Every summer, my stepmom sent the same group text:
“Beach house is booked! Everyone’s share is $700. Can’t wait!”
She called it a family tradition. A chance to bond.
There was just one issue—only her kids ever went.
Year after year, my siblings and I paid, adjusted schedules, and tried to join. And year after year, we were told the rooms were taken, the dates were fixed, or the house was “too crowded.”
But the money was always due.
When I quietly mentioned it to my dad, he shut me down.
“Don’t make a scene,” he warned. “It’s not worth the drama.”
So I stayed quiet—until the morning they were leaving.
Suitcases lined the door. Her kids buzzed with excitement. My stepmom ran the show, glowing.
I casually checked my phone.
“Quick question,” I said lightly. “Since only your kids ever go… what exactly are the rest of us paying for?”
Silence.
“It’s a shared expense,” she said stiffly. “We’re family.”
“Then are we finally included next year,” I asked, “or should we stop paying for trips we’re not allowed to attend?”
My dad tried to shut it down. I didn’t let him.
“I’ve paid $4,200 over six years for vacations I never took,” I said. “That’s not tradition. That’s a cover charge.”
I stopped paying. Told my siblings to do the same.
The beach trips ended.
Turns out the tradition only worked as long as no one questioned it.
And I learned this: silence is expensive—but one honest question can change everything.
