I explained my punishing schedule, the financial pressures, and the constant calculations required to stay afloat. Lily listened with growing horror. I had no idea, she whispered.
Mom and dad always just said you were doing fine. Fine is relative, I replied. I’ve worked 60-hour weeks for four years while taking full course loads.
I’ve gone without meals, proper sleep, and any semblance of a social life. But why didn’t you ever say anything, she asked. The question struck me as naively privileged.
Would it have changed anything? Would mom and dad suddenly have decided I was worth investing in too? The conversation marked a turning point in our relationship. As Lily began to recognize the inequality that had shaped our lives, she became my unexpected ally. She started declining expensive parental gifts, explaining she preferred to manage on her own, like her sister.
By January, our weekly study sessions had become a genuine connection. Lily’s thesis was back on track, and she had begun to develop a new appreciation for the discipline and perseverance she’d always lacked. Meanwhile, my own senior project had attracted attention from the university administration.