Family Excluded Me From The Christmas Party At My Sister’s Request. I Changed The Locks And Threw…

 

 

 

 

 Hi, I’m Sarah. Today I’m going to read you the story of Michelle, which is titled like this. My family excluded me from the Christmas party at my sister’s request. You’re not welcome here. Spend Christmas alone. So, I changed the locks and threw her and her husband’s things out of my apartment while they were enjoying Christmas dinner.

 The next morning, they called me without pause. Well, let’s go. I was already in my pajamas, about to pull back the covers on my bed when my phone started buzzing on the nightstand. The caller ID showed my younger sister’s name, Sarah. I almost didn’t answer because it was nearly 11 p.m. But knowing her, she’d just keep calling until I picked up.

Hey, Sarah, what’s Michelle? Oh my god, I’m so glad you answered. I have the most amazing news ever. Her voice was practically vibrating with excitement through the speaker. I sat down on the edge of my bed, already feeling tired. Sarah, it’s really late and I have work tomorrow.

 Can we talk about this? No, no, no. You have to hear this right now. This is going to change everything for our entire family. She was talking so fast I could barely keep up. I’ve been working on this business idea for weeks now, and I finally figured out all the details. We’re all going to be rich, Michelle. Like seriously rich.

 I rubbed my temples. At 34, I’d learned to be skeptical when someone started talking about get-richqu schemes, especially family members. Sarah, slow down. What exactly are you talking about? Okay. Okay. So, you know how everyone’s always complaining about how expensive everything is these days? Well, I figured out a way to solve that problem while making tons of money at the same time. It’s brilliant.

 I could hear her pacing around her apartment. My apartment, actually, the one I’d been letting her and her husband live in for free for the past 3 years. The floorboards always creaked in the same spots. I’m going to start a subscription service, she continued, where people pay a monthly fee and get discounted products delivered to their door.

 But here’s the genius part. I’m going to partner with local businesses to provide the products so everyone wins. I was quiet for a moment trying to process what she just said. In my 10 years working for a major consulting firm, I’d seen dozens of similar business models come and go. Most of them failed within the first year.

 Sarah, that sounds like every other subscription box service that already exists. The market is completely saturated, but mine will be different. I’m going to focus on local businesses instead of big corporations. People want to support local. I could already see the problems with her plan. The logistics alone would be a nightmare.

 Coordinating with multiple small businesses, managing inventory, handling customer service complaints. And that was assuming she could even get enough local businesses to participate. Okay. But why are you calling me about this at 11:00 at night? There was a pause. I could hear her breathing on the other end of the line. Well, the thing is, I need a little bit of startup capital to get things going.

Here it comes. I thought, how much is a little bit? Just $100,000. I actually choked. Like, literally choked on my own saliva. What did you just say? $100,000. I know it sounds like a lot, but think about it as an investment. When the business takes off, you’ll get your money back, plus interest. I stood up and started pacing around my own bedroom, trying to keep my voice calm.

Sarah, why on earth would I give you $100,000 for a business that has maybe a 5% chance of succeeding? Because you’re wealthy, she shot back, and I could hear the irritation creeping into her voice. You have a house and that apartment, and you make good money at your job. A 10000,000 is nothing to you.

 It was true that I was financially comfortable. I’d worked hard to get where I was. Saving money, making smart investments, buying real estate, but $100,000 wasn’t pocket change. Not even for me. And definitely not for a business venture that I could see failing from a mile away. Sarah, listen to me.

 I’ve been working in business development for over 10 years. I’ve seen hundreds of business plans, and I can tell you right now that yours won’t work. You’d be lucky if you lasted 6 months before running out of money. The line went quiet again. I could hear her husband’s voice in the background, probably asking what was wrong. You know what, Michelle? I thought you’d be supportive.

 I thought you’d want to help your family succeed. I am trying to help you by saving you from making a huge mistake. If you want business experience, start small. use your own money or mom and dad’s if they’re willing to invest in your dream. Fine, whatever. I guess I was wrong about you. And then she hung up just like that. No goodbye, no talk to you later. Nothing.

