Riding on Someone Else’s Back: When Family Expects You to Carry Their Burdens and Blames You for Saying No

On Someone Elses Back

Lucy, listen Youve already got one child, right? So maybe you could look after Emily as well? Youre at home anyway, so whats the difference? suggested Margaret Williams, her tone casual. At least this way, Alice wont be tied down. She can get back to work, get on her feet. Shes really struggling right now

Lucy paused for a moment, forgetting about the salad shed been carefully chopping. Her mother-in-law spoke about children as if they were kittenseasy to manage, no real difference between them. But with kids

Margaret, its not that simple. Jacks only three months old, and Emilys already a year and a half. My little one has colic, never wants to be put down, barely sleeps. And Emily needs constant watching. Shes at that agealways trying to play with the cooker, stick things in sockets, tip things over

Oh, dont be silly! Margaret waved her hand dismissively. My two were about the same age apart. I managed just fine. While youre feeding Jack, you can keep an eye on Emily. Hell stay wherever you put him, hes not running around yet.

Lucy raised her eyebrows and cleared her throat, lips pressed together. Deep down, she was frustrated. Margaret seemed to see her as some sort of property, refusing to do her part. Still, Lucy tried to remain polite.

Margaret, its really not convenient for me. I cant do it.

Lucy, I thought you were kind, family-oriented, willing to help your husbands relatives Margaret frowned. Youre not working, youre not busy, and my son Tom provides for you completely. But Alice

Lucy felt her patience wearing thin. It was time to retreat. There was no point arguing with someone who wanted a free ride.

Sorry, but I need to feed Jack. Could you please finish the potato salad? Lucy asked dryly, heading to the bedroom.

Hmph. Funny, isnt she? When she needs help, everyone should jump in. But when someone else needs a hand, she disappears Margaret grumbled behind her.

Lucy clenched her teeth. It was the opposite of what Margaret claimed. Shed managed to avoid major conflict before, but now her husbands family seemed determined to push her.

A month earlier, AliceLucys sister-in-lawhad divorced her husband. According to Margaret, Mark was always rude, treated Alice like a servant, and recently even shoved her during an argument. Lucy had taken the news calmly, almost indifferently. After all, it wasnt her relationship.

I wouldnt stay with someone who raised a hand to me, she told Margaret flatly.

Exactly! Thats what I told her. Today its just a push, tomorrow she could end up hurt, Margaret agreed. But whats she supposed to live on now, poor thing? Emily doesnt even have a nursery spot yet.

Lucy had felt awkward then, as if something was expected of her.

Well, shes not alone, Lucy said vaguely, meaning Margaret, hoping to end the conversation.

Yes, well all help together.

Now Lucy understood what that talk was about. She was being gently prepared to take on double maternity duty.

If Lucy had been a bit more naïve, she might have agreed. Its hard to say no to someone in a tough spot. Anyone can make a mistake.

But Lucy knew what it was like to look after two children.

When Jack was just a month old, Alice asked Lucy to watch Emily while she went to the doctor. Of course, dragging a toddler to a hospital wasnt ideal.

You never know what she might catch Alice had said.

The hospital trip lasted until evening. All day, Lucy dashed between the two children, praying Emily wouldnt get into trouble. Her house was hardly childproofexposed wires, things left on tables, plugged-in appliances. Thankfully, the worst was a broken plate and scribbles on the wallpaper.

By evening, Lucy was exhausted. Normally, she could nap with Jack during the day, but with Emily around, there was no chance. And the night before had been sleepless, with hourly feeds

But the most upsetting part was when Lucy needed help, she was refused.

Alice, could you pop into the chemist? Ill transfer you the money. Im not feeling well, and Tom wont be home until late

Oh, Lucy, Im sorry, but I dont want to risk it. What if youve got a bug? Its one thing for me, but Emily shouldnt get sick.

At least hang the bag on the door handle, Ill grab it.

An awkward silence followed. It seemed Alice was making excuses.

