I was born and raised in New York City. A place of endless opportunities, but none of them were handed to me on a silver platter. My wife and I built our lives from the ground up—working day and night, sacrificing sleep, money, and even our health just to have a home, a career, and financial stability. No one helped us. No one made it easier for us.
My parents, on the other hand, come from a small town in rural Pennsylvania. They lived their entire lives in that quiet, uneventful place, never really striving for more. But now, as old age creeps up on them, they suddenly remember I exist. They beg me to take them in, to let them move in with my family. They always dreamed of living in a big city, walking through Central Park, enjoying the vibrant energy of urban life. But they never did anything to make that dream a reality. And now, they expect me to be the one to fulfill it.
We’ve been going back and forth on this topic for months. They believe they have the right to just pack their things and move in with us. But I refuse. They never supported me—not financially, not emotionally, not in any way. When I was in college, struggling to make ends meet, surviving on a tiny scholarship and working exhausting night shifts just to afford food, they never once asked if I needed help. They knew about my situation. They watched as I starved some days, yet they did nothing.
So tell me—why should I help them now? They never invested in me, so what makes them think they’re entitled to anything from me? What debt do I owe them?
On top of that, they never accepted my wife. From the moment we got married, they made it clear that they didn’t approve of her. They insulted her, belittled her, whispered behind my back that she was “not good enough” for me. They never acknowledged our marriage, never tried to build a relationship with her, and never showed any interest in our kids. That is the second reason they will never live under my roof.
If they move in, it will become my responsibility to take care of them. But my life is already full. I have a demanding job, a home to manage, children to raise. Where exactly am I supposed to find the time and energy to take care of aging parents who never cared for me? Where does my life fit into all of this? Why is it always the children who are expected to sacrifice everything for their parents, and never the other way around?
Some will call me cold-hearted. Some will say I owe them gratitude for bringing me into this world. But I never asked to be born. That was their choice, not mine. If they had planned for their future, they wouldn’t need me now. But they didn’t. They made no effort to secure their own well-being, and now they want to dump the burden on me. Well, I won’t let that happen.
My wife fully supports me. She has the same story. Her parents, too, threw her out of the house at eighteen, forcing her to fend for herself. She worked tirelessly just to survive, clawing her way to a better life. And now that she has one, her parents suddenly remember she exists.
But we won’t sacrifice our happiness for people who only remember us when they need something. Life is simple—if you never gave, don’t expect to receive.
