thousand dollars loan or your band.
My mom demanded. I said no, accepted my dublin job,
and cut off forty three missed calls that night. My
name is Silas. I'm chist A Pierce, the oldest child,
the first to leave home, and the first to receive
a solid paycheck. If you ask my relatives, they would
say I'm financially responsible. If you asked me, I would

(00:23):
say I am a background guy, useful and quiet, there
to hold the latter as others climb. My younger sister,
maryn is the golden one. Different rules, different tones of voice,
the same house, two realities. When we were kids, I
did chores for money. She received surprises for doing her
best in high school. I purchased my own second hand

(00:43):
laptop using tips from bussing tables. She got a new
phone for safety. That pattern never ended. It simply learnt
greater numbers and better reasons. I work in operations for
a multinational logistics company. It's not spectacular, but it's reliable.
I track shipments, repair processes, and ensure that things run
on time. I prefer figures that add up invoices that

(01:04):
are transparent, and calendars that are real. My life fits
into a spreadsheet. My family lives in a group chat.
The last Sunday dinner I attended was a month ago.
Mom had a roast in the oven. Dad's game was
on mute. Marin arrived twenty minutes late, wearing an enormous
sweater that likely cost a car payment. She kissed Mom's cheek,

(01:25):
sat down, and immediately inquired, do we have lemon water
or just regular? I began chopping parsley sink works, I inquired.
She made an expression as if I had advised drinking
from a puddle. Auntizolda leaned across the table. Silas, you're
not still renting, are you? That's just lighting money on fire,

(01:45):
working on it, I answered. Mom did not glance up
from basting. He likes to be careful. She said, he's
good with that. Our planner. Then she tapped the oven
door with the back of the spoon and lightly added, besides,
Silas is comfortable. He's not like Marn. She's creative. She's
meant for more. Maren tucked her chin into her palm

(02:06):
and grinned without teeth, like a magazine ad. I'm figuring
things out. She said, it's a journey. I continued chopping.
Dad turned up the noise for a replay and added,
silas grabbed the bill when it arrives. I forgot my
wallet in the car. In the kitchen, I said. Everyone chuckled.
It was an easy joke since it was a simple assumption.

(02:26):
Of course I would pay the bill. I always pay
the bill. Later, in the living room, I told Mom
that I was considering taking a short term assignment abroad
six months, I answered, maybe a year. She shrugged it
off with the hand that wasn't holding her glass. Sweetye,
that's not realistic. Your sister needs you right now. What
does that mean? I inquired. Don't be defensive, She stated,

(02:50):
you know how Marin is. She just needs a little runway.
Marn walked in, looked at her image in the black
TV screen and told me you'll understand when you let go.
A little, something small and old shifted in my chest.
It wasn't anger. It was the heavy old feeling I
used to get as a youngster. When the teacher shouted
group project and everyone glanced at me because they wanted

(03:10):
an a without doing any work. I put down the
knife I brought dessert. It's in the fridge. Aunt Isolda
said from the table, you're a doll, then quietly to Mom,
hoping I wouldn't hear. You're lucky to have him. Mom responded,
without lowering her voice, of course we are. That's what
family is. There was a pause, the kind in which

(03:33):
you're expected to nod, agree and express gratitude for being required.
I nodded anyhow, and that was all that small moment,
no yelling, no commotion, just a quick reminder of the rules.
Maren dreams, I do the dishes. Marin discovers herself. I
found my wallet that night. I laid on my couch,

(03:54):
staring at the ceiling and felt the old pang's return,
the one you confuse for love, because it began in
the same home. I slept poorly. I kept hearing Mom's
sentence in my thoughts. She needs you right now. It
was about to become a number. I could feel it.
The money didn't start out enormous. It began with put
it on your card, we'll settle up. The first time,

(04:16):
it was a one year family phone plan. Mom stated
that one year became five or two hundred and sixteen
dollars every month. Then Netflix cost fourteen dollars and ninety
nine cents. Then can you add your sister to your
car insurance for now ninety six dollars more. I assured
myself everything was good. I could afford it. It maintained
the calm. After college, I stayed at home for two

