During a weekend visit home from university, my relationship with my parents and siblings changed forever. The moment itself was innocuous, marked simply by my younger sister hopping out the front door of the family home in Devon and announcing she was going for a driving lesson.
“But how do you pay for it?” I replied. “You’re still doing your A-levels and you don’t even have a job!”
She replied haughtily that our parents had paid cash for driving lessons – knowing full well that they had told me when I was 17 that they could not afford to pay for me to take the driving lessons.
This began a three-decade period of financial favoritism in which my mom and dad, whom I love very much, continually gave large sums of money to my sister, brother and their children, while my two children and I received nothing.
Since that day, my parents have paid for cars, insurance, down payments on houses and even exotic vacations for my siblings, who are now in their late 40s and still live in our hometown, while I am now 53 and have called London home since graduating.
This anonymous author admits that financial favoritism has shaped her relationship with her parents, now both 81, and her siblings (file image).
Every time you max out your credit card debt, guess who’s been paying off the balance. Are your utilities a little too high? Just ask Mom and Dad.
When their own children came along – they both have two, now in their twenties, just like my children – our parents funded strollers, then school uniforms, driving lessons, first cars, college fees, laptops and cell phones. They even paid for my brother’s legal fees when he went through a costly divorce.
The list is endless; it amounts to several hundred thousand pounds, all paid for out of our parents’ savings – and those are just the things I know about.
Financial favoritism shaped my relationship with my parents, who are now both 81 years old, and my siblings.
But it’s not about the money – although it would certainly have come in handy over the years. No, it’s the obvious questions that arise: Do my parents love my siblings more than me? And if so, why?
The only plausible explanation I can think of is that I am somehow being “punished” for being the one who broke away from the herd to build a successful career as a human resources manager in the City.
Until the day my sister dropped the bombshell about the driving lesson, our parents really did treat us equally.
Gifts, clothes and treats were always distributed fairly. Until I, the eldest child, left home to go to university. Suddenly and profoundly, any semblance of justice was abolished.
Perhaps the most painful example of financial favoritism was when I got married in France. Mum and Dad didn’t come because they said they couldn’t afford it – they made a big secret of their money back then – which broke my heart.
I offered to cover the costs for both of them, but they replied that they would never attend a wedding abroad, not even that of their own child, because it was not traditional.
Seven years later, my sister also got married in France and – you guessed it – my parents went to the wedding! When I confronted them and told them how hurt I was, my father said nothing and my mother simply refused to talk about it.
I try very hard not to tell my parents how I feel about this issue. Upsetting them and creating a rift between them that may not heal by the time they die is a risk I don’t want to take. With my siblings, however, it’s a different story.
It all came to a head five years ago when my brother casually mentioned on the phone that Mum and Dad had paid off his £5,000 credit card balance.
“Enough! This has to stop!” I said to him. “Your expectations of Mom and Dad are simply not fair.”
The anonymous author says her siblings are middle-aged, have respectable careers and should not wait “with their heads bowed” for handouts from their elderly parents.
Unfazed, he replied: “It’s their money, they can do whatever they want with it. They are miles away from it, they lack nothing.”
Granted, my husband, who works in real estate, and I make good money and we live a nice lifestyle, but my siblings have respectable careers of their own in education and hospitality.
And, for heaven’s sake, they are already middle-aged. They should not be begging for alms from their elderly parents with their hats raised.
My brother, however, did not stop there and complained that although I lived in a five-bedroom house and the mortgage was paid off, his and my sister’s properties were much smaller.
He then cruelly added that he and my sister would have to care for our parents if they became ill or infirm, since I lived 200 miles away, and that they “deserve” the extra financial help now.
In disbelief, I immediately called my sister, but she received a similar answer. “You’re the one who decided to move away. You have enough money!” she said. We didn’t speak for 18 months, and the reason for our argument inevitably leaked out to Mom and Dad.
They acted a little distant for a while, not calling me as often or acting a little colder when we spoke, which annoyed me.
What hurts most is that as a mother, I couldn’t imagine treating my children any differently, be it with my love, my time, or my money.
It doesn’t matter to me whether someone has a better job or a higher income. You simply don’t do for one person what you can’t or don’t want to do for the other person.
However, when a close friend died in 2021, my grief was compounded by the sudden realization that, despite everything, my family was too important not to be a part of my life.
I sent the same text to my parents, brother, and sister saying, “We haven’t spoken in a while. I think it’s time for all of us to move on.” Mom responded immediately and said it was good to hear from me and that she could call anytime. That’s exactly what I did that same day.
We skillfully avoided the subject of money, and my sister called to say how glad she was that Mom and I had talked.
Although she was willing to reconcile with me, her attitude and that of my brother had not changed one iota.
In her opinion, I was unlucky not to get the same handouts as her and I just had to deal with it.
My children had the same experience. They had to accept that their four cousins were supported financially by their grandparents, but they themselves did not receive a cent.
Fortunately, they just accept the situation as something that only happened because we live so far away.
Because of this whole story, I have decided to always treat my children equally. I even went so far as to keep a chart detailing the financial help or gifts they have received from their father and me.
For example, when they were students, my son’s annual rent was £7,000 while my daughter’s was only £6,200. I gave her £800 in cash to make up for the amount we had given them for rent, but I sat down with both of them and explained everything to them.
I’ve always given them the same budget for gifts at Christmas and birthdays their entire lives, while encouraging them to be financially savvy and independent. Always giving kids cash doesn’t do them any favors in the long run.
When they were 18, I charged them £50 a month each for room and board to teach them about financial responsibility. During their time at university, we encouraged them to work in a bar to support themselves, as I had done to finance my own studies, which they both did willingly.
They are now starting their careers as lawyers or surveyors, have an excellent work ethic and a good sense for money and have never asked me for money.
The same cannot be said for my nieces and nephews, who continue to rely on Grandma and Grandpa’s bank.
Today, I am better off and my relationships with my parents and siblings are better, if not closer, but only because I decided not to let the ongoing favoritism consume me.
However, my brother is currently renovating a run down house, mostly funded by my parents, and secretly I still feel incredibly hurt. It’s clear that I’m not seen as an equal.
Yet I take comfort in the fact that my own children will never question my love for them or hold grudges against each other, knowing that we have invested in them equally, literally.
■ As Sadie Nicholas tells