I would, but my cars broken Sorry, Lucy, I just cant.

Lucy didnt like it, but she held back from judging. A couple of weeks later, Lucys cat fell ill. She needed to get him to the vet urgently, but there was no one to leave Jack with. She asked Alice again. Alice refused. She refused again the next day, when the cat needed a drip.

Thats when Lucy realised: Alice was happy to take, but not to give. Margaret was much the same.

Margaret, meanwhile, didnt give up. Next time, she tried to attack Lucy during a family dinner, hoping Lucy wouldnt refuse in front of everyone.

The worlds become so heartless Margaret lamented at the table. Some people have it easy, while others barely scrape by and lie awake at night worrying

The guests, relaxed after a good meal and wine, probably didnt pay much attention to Margarets words. Or maybe they thought she was talking about Alices ex. But Lucy caught Margarets sharp look and knew exactly who she meant.

Well, you cant argue with that, Lucy replied. But luckily, Alice isnt alone. Ive been thinking about her situation Maybe we could both go back to work, and you could take our maternity leave? Youd be helping both your daughter and me. Id even chip in from my wages.

Lucy fought to keep calm and serious. Alice, whod just been playing the worlds saddest mother, looked shocked. Margaret paled and gripped the edge of the tablecloth.

I I mean Im not as strong as I used to be, she stammered. Two kids would be too much for me. Youd manage better

Tom couldnt take it anymore. He knew about the tension between his wife and mother.

Right, Mum, lets drop it. For good, he said sternly. Just because Lucys younger doesnt mean its easy for her. Shes already exhausted. You managed with us, thank you, but we know our limits. We never agreed to this.

Margaret pursed her lips and poked at her mashed potatoes. She realised shed lost this battle. She couldnt get to Lucy through public opinion or her son.

Six months passed. During that time, Margaret only kept in touch through Tom. She stopped visiting, and honestly, Lucy was relieved. Margaret was never there when she was truly needed.

But Lucy didnt know Margaret had declared a silent war. Margarets birthday was coming up, and Lucy wanted to discuss a present with Tom. You cant show up empty-handed.

Dont rush to buy anything, Tom said. We might not even be welcome.

Really? Lucy raised her eyebrows.

Yeah. Hate to say it, but Youre the villain in our family now, Tom shrugged.

Turns out Alice had found a job. She had no choiceher mums flat was tiny, and living together would be tough. One way or another, she had to earn a living.

Alice got a job at a parcel collection point, with the understanding that her mum would cover for her if needed. Emily had finally got a nursery place, but she was still littlesettling in, always catching colds

Alice didnt hesitate to ask her mum for help. So much so that Margaret spent all her weekends at the collection point. And the shifts werent eight hours, but twelve. Sometimes Margaret even had to skip her main job to help Alice. All her wages went to Alice; Margaret didnt keep a penny.

Eventually, Margaret had enough. She realised helping wasnt so easy after all. Seeing she was being taken advantage of, Margaret stopped covering Alices shifts, blaming her health.

Alice didnt miss a beat. She couldnt see herself as a hard worker, so she went back to her ex-husband. Not out of love or regret, but simply because, for all his faults, he was willing to support her.

Now they were back in their old cycle of shouting, blaming, and rare truces.

You know whats funny? Tom smirked. To the women in my family, youre the bad guy. Mum tells everyone that if that selfish woman hadnt dug her heels in, Alice wouldve got back on her feet and never gone back to that brute.

Lucy sighed and covered her face with her hand. So, she was the scapegoat.

Well, maybe thats for the best, she said at last. When someone leaves, the burden is lighter for those who remain. Your mum and sister do love to climb onto someone elses back

Tom just shrugged. Lucy didnt feel relieved by the news, but she was glad she and Tom had learned to say no in time. Sometimes, protecting your own little world means standing firm, even if others dont understand. In the end, its better to set boundaries than lose yourself trying to please everyone.