I stared at my phone for a minute, shaking my head. I knew Sarah could be dramatic, but this seemed excessive even for her. I plugged my phone into the charger and finally got into bed, thinking the whole thing was over. Sarah would cool off in a day or two and everything would go back to normal. She’d probably even thank me later for talking her out of a bad business decision.

 I woke up the next morning feeling pretty good about myself. I’d grabbed a cup of coffee and was checking my emails when my phone rang. Mom’s name popped up on the screen, which was unusual since she rarely called before noon. Hi, Mom. What’s up? Michelle and Johnson, I need to talk to you right now.

 Her voice had that stern tone she used when I was in trouble as a kid. My stomach dropped. What’s wrong? What’s wrong is that your sister called me last night crying because you refused to help her with some small request she made. Small request. I nearly spit out my coffee. Mom, she asked me for $100,000. That’s not exactly small change. $100,000 is nothing for someone in your position.

 You have two properties and a good job. Sarah is just trying to better herself and support her family. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Mom, do you even know what her business idea is? It’s a subscription box service in an oversaturated market. The failure rate for these businesses is enormous. I’d basically be throwing money away.

 So, what if it fails? Mom’s voice got sharper. At least Sarah would gain some valuable entrepreneurial experience. Isn’t that worth supporting your sister? I had to sit down. Are you seriously suggesting I should give her $100,000 just so she can learn from failing? I’m suggesting you should support your family instead of being selfish with your money.

 Selfish? I was getting angry now, Mom. I work 60our weeks to earn that money. I don’t just find it lying around on the street. And if Sarah wants entrepreneurial experience, why doesn’t she use her own money? Were yours and dad’s? There was a long pause. You know what your problem is, Michelle. You don’t understand what family means.

 Family members are supposed to help each other out, not make excuses. I was so shocked I couldn’t even respond for a moment. Here I was letting Sarah and her husband live rentree in my apartment for 3 years. I’d been helping my parents financially whenever they needed it. I paid for Sarah’s wedding, taken everyone on vacation, covered medical bills, and now I was being called selfish for not wanting to flush $100,000 down the toilet.

 Mom, I’ve been helping this family for years. If Sarah wants to start a business, she needs to do her homework first. She needs a real business plan, market research, financial projections. Not just give me money and trust me. I can’t believe how cold you’ve become, Michelle. Your father and I raised you better than this. You raised me to work hard and be responsible with money.

 That’s exactly what I’m doing. We’ll see about that. Mom’s voice was ice cold now. Maybe someday you’ll understand what you’ve lost by turning your back on family. And then she hung up just like Sarah had the night before. I sat there staring at my phone, feeling like I’d entered some kind of alternate universe. Over the next few weeks, I kept expecting Sarah to call and apologize, but my phone stayed silent.

 This was weird because Sarah usually called me at least twice a week. Now nothing. Weeks turned into months. I settled into a routine without the usual family drama. Work was going well and I was actually enjoying the peace and quiet. But as autumn turned into winter, I started thinking about Christmas. I began shopping early, buying expensive gifts for everyone, a cashmere scarf for mom, nice whiskey for dad, kitchen gadgets for Sarah and Tom.

I always bought thoughtful gifts, even though I usually got something cheap in return. Three months had passed since the phone call incident, and I figured everyone would have cooled off by Christmas. Family arguments never lasted through the holidays in our house. Then, exactly one week before Christmas, Mom called again.

 Michelle, I need to tell you something about Christmas. Oh, good. I was wondering what time you wanted me to come over. I have all the gifts ready. That’s just it. You’re not invited this year. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. What do you mean I’m not invited? Sarah doesn’t want you there. She says she can’t stand to look at you after what you did to her.

 She demanded that we not invite you and your father and I agreed. Are you kidding me? You’re choosing Sarah over me? We’re not choosing anyone. You’re the one who chose to hurt your sister when she needed your support. This is just the consequence of your actions. When you spend Christmas alone, maybe you’ll finally understand what family means.

