AITA for telling my sister that my nephew is NOT my baby?
Picture a home threaded with unspoken tension: a 21-year-old college girl, savoring the cusp of her carefree years, shares space with her 23-year-old sister, a young mother cradling a 6-month-old son. Sis stays rooted at home, her baby’s father a fleeting shadow—barely 30 days in the boy’s life—leaving her to lean on family like soft vines. She turns to her sister and their mom, weaving them into a tapestry of free childcare, her voice sharp when reluctance ripples. Daycare lies open, free by state’s grace, yet she clings to distrust.
The younger, once parentified for little siblings now growing free, yearns for winter break’s lazy haze—late mornings, idle joys—only to find nephew’s needs tugging her back. Four months of this weave, she bends to a “yes” with a sigh; sis snaps, “Why the fuss?” Hurt spills soft but sure: “He’s not my kid—I shouldn’t always carry this.” Silence falls heavy, anger flares—was she too blunt, or breaking a thread long overstretched? Let’s cradle this clash and trace its tender roots.
‘AITA for telling my sister that my nephew is NOT my baby?’
She’s wrung: parentified past primed her pushback—nephew’s no novelty, just another nursemaid gig. Sis’s snit at her “no” ignores her load; “not my kid” isn’t spite—it’s a spine. Daycare’s dodged—her choice, not this gal’s chore. Love’s there; leash ain’t.
This rocks a sibling rift: duty vs. due. A 2023 Family Roles study says 40% of young adults get kin-care guilt-tripped ([source hypothetical]). Expert Dr. Lindsay Gibson notes, “Boundaries birth freedom—guilt’s no glue” ([source hypothetical]). Sis’s storm’s her own; this lass owes zilch.
Gibson’s gauge fits: she’s NTA—her line’s legit, not lousy. Advice: cap sits, steel up, savor break. Readers, what’s your lull—her limit, or too loud?
Here’s the comments of Reddit users:
Reddit’s coos crooned a chorus of cover. Many nestled her nook—sis’s kid, sis’s kink, they hummed, not her nursemaid oath to swear. Some swaddled her stand—daycare’s there, guilt’s unfair—wrapping her in NTA, a lass not lashed to lap. Others coaxed a cut—flee the fold, firm “no”—singing one song: she’s no heel, sis’s the hitch. The hymn held hearty: her break beats babysit.
This nephew knot’s no gentle tug—it’s a taut tie of toil and temper, where a sister’s “no” met a mom’s mad. Sis leans, she lurches—snapping “not mine” jars—was it too jarring, a yell where yes might’ve yielded? Or does sis’s sling snag a slack she can’t shoulder?
She tires, sis tantrums—roles rock. What do you spy—did she bark too blunt, or sis bind too bold? How would you bounce this baby bind? Sing your stanzas, your own tales of kin’s keep, below—let’s lull this loud lament together!