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Riding on Someone Else’s Back: When Family Expects You to Carry Their Burdens and Blames You for Saying No
At It Again, Are You? I’m the Man of This House—I’ll Decide Who Moves In, Not You. Careful, Or You Might Be the One Moving Out… “Really? You?” Ivan Smirked—”Remember Who Actually Owns This Place?” *** It Was Another Rough Morning at Their Flat, Not That Mornings Were Ever Easy Here. The Sun Mockingly Beamed Through the Window, But Ivan’s Room Remained Dim—Probably Because He Hadn’t Slept a Wink. Grumpy and Exhausted, He Tossed and Turned All Night, Then Got Up to Do Chores, and as Soon as He Settled into Bed Again… “Ivan!” Came the Thunderous Roar from the Hallway. “Where are you? Get out here! Are you still sleeping?” Ivan groaned in despair, burying his head beneath the pillow. Here we go again. His father, Michael Stevenson—just plain Mike—was up to his usual morning antics. And it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. “Getting ready for work, Dad,” Ivan croaked, prying his eyelids open. “I’m going to be late.” Truthfully, he could have enjoyed another hour lounging around. He desperately needed the rest. “What do you mean, work?” Mike was already looming in Ivan’s doorway, seeming much taller than his average height. “You’re not getting ready at all, just lazing about… Get up already! I need money!” Ivan propped himself up on an elbow. Here we go—money. The classic. “What for?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “You’re acting like a child,” Mike sighed theatrically, “Were you born yesterday? Need me to spell it out? I’m taking Lucy out for dinner. Somewhere nice. Got to impress her, you know. Can’t just take her for a walk—she’s not easily wowed.” “She”—meaning, of course, that Lucy loved spending other people’s money; without it, Mike had no chance. His father had lost all sense of balance lately. Everything he earned disappeared into “grand gestures,” and then he turned to Ivan with endless requests—more often, demands. “Dad, I’m short myself,” Ivan tried his usual negotiation tactic for the hundredth time. “Only just enough for this week’s bus fare and lunch. Besides, we had to replace the plumbing, remember?” Ivan was seriously out of pocket—and not particularly keen to finance his father’s love life. “Short?!” Mike raised his brows, as if Ivan was asking him for a handout. “How can you be short? Find some. This isn’t for anybody—this is for your old man! Anyway…” he rifled through Ivan’s wallet, “I’m the head of this house! Your money’s my money! Got it? You’ll do as I say – and I’ll take what I need.” Naturally, the wallet was empty. Ivan’s remaining wages were safely on his card. “Where’s the cash? I asked where’s my money in my own flat?!” That’s when Ivan smirked. “Are you sure this is your flat, Dad? Certain?” Mike paused his looting, leaving the wallet and the bag alone. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he mumbled. “It means you know as well as I do,” Ivan said, sitting up on the bed. “It was always Grandma Anne’s flat—and she left it to me. She knew what her son was like with money, that you couldn’t be trusted. You’d lose the lot…” Grandma Anne was a shrewd woman. She’d seen her son Mike stumble into financial disasters more than once, thanks to his carefree spending. When he sold her gifted car and gambled away the proceeds in under a week, Ivan had already come of age and was able to help his dad out of debt. That’s when Grandma took precautions and put the flat in Ivan’s name. On paper and in practice, Ivan was the owner—he paid for everything from groceries to the very slippers on Mike’s feet. Whereas Mike, like a pampered teenager, only showed up to eat, sleep, and ask for more. “So, Dad,” Ivan stood up, feeling, for the first time, like anything but a kid. “Here, I call the shots. My money is my money. And if you want to wine and dine Lucy, you’d better find another way.” Mike tried to reply, but the words got stuck. Rage turned to a low hiss. “I’ll remember this…” “Do. Remember it when you’re eating my food—since you never buy any yourself. Make sure