 

 

 

 

The line went dead. I sat there in shock, staring at my phone. They were actually going to exclude me from Christmas because I wouldn’t fund Sarah’s guaranteed failure of a business. I immediately started calling Sarah. It went straight to voicemail. I called again. Same thing. I left three messages, but she never called back.

Finally, I decided to drive over to my apartment where she and Tom lived. I needed to talk to her face to face and figure out what the hell was going on. I knocked on the door. Sarah, it’s me. We need to talk. Go away, Michelle. I don’t want to see you. Sarah, please just open the door. Let’s work this out.

There’s nothing to work out. You made your choice when you refused to help me. I don’t consider you my sister anymore. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Sarah, you’re being ridiculous. Open the door. No, leave me alone and don’t come back. I stood there for another 10 minutes, knocking and pleading, but she wouldn’t budge.

 Finally, I gave up and drove home, my head spinning with disbelief and anger. When I got home, I poured myself a large glass of wine and sat in my living room trying to process what had just happened. The expensive Christmas gifts I bought were sitting wrapped under my tree, mocking me. A cashmere scarf for the mother who’ just disinvited me from Christmas.

 kitchen gadgets for the sister who wouldn’t even open the door to talk to me. I thought about all the years I’d been supporting this family. Three years of letting Sarah and Tom live rentree in my apartment. That was worth at least $2,000 a month in rent, maybe more. That was already over $70,000 I’d given them, just in free housing.

 Then there were all the other things over the years. I paid for Sarah’s entire wedding because she and Tom were broke. I’d taken the whole family on vacation to Hawaii two years ago. I’d covered mom’s medical bills when she needed that expensive dental work. I’d helped dad when his car broke down and he couldn’t afford repairs.

 And this was how they repaid me by ganging up on me and cutting me out of the family because I wouldn’t enable Sarah’s latest get-richqu scheme. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I wasn’t just hurt anymore. I was furious. How dare they treat me like this after everything I’d done for them? How dare Sarah act like she was the victim when she’d been living off my generosity for years? I finished my wine and made a decision.

 If they wanted to exclude me from the family, then fine. But I wasn’t going to keep being their personal ATM while they treated me like garbage. The next morning, I drove to the mall and returned every single Christmas gift I bought. The store clerks looked at me strangely as I hauled bag after bag of expensive presents to the return counter, but I didn’t care.

 I got back almost $800, money I’d rather keep than waste on people who clearly didn’t appreciate anything I did for them. Then I started planning. I had an idea brewing, but I needed to wait until Christmas Day to put it into action. I wanted to make sure Sarah and Tom were definitely out of the apartment when I made my move. The next few days crawled by.

 I kept my phone on silent because I didn’t want to risk answering if any of them called. They didn’t anyway. Not even a text message asking how I was doing or whether I’d changed my mind about funding Sarah’s stupid business. Finally, Christmas Eve arrived. I spent it quietly at home ordering Chinese takeout and watching Netflix.

 It felt weird not running around making last minute preparations for a big family dinner, but also kind of peaceful. No stress, no drama, no having to pretend everything was fine while people treated me like dirt. On Christmas morning, I slept in until 10:00. When I finally got up, I made myself a nice breakfast and checked Sarah’s social media accounts.

 Sure enough, there she was posting photos from mom and dad’s house. The timestamp showed the pictures were taken just 30 minutes ago. There was a caption that made my blood boil. Spending Christmas morning with the people who really matter. Sometimes you have to cut toxic people out of your life to make room for happiness. Toxic people.

 I was toxic for not funding her ridiculous business idea. The sheer audacity of it took my breath away. But her post also confirmed what I needed to know. She and Tom were definitely at my parents’ house. probably planning to stay there most of the day, which meant my apartment was empty. I grabbed my keys and drove over there.