(04:38):
years to help out while my father's hours were reduced.
I paid half of the mortgage temporarily. Temporary became don't
rock the boat. When I finally moved out, I left
my name on the power bill because auto pay had
already been set up. We'll switch it. Mom replied, next month. Birthdays,
your grandmother's knee, and our hectic schedule have all pushed

(04:59):
next month back. I had a list on my phone.
It included dates, sums, and confirmation numbers. It resembled a
normal person's notes app, and a little account contained a baby. Meanwhile,
Marin tried other things, including a bakery internship, a travel blog,
and a wellness coaching credential that she never finished paying off.
I loaned her four hundred dollars for books once, and
then eight hundred fifty dollars as a deposit that she

(05:21):
would forfeit if she backed out. Then one thousand, two
hundred dollars when the vehicle died, and it was somehow
my fault because I used it last winter. I recorded
the amount of my notes and marked any that I
believed would never return with two stars. She calls money energy.
I call it rent. Why are you pushing back? Mom
indicated these were minor issues. When I sent Marin a

(05:42):
Venmo request with the polite phrase, hey, can you tackle
this this week? She responded with a heart and no money.
Don't be transactional. She said in person, it's gross. Dad's
response was always family is family. It evens out. It didn't.
It just became cleaner. The requests were presented more effectively.

(06:03):
We figured it would be easier if one person handled
the payments. Mom texted me once, including a copy of
our water bill with my old account number circled in
blue marker. You're organized, she said, we'll get you next time.
I am not a saint, I am not a martyr.
I'm a guy who can do math. I kept assisting,
since it was easier than battling. It seemed like leaving

(06:24):
a light on for folks you don't know will ever
return home. Last winter I was offered a rotation at
our Dublin office, twelve months, housing, stipend, travel, reimbursement, and raise.
It was everything I said I wanted. When I was honest,
I partly accepted and then paused. I told them I
needed time in my family. Leaving meant more than just leaving.

(06:45):
It was abandoning. It was done to make you feel
superior to us. I told Mom about it in January.
She added, we'll talk after Marn figures out her next step.
Her next step was a man named Dorian in an
apartment they couldn't afford. He's a place enough person. He
donned a beanie to Thanksgiving and addressed my mother as ma'am,
which she adored. In March, Maron and Dorian acquired a dog.

(07:08):
Maron resigned her job in April because she felt her
boss was poisonous. In May, the group chat became busier.
Rent his predatory landlords are vampires. Capitalism is violent. I
muted it for eight hours before going for a walk.
By June, i'd completed three small tasks, the phone bill.
When Mom's automobiles started acting strangely, Maron's auto insurance was limited.

(07:30):
On Venmo, the universe sent us Thalia. So we got
a surprise VET bill two hundred sixteen dollars ninety six
dollars three hundred forty seven dollars, numbers that seemed modest
until they formed a pile of straws. Mom's language changed around.
Then she started using wi. We thought we could all
pitch in. If I inquired who we were, she answered, oh, silas,

(07:52):
don't start. You know what I mean. I understand exactly
what she means. The first time the figure two hundred
thousand dollars appeared, it wasn't in a text. It was
a white binder with tabs. Mom slipped it over the
table as if she were handing me a college brochure.
Maren's opening a studio. She remarked, there's a whole plan,
a year of runway. She just needs a guaranty to

(08:15):
unlock better terms. A guaranteur, I said again. Dad cleared
his throat. It's just your name, he explained. It shows confidence,
it shows liability, I said. Marn twirled a strand of
hair and said, it's not that deep. It is exactly
that deep. I responded, one hundred fifty grand is deep.

(08:37):
It's an investment in family. My mom responded, we would
do it for you. They would not. They never had.
I closed and slid the binder back. I can't co
sign alone for you, I told marn I love you,
but no. She rolled her eyes as if I had
refused to share fries. Wow, she replied, you're so tight.

(09:00):
Mom called that night crying. Dad called and did not answer.
Aunt Isolda delivered an audio message on seasons and abundance.
Marin shared an Instagram story about financial abuse, along with
a passage from a sight about wealthy siblings. Dorrian texted
me a thumbs down. I placed my phone face down
and watched the ceiling fan trace lazy circles in the darkness.