you do.” It wasn’t easy. Ivan loved his dad, but he couldn’t keep living life as his servant. He was the owner here. If Dad didn’t like it, no one was forcing him to stay. That evening ended with more of Mike’s complaints. Coming home from work, Ivan found the flat filled with people. Mike, of course, took the best spot, half-drunk among his mates—with Lucy chattering away, never mind the double meanings. “And here’s my sonny boy!” Mike proclaimed as Ivan walked in. “He’s finally graced us! Maybe his conscience is kicking in! Look here, fellas! My own flesh and blood—doesn’t give his dad the time of day, hides his money, tries to kick me out, thinks he owns the place!” Ivan paused in the kitchen doorway. He didn’t feel angry—just bone-tired. “Dad,” he said, “What’s with the circus? You can put on a show all you want, but I’m not letting your mates hang out here. Please leave. I’ve got work early tomorrow.” The guests fidgeted, some stood up, but Mike stopped them with a gesture: “What?” he snarled. “You’re chucking my friends out? Out of my own house? Bit soon to be throwing your weight around, isn’t it?” But as far as Ivan was concerned, it wasn’t too soon at all. “It’s my house, Dad,” Ivan corrected him, and everyone seemed to shrink. “And yes, I’m asking you all to leave. You can stay if you like, but your mates? No chance.” Everyone turned to Ivan. Lucy clung to Mike, not sure whether to leave or brazen it out. The other men, who’d been laughing, now wore sour faces. “Come on, lads,” muttered one, getting up. “Yeah, Mike, that’s enough for tonight,” added another. “Time to call it.” Seeing his company falling away, Mike hissed through his teeth: “You’ve made me a laughing-stock! Your own father!” “Well, maybe a father who still needs teaching hasn’t really grown up.” “We’ll see how cocky you are later!” Ivan ignored him and retreated to his room, shutting the door and crawling into bed. Tomorrow would only be worse—Dad would throw another tantrum, or round up his crowd again. But that was tomorrow. Tonight, Ivan just wanted to sleep. The next morning was bright again, but Ivan wasn’t in the mood for sunshine. Dad was sulking—silent, ghosting about the flat. Ivan, realizing he might have been too harsh in front of the guests, decided to make peace. “Dad,” he said as Mike passed his door. Mike stopped without turning. “I’m sorry,” said Ivan. “I got carried away last night, especially in front of your mates. I didn’t mean to embarrass you—I was just tired after work and wanted some peace. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you in public.” Then Ivan took out his wallet. “Here,” he said, holding out money. “For dinner. Take Lucy out, alright?” Mike finally turned around. “Yeah? You serious?” he beamed. “Dead serious,” Ivan nodded. Mike grabbed the cash. “Brilliant! Knew you’d see sense!” And off he went, no doubt to get ready for his date. Ivan watched him go, feeling empty. He’d given his dad money. Peace restored. But it didn’t feel right. All day, one question gnawed at Ivan: the flat. He no longer wanted to live with a fifty-something man acting like a teenager. Move out? Ridiculous—the flat was his; why pay rent elsewhere? But could he really kick his dad out? It felt unthinkable—it was still his dad, after all. Where would Mike go? No answer. Weary, Ivan napped as the evening wore in. Last night’s “circus” had done him in. Mike was out late with Lucy, and when they returned… “Ivan? You up?” Mike entered in his best clothes. “We won’t be long.” Lucy poked her head in too. “Hello,” Ivan sat up, nerves jangling. “Hi, Ivan darling,” Lucy purred. “And… So, we talked everything over tonight—she’s moving in with us!” Mike blurted out. Ivan jumped up. “What? No one’s moving in here!” Mike froze, stunned by Ivan’s reaction—he thought the morning’s apology meant everything else would slide. “At it again?! I’m the man of this house—I’ll decide who moves in, not you! Careful, or you might be the one moving out…” “You?” Ivan smirked, “Remember whose name is on the deeds?” “I couldn’t care less about your papers!” Mike shouted, though remembering Lucy, softened his tone. “Ivan, come