I’m Ashley. I worked three jobs throughout high school just to get into nursing school. I earned a scholarship, saved every dollar, and finally felt like I was on the path to the life I wanted. Then, my sister got sick. I care about her, but my parents sat me down and told me I needed to put my education on hold to care for her full-time.
My dad said it calmly, like it was a minor request: “School can wait.” But I know it can’t—my scholarship won’t stay if I leave. When I refused, the conversation turned into an ambush. My dad slid an envelope across the table. Inside were notices that they had canceled my phone plan, withdrawn as guarantors for my student housing, and revoked access to the car I used for work and class.
He looked at me almost smugly and said, “Without housing and transportation, you won’t last the semester anyway.” It wasn’t about my sister’s health anymore; it was about forcing me into submission by destroying my independence. I love my sister, but I am not her nurse, and I refused to set my own life on fire to keep everyone else warm. Now, I’m scrambling to find new housing and transportation, determined to prove that my future isn’t something they can just take away.