(09:21):
The Dublin offer waited in my inbox like a door
half open. I felt air passing through it. Then came
the ask within the ask, I am quitting my work.
You will support us while I find myself. Not yet written,
but soon I could hear it approaching, like a locomotive
around a bend. The track was already laid. It came
on Wednesday at eight twelve a m. I was brushing

(09:43):
my teeth. My phone vibrated on the sink. Maron, I
am quitting today. I can't take the tension any more.
You will support us while I find myself. There was
no question mark anywhere in the message, just the assurance
of someone who has always landed on a cushion. She
didn't make I cleaned my lips, examined my face in
the mirror, sleep creased in ordinary, and typed back with

(10:06):
my thumbs me, that's not my problem. I press submit.
My hands did not shake. I was not mean. I
was concise. In sixty seconds, Mom, call me m right now, Maren,
are you serious? Dorian brother? The Dublin email was still

(10:26):
open on my laptop. I scrolled to the bottom and
hit except start date Monday. The flight has been assigned,
apartment has been arranged. It felt like returning a plate
to its proper place in the cupboard. Eight minutes later,
Mom delivered the all caps classic EMO banned from Thanksgiving
until you sign your sister's two hundred thousand dollars loan.

(10:47):
I truly laughed, not loud, but a quiet, intimate sound
I hadn't made in years. It sounded like relief with
a cheap disguise. Ten minutes later, my phone lit up
with a FaceTime from Dad. I responded they were on speaker.
I could see the kitchen behind them, as well as
the fridge calendar, which listed every one's names except mine.
Mom did not waste time. You will apologize to your sister,

(11:11):
she stated, you will fix this. No, I replied, what
do you mean no? Her voice grew higher and then thinner.
I mean no, I answered. I won't be supporting two adults.
I won't be co signing anything. I won't be on
the hook for six figures because you're rewriting reality with feelings.
Dad leaned toward the phone. Watch your tone. My tone

(11:33):
is calm. I told you it's going to stay calm.
Marn barged into the picture. Her mascera streaked in a
way that reminded me of a stage performance. You're so selfish,
she remarked, you're punishing me for being different. I'm not
punishing you. I told you, I'm drawing a line. You've
never believed in me, she confessed. I believed in you

(11:55):
when I paid for your books. I told you when
I covered your car insurance, when I added you to
my phone plan, when I paid your VET bill, when
I sat through three different launch parties for projects you
abandoned by the next Thursday, she let out a breath.
You're keeping score, Mom asked, yes, I replied, because I'm
the one paying the bill. Mom took a different approach.

(12:19):
If you leave now, she added, you abandon this family.
I'll leave on Monday, I replied, for work, not out
of spite. Oh he thinks he's better than us, Marn exclaimed,
teary and dramatic. I stood up straighter and spoke as
if I were on a phone conversation at work, which
is where I learned how to be clear. This is
not about vengeance, I explained, this is about closure. There

(12:43):
is silence, followed by nasty laughing from Dad, who believes
he is the brightest person in the room. Closure from
what he asked, doing your part. From being the plan,
I corrected myself, from being the quiet solution. They all
began at once. I'm with blame Dad with volume, Marn
with accusation, and Dorian with bro syllables from off camera.

(13:06):
I did not raise my voice, I repeated myself. As
a policy, I'm not your guaranteur, I explained, I'm not
your salary and I'm not your emergency fund. Dad said,
pointing at the screen, you will regret this. I already
regret not doing it sooner, I replied. I ended the call.
I set the phone down on the counter like a

(13:27):
hot pan, and looked out the window. Across the street,
a neighbor was watering vegetables. The sun touched the side
of the building, creating a rectangle of light on my floor.
Nothing burst, nothing broke, The city kept moving. After fifteen minutes,
a group text arrived. Mom, we have a family meeting tonight. Me.