on—where else would we meet? We want to live together, it’s normal for a man to bring his lady home…” “No,” said Ivan flatly. “And if you don’t quit it, there’ll be nobody left here but me.” Mike shook with rage. Deep down, what really ate at him was that his own son, in front of his new woman, dared to set the rules. “Fine,” he spat, “Let’s see who wins this one.” *** Next evening brought shock. Coming home from work, Ivan saw something scattered beneath the windows—his clothes, books, and belongings, strewn on the pavement and bench below. “What the—” he muttered, rushing over. He raced upstairs. The door was locked, and his key didn’t fit. Mike had changed the locks. “Dad!” Ivan shouted, banging. “Open up!” “Get lost!” Mike barked from inside. “This is my house! I don’t care what the documents say! Your things are outside!” “I’ll break down the door!” “Go ahead and try!” Ivan didn’t linger by the steel door; he realized Mike wouldn’t open. Did he really think he’d take over by force? Ivan could have called the police, but doubted they’d relish prying a stubborn old man out of his son’s flat at night. In any case, that battle could wait till morning. First, he had to rescue his stuff. He hurried outside, finding some of his clothes already being collected by a neighbor—Katie, the girl from the third stairwell. She’d come to help. “Are you alright?” she asked, gently lifting his favorite hoodie. “Why did he do this?” “He’s lost it,” said Ivan simply, grabbing his jeans. “I told him no more friends over—he didn’t like that. And the flat’s mine. It’s a long story.” “Oh, Ivan…” she shook her head. “You can stay at ours if you like—we’ve got a spare room.” “Thanks, Katie,” Ivan smiled. “I might take you up on that. I can’t face dragging all this to a hotel, and I plan to be back soon anyway…” Staying with Katie and her mum was strange, but actually lovely. For the first time in ages, Ivan felt safe: chatting over evening tea, swapping stories, nobody lurking at night or demanding money… The next morning, as soon as Mike and Lucy left (Ivan watched from Katie’s window), Ivan hurried over and brought his locksmith. “Here,” Ivan handed him his passport and title deeds. “Break the locks. This is my flat.” The locksmith made quick work of it. Within minutes, Ivan was home. “Thanks,” he said. “Please fit new locks straight away.” While the locksmith worked, Ivan wasted no time gathering up his dad’s and Lucy’s things—he didn’t throw them out the window as Mike had, though he could have. He just packed everything nicely into bags and set it all out on the landing. Just then, as Ivan came back in, someone tried the lock from outside. “What the… locked out? The key won’t work… They changed the locks!! Ivan, are you in there?” “Don’t bother knocking,” Ivan called out loud enough to be heard. “You’re not getting the new keys.” “You kicked me out?!” “What did you expect?” Ivan replied. “Open the door! My things are inside!” Lucy shrieked. “They’re on the landing,” Ivan replied, stepping out. “Turn around, you’ll see them. I’m not so petty as to keep your things or throw them away like you did with mine.” Mike tried to force his way back in, but Ivan—though shorter—stood his ground in the doorway. “Go home, Dad,” he said. “Take Lucy. I warned you: keep this up, and there’ll be no one left here but me. But after trying to throw me out without warning—pulling a stunt like that? No way.” Mike, realizing he’d lost, hissed, “I’ll see you in court!” But Ivan knew there’d be no court case. He’d just made it clear—the games were over. That evening, as Ivan started his third load of laundry—everything had to be washed after being outside—Katie popped in with a homemade cake. “Hey,” she smiled. “Thought I’d cheer you up. Mind if I come in?” “Sure.” “I guess the talk with your dad didn’t go well…” “Oh, I don’t know,” Ivan grinned. “Dad’s decided to move out.” “On his own?” “Absolutely,” Ivan said, smiling. Then he told her the whole story. “Well, I think I’d have chucked their suitcases from the window,” Katie teased. “You handled it pretty well.” And somehow, the two of them felt just right together.