 I still had my spare key, of course, since it was my property. I let myself in and looked around at the mess they’d made of my nice apartment. There were dirty dishes piled up in the sink, clothes scattered everywhere, and the carpet looked like it hadn’t been vacuumed in months. I started in the bedroom, methodically packing up all of Sarah and Tom’s belongings.

 Clothes, books, toiletries, electronics, everything that belonged to them went into boxes and suitcases. It took me almost 2 hours to get everything packed up. Then I called the storage facility I’d looked up earlier. Luckily, they were open even on Christmas day, probably because people sometimes needed to store things during family emergencies.

I paid for a unit and drove all their stuff over there, making three trips back and forth. While I was making the final trip, I called the locksmith I’d contacted a few days earlier. He’d agreed to work on Christmas for double his normal rate, which was fine with me. By the time I got back from the storage facility, he was already waiting outside the apartment building.

 It took him about 40 minutes to change both locks, the deadbolt, and the handle. He handed me the new keys and wished me a merry Christmas before driving away. I stood in the apartment for a few minutes, enjoying the silence and the cleanliness now that all their junk was gone. Then I went home to enjoy my Christmas evening.

I ordered dinner from my favorite restaurant, the fancy Italian place that delivers even on holidays. I opened a bottle of champagne I’d been saving for a special occasion. I put on some good music and called a few of my friends to wish them merry Christmas. None of them were family, but they were people who actually cared about me and treated me with respect.

 As I sat in my living room with my champagne and gourmet pasta, I realized I was having the best Christmas I’d had in years. No family drama, no walking on eggshells, no pretending to be grateful for thoughtless gifts while giving expensive ones in return. just peace, quiet, and the satisfaction of knowing I’d finally stood up for myself.

I watched a couple of good movies, video chatted with my college roommate, who lives in California now, and went to bed feeling better than I had in months. I woke up late the next morning, made myself coffee, and puttered around the house doing some long overdue organizing. It was almost noon when my phone started ringing.

 First it was Sarah, then Tom, then mom, then dad. The calls kept coming one after another, and I knew exactly what they discovered. I smiled and turned my phone to silent. Let them figure out what happened. Let them deal with the consequences of their actions. I was done being their doormat, and this was just the beginning.

 The phone calls kept coming for about 2 hours. I could see the anger building with each missed call. The voicemail started polite, but quickly turned frantic and then furious. Finally, around 2:00, my doorbell rang. I looked out the window and saw all four of them standing on my front porch looking like an angry mob.

 Mom was clutching her purse tightly. Dad had his arms crossed, and Sarah looked like she was ready to explode. Tom just looked confused and upset. I took a deep breath and opened the door. They pushed past me into my living room without even being invited in. “What the hell did you do?” Sarah screamed at me, her face red with rage. The locks are changed.

 You can’t just kick us out like that. Actually, I can, I said calmly. It’s my apartment. Mom stepped forward, tears in her eyes. Michelle, honey, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. We didn’t mean to hurt your feelings about Christmas. We were just trying to give Sarah some space to cool down.

 A misunderstanding? I looked at her in disbelief. You told me I was toxic and that I’d understand what family means when I spent Christmas alone. That didn’t sound like a misunderstanding to me. Dad finally spoke up. Look, maybe we all said things we didn’t mean. But you can’t just throw your sister out on the street.

 Where are they supposed to live? That’s not my problem anymore, I replied. You all made it very clear last week that I’m not part of this family. So, why should strangers be living in my apartment rentree? Sarah’s mouth fell open. Strangers? We’re not strangers, you psycho. We’re your family. No, you’re not. I kept my voice steady and cold.

Family doesn’t exclude each other from Christmas over money. Family doesn’t call each other toxic for making responsible financial decisions. Family doesn’t refuse to even talk to each other over a business disagreement. Tom finally found his voice, Michelle. We’ve been living there for 3 years. We can’t just find a new place overnight.

 

 

 

 

Can’t we work something out? You should have thought about that before you decided to punish me for not funding your wife’s guaranteed business failure. Sarah exploded again. It’s not guaranteed to fail. You don’t know everything. I almost laughed. Sarah, you’ve never run a business in your life.