(13:48):
I will not be there. Mom, you'll come me No,
Marn says I hate you, Me, I love you. I
will not finance you. Blue bubbles, gray bubbles, blue gray,
and then only gray, long paragraphs about sacrifice, what we

(14:08):
did for you, and how you spoke to your mother.
I turned the phone face down, opened my laptop and
sent my signed acceptance to HR. Then I sent my
notice to my landlord, booked the airport train, and made
a list of boxes to check. It felt like we
were creating a little raft. As the tide turned. It
felt like I was leaving an outgrown room, but I
continued to tidy none the less. That night, I accomplished

(14:31):
what I should have done a year earlier. I opened
every account with someone else's name on it, and began
breaking strings. Telephone plan, remove Marn and mom. The system
alerted me three times that someone might lose service. I
clicked through. Total monthly savings are two hundred and sixteen dollars.
Maron's car insurance is unlinked effective date midnight. The new

(14:54):
premium is back to mine alone. Savings ninety six dollars.
Streaming service update my password disabled the TV in someone
else's living room. Fourteen dollars and ninety nine cents returned
to me, not the money, but the philosophy. My name
was still on the autopay list for utilities, power and
water at my parents residence. I changed the next payment

(15:17):
to manual, remove my card an email address from the
contact information to transfer the account dad subject transfer by Friday,
clear boring true savings. Move my one hundred thirty two thousand,
four hundred dollars emergency fund to a new bank that
I hadn't notified anyone about. Set alarms, froze my credit,
and sought replacement cards. I created a spreadsheet named Exit.

(15:41):
Each row was a rope I put around myself to
keep a ship from drifting that I had no control over.
By the time I finished, my phone had forty three
missed calls, seventeen from Mom, eight from Dad, twelve from Marrin,
and six from no caller ID. I let them stack.
The voicemails arrived in waves, first angry, then imploring, then quiet,
boiling ones in which Mom exhaled into the microphone as

(16:02):
if she wanted me to feel her disappointment over the speaker.
Auntisolda texted me at eleven twenty seven p m. Sweetheart,
can we talk? I stared at it for a long
time without responding. She was the kind one, but in
my family, kindness was often accompanied by a clipboard. I
slept with my phone in a drawer. In the morning,
there were fifty eight missed calls. Group chat has one

(16:25):
hundred forty two unread messages. Dorian had written three paragraphs
discussing masculinity and mutual aid. Marin shared a photo of
Thalia alongside a comment about nerve systems and safety. Mom
shared a meme about ungrateful children. I made coffee, I
packed a suit case, I rolled my socks. I removed
the whiteboard calendar from my wall and wiped it clean.

(16:46):
At midday, Dad arrived at my door. He pounded forcefully,
like a cop from a movie. I let him knock.
He called my name. I let him call. He jiggled
the handle. I drank coffee. He eventually left a minute later.
I received the following text coward. I responded with boundaries,
he sent, do you think words can protect you? I typed, deleted,

(17:08):
and typed again before sending no policies due. Mom kept up.
The drumming band became her new favorite word. Banned from Thanksgiving, Christmas,
and the family chat, as well as being tagged in
every message inside the same family chat. It was like
being told to leave and then having the door pushed
open in your face. At three pm. Mare an email
to contract photo. We need your signature by five, she wrote.

(17:33):
The bank closes at six o'clock. Read the sentence where
it says joint and several liability, I explained, then read
it again. You don't love me, responded the other woman.
I love you enough to not let you drown us both.
I'd written, I love you enough to stop pretending money
as a vibe. She left a voice message for me.
I did not play it. Then it said Thalia misses you.

