Divisive 'Am I The Jerk?' Stories That Have Everyone Talking

I’m Alex (29NB), and my relationship with my dad’s side of the family is basically nonexistent (I’ve been no-contact with my dad for years). Growing up, we spent every vacation with them, and they were awful to me. Constant comments about how I was “too quiet,” “too weird,” or “too chubby.” They made me feel so uncomfortable that I’d just shut down around them—turns out, selective mutism was part of my undiagnosed autism.

The only person who was ever kind to me was my cousin Sophie.

She was patient, never judged me, and actually tried to get to know me. Fast-forward to now, she’s a single mom to a sweet 6-year-old, Evan, who was recently diagnosed with autism (level 1). When she told me, I opened up about my own diagnosis last year and offered to help out—sensory toys, noise-canceling headphones, whatever Evan needed. She was grateful, and we started talking about how tough it’s been for her, juggling therapies and appointments alone.

I told her I get how hard it must be, both for her and Evan, and that I was proud of her for how much effort she’s putting in.

Then I said something like, “Out of everyone in the family, I’m glad it’s you raising an autistic kid. Not because autism is ‘great,’ but because you’re the only one who ever made me feel accepted, and I know Evan’s got the best mom for it.”

Well… she stopped talking to me. My partner said my heart was in the right place, but it came out super harsh. I didn’t mean it like “thank god it’s your kid and not mine,” but more like… she’s the only one who’d handle it with love and patience.

AITJ?

Another User Comments:

Honestly? NAH. Your intention was clearly good, but dude, phrasing. I get why Sophie might’ve taken it the wrong way—autism diagnoses can be emotionally loaded, especially early on. She’s probably overwhelmed, and hearing “I’m glad it’s your kid” could’ve felt like you were minimizing her struggles.

That said, I don’t think you’re a jerk. Just… maybe lead with the part where you appreciate her, not the “glad it’s you” bit. Like, “You were the only one who ever understood me, and Evan’s lucky to have you.” Same sentiment, way smoother.

Give her some space, then apologize for how it came out. Focus on how much her support meant to you, not the family’s awfulness.

Another User Comments:

YTJ, but softly. Look, I know you didn’t mean it badly, but that was a terrible way to phrase it. Imagine if someone said, “I’m glad your kid has diabetes because you’re so responsible!” Like… what? Even if it’s true, you don’t say it.

Sophie’s in the thick of figuring out parenting a neurodivergent kid, and she doesn’t need to hear comparisons to the rest of the family.

Apologize, clarify what you meant (that she’s a great mom), and maybe offer practical help instead of commentary.

Another User Comments:

NAH. Your heart was in the right place, but timing and wording matter. Sophie was venting about the stress of being a single mom to a newly diagnosed kid, and your comment—while meant as praise—might’ve felt like you were making it about the family drama instead of her current struggles.

Try reaching out with something like, “Hey, I realize what I said came off wrong. I just meant that Evan couldn’t ask for a better mom, because you’ve always been so understanding.” Keep it about her, not the rest of the family.

Another User Comments:

YTJ, but not maliciously.

Look, I’m autistic too, and I totally get where you’re coming from. But think about how this sounded to her: “Thank god your kid is autistic and not someone else’s.” Even with context, that’s… yikes.

She’s probably already dealing with guilt, fear, and exhaustion. Your comment might’ve felt like you were treating Evan’s autism as a “blessing” instead of a challenge she’s still learning to navigate. Apologize, and next time, just say, “You’re doing an amazing job.” Full stop.

Another User Comments:

NAH, but you gotta fix this.

Your sentiment was sweet, but the delivery was like a slap in the face. Sophie’s probably hearing all kinds of unhelpful crap from people, and your comment—while well-intentioned—might’ve blended into the noise.

Instead of doubling down, send her a message like, “I’m sorry if what I said hurt you. I just meant that Evan is lucky to have someone as patient and kind as you, because you’ve always been that person for me.” Leave the family stuff out of it.

I’m Aria (25F), been living in Australia for the last four years. Last month, I managed to fracture my hand—don’t ask how, it’s embarrassing—and needed surgery. My parents, Ethan and Sophia, immediately wanted me to take sick leave and fly back to India to get it fixed. Their reasoning? It’d be cheaper there, and they could take care of me. I get where they’re coming from, but I wanted to at least check my options here first.

Turns out, my insurance covered most of the surgery, so staying was actually the cheaper move.

Plus, I had reasons not to go back just yet. One, I’m trying to handle my own stuff without always relying on them. Two, work was going through some big changes, and I didn’t wanna bail. And three… well, my dad’s been low-key pushing arranged marriage stuff on me, even though I’ve said a million times I’m not interested. Oh, and I’ve been seeing Jordan (non-Indian) for a while, and I wasn’t ready to drop that bomb mid-crisis.

When I told my dad I was getting the surgery here, he lost it. Full-on screaming for ten minutes straight.

Some highlights: “You think you know everything!”, “Money’s gone to your head!”, “You’d rather cut us off than admit you need family!”, and my personal favorite: “Let us know if you even want us in your life anymore.” Then he blocked me. That was four weeks ago.

Surgery’s done now, and radio silence from them. I’ve called my mom three times—nothing. My brother, Mason, is angry at me for not “trying harder” to fix things, but honestly? I’m mad too. Their whole argument was about cost and care, but when I solved those, they still wanted me in India.

Feels like control, not concern. Now their anniversary’s coming up, and I might not even get to say happy anniversary.

I’m trying to be independent, but it’s like the closer I get to that, the more they resent it. AITJ for refusing to give up control over my own life?

Another User Comments:

NTJ. Your parents are textbook controlling, and your dad’s meltdown proves it. This wasn’t about helping you—it was about pulling you back into their orbit. The second you showed you didn’t need them, they panicked.

Don’t cave. You’re doing everything right: handling your health, your job, your life.

If they can’t respect that, that’s on them. And honestly? The arranged marriage pressure plus the guilt-tripping? Major red flags. You’re not wrong for wanting autonomy.

That said, I’d hold off on telling them about your partner until things cool down. Right now, they’re looking for reasons to paint you as the “rebellious” kid. Give them space to realize you’re not a puppet.

Another User Comments:

Yikes. NTJ, but your family’s playing emotional chicken with you. They’re banking on you folding first so they can keep the upper hand. Your brother’s guilt-tripping is part of it—they’ve got him roped into their system too.

You’re not wrong for being furious.

They chose to cut contact because you didn’t obey. That’s manipulative as heck. And the anniversary thing? That’s them weaponizing guilt. If they really cared, they’d call to check on your surgery, not freeze you out.

Stay strong. If you give in now, they’ll just escalate next time.

Another User Comments:

Soft YTJ—not for the surgery, but for how you’re handling your parents. Look, I get it, independence is important. But Indian parents aren’t like Western ones; they see your life as their life. Your dad’s outburst was awful, but it came from fear, not malice.

You could’ve humored them a little.

Maybe flown back after surgery for a short visit to ease their worries. Instead, you dug in, and now everyone’s hurt. Family’s complicated, and sometimes you gotta pick your battles.

Another User Comments:

NTJ, but you’re in a tough spot. Your parents aren’t evil—they’re just stuck in their ways. They genuinely believe they’re helping, even if it feels suffocating. The arranged marriage stuff? That’s their culture talking. Doesn’t make it right, but it’s not personal.

That said, you’re not obligated to set yourself on fire to keep them warm.

If they won’t talk to you unless you obey, that’s their loss. Focus on healing (literally and emotionally). Maybe write them a letter explaining your side without yelling. Old-school, but it might