 You’ve never even had a job that lasted more than 2 years. You have no business plan, no market research, no financial projections, and no understanding of how subscription box services actually work. But you want me to give you $100,000 based on your gut feeling? You’re supposed to support your family. I have been supporting this family for years now.

 I was getting angry, too. I let you live rentree in my apartment for 3 years. Do you know how much money that is? Over $70,000. I paid for your entire wedding. I took all of you on vacation to Hawaii. I paid mom’s medical bills, dad’s car repairs, and God knows what else over the years. And this is how you thank me. Mom was crying now.

 We didn’t realize you were keeping track of all that. I wasn’t keeping track, Mom. I was just helping my family because I thought that’s what you do. But apparently none of that matters because I won’t throw away another h 100red,000 on Sarah’s fantasy business. It’s not a fantasy. Sarah screamed. Yes, it is.

 And you know what proves it? The fact that you can’t even think two steps ahead. You decided to get revenge on me by excluding me from Christmas, but you never considered that I might respond by taking back my apartment. That’s exactly why you’ll never succeed in business. You don’t think through the consequences of your actions.

 Sarah stared at me, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Where are our things?” Tom asked quietly. I walked over to my desk and wrote down the storage unit address and number on a piece of paper. Everything’s there. I paid for one month of storage. After that, it’s your problem. You can’t just do this to us. Sarah was crying now.

We’re used to living there. We don’t have money for rent. Then maybe you should get jobs and start acting like adults instead of mooching off your sister. Dad stepped forward. Michelle, this has gone far enough. You’re being cruel. I’m being cruel. I stared at him. I’m the one who’s been supporting this family financially for years while working my ass off at a demanding job.

I’m the one who got excluded from Christmas for making a responsible decision. I’m the one who got called toxic by my own sister, but I’m the cruel one. The room went quiet. Mom was still crying. Sarah was wiping her nose with her sleeve. And dad looked uncomfortable. Look, Mom said finally. Maybe we can all just sit down and talk about this like adults.

 Work something out. No, I said firmly. There’s nothing to work out. You all made your choice when you decided I wasn’t family anymore. So now I’m making mine. I’m done with all of you. You don’t mean that. Dad said, “I absolutely mean it. From now on, I want no contact with any of you. No phone calls, no text messages, no surprise visits.

 I’m cutting off all communication and all financial support. You’re on your own.” Michelle, please. Mom begged. We’re sorry. We made a mistake. Yes, you did. And now you get to live with the consequences. I walked to my front door and opened it. I want all of you to leave my house now and don’t come back. They stood there for a moment looking shell shocked.

 Then dad took mom’s arm and started walking toward the door. Tom followed them looking defeated. Sarah stopped in front of me. “I hate you,” she whispered. “Good,” I replied. “That makes two of us.” After they left, I locked the door and leaned against it, feeling emotionally drained, but also relieved. It was finally over.

 Over the next few weeks, they kept trying to contact me. Phone calls, text messages, emails, even a few more visits to my house that I ignored. Mom tried the guilt trip approach. Dad tried being reasonable, and Sarah alternated between apologizing and threatening me. Tom mostly just complained about how expensive it was to rent an apartment.

Eventually, they gave up. Through some mutual relatives, I heard that Sarah and Tom had found a small apartment across town and were struggling to pay the rent. Mom and dad were apparently telling everyone who’d listened about Mike’s selfishness and heartlessness, but they conveniently left out the part about excluding me from Christmas over a business loan.

 As for me, I rented my apartment to a nice young couple who pay their rent on time and take good care of the place. I’m making good money from the rental income, and my life is peaceful and dramaree for the first time in years. Do I miss my family? Sometimes, but then I remember how they treated me, and the feeling passes.

 Maybe someday we’ll reconcile, but it won’t be anytime soon. The wound they inflicted is too deep, and I’m not ready to forgive them yet. For now, I’m perfectly happy living my life without their constant demands and drama. Some people might call that selfish, but I call it self-preservation.