(17:55):
I looked at it and felt something twist. I didn't
adore that dog. I also cherished my future. Love is
not a repayment plan. I went to my storage unit
and organized three piles keep, donate, and trash. The keep
pile was smaller than I anticipated. It appeared to be
a living organism. On my way home, I passed the
corner pub and noticed Dorian inside on a stool, narrating

(18:18):
a story with enormous hands. He did not see me.
I continued walking back upstairs. I printed out my travel
details and taped it to the inside of my front door.
It made the strategy feel more robust. Train at six
twenty am, Terminal two, Seat twenty one A. My employer
had provided temporary lodging near the office. The photographs appeared

(18:38):
tidy and dull, as if no one would ask for
my login information. My phone fell silent at seven pm,
indicating that the non negotiable family meeting had taken place
without my there. It came back on an hour later, Mom,
this is the final offer. Sign the loan. Keep your
number in the plan. Thanksgiving is at aunt as old

(18:59):
as at three. You can carve me No, Mom, why
are you doing this me? Because the only way to
stop being. The plan is to stop being. The plan
stay quiet for a bit. Then Mom says, we won't
forget this. I say me neither. I took a shower,
I set three alarms. I emailed my friend Ansell the

(19:22):
airport time and my address, just in case. He responded
with a thumbs up, a simple emoji, and proud of
you man. I lay in bed in a silent apartment,
listening to a neighbor's dishwasher hum. I remembered the binder
with tabs and how Mom had pushed it across the
table like fate. I reflected on the forty three missed
calls and the structure of my life when no one
else was involved. It was not yet peaceful, but it

(19:44):
was quiet. When you eventually resist the cacophony, you will
first experience silence. Thanksgiving arrived early for me that year.
It arrived on Monday, seven thirty five a m with
a gray sky above a new city and my breath
fogging up like a cartoon speech bubble. I moved into
the business apartment and learned about food shop hours. I
got a kettle since everyone insisted I needed one, and

(20:05):
a cheap plant because the window looked bare without it.
I set up my business laptop on a small desk
and tacked my bill spreadsheet to one side. It now
contained five lines each including merely my name. The first week,
I awoke expecting the same routine text before I finished
my coffee, small fires in other people's kitchens. Instead, I
received emails regarding shipments and morning meetings that concluded exactly

(20:28):
when they were supposed to. I walked from work down
a canal and counted dogs. I discovered what sound the
crosswalks make here. I cooked for one person and ate
it all. On Wednesday, a screenshot from my credit monitoring
app appeared. New inquiry tried but blocked. I smiled at
my plant and watered it slightly. That night, Marn sent
a photo of a turkey emoji with the words are

(20:51):
you happy. I typed for a while, then erased everything
and sent I hope you find what you're looking for.
I can't fund the search. She didn't respond. Mom sent
a message beginning with I shouldn't say this, and then
said it anyhow I've read it. I didn't respond. The
following day she sent nothing. It felt like a new

(21:11):
holiday on our calendar. Empty box Day. On Thanksgiving Day,
I fixed myself a little platter roasted chicken breast, because
turkeys here appeared to be a commitment, potatoes and green beans.
I faced ansel and held up my plate. He held
up his greasy slice of pizza tradition, he stated. We laughed.

(21:32):
After supper. I opened my notes app and reviewed the
previous list dates, amounts, and the breadcrumb trail of how
a border fades when you go over it. Only this once.
I scrolled to the bottom and added a line, I
refused to co sign chaos. I refuse to be leveraged
by love. I'm not going to ask for aid with neglect.
I refuse to trade peace for access. I will not

(21:53):
apologize for keeping my earnings. I will not be the plan.
I rate it twice. Then I added one more sentence,
the only one that mattered. If I wanted any of
this to stick, I will love you without paying for you.
This was hardly a victory speech. It was a message
to myself. The kind you keep in a folder and
consult when you feel weak, the kind that holds. Whether

(22:14):
the writing is mild, loud, or in all caps, people
believe that closure means slamming the door it is not.
It's a door you ultimately cease keeping open for those
who never intend to walk through it. I have not
been barred from participating in any meaningful activities. I eat everything,
I cook, I say what I want, I earn money,

(22:35):
I save, I sleep. This is not about vengeance. It
never was. It's important not to confuse being needed with
being loved. It is about refusing to be a wallet
with emotions. My name is Silas. I'm thirty one. For
the first time in years, I had control over the
silence in my life. Not the silence of being ignored,

(22:55):
nor the silence of swallowing words so that others could shine,
but the kind that hums steadily, like a low tide
on rock. It seemed both alien and comforting. I had
no idea what the next decade would bring, only that
the life I was creating now had my name on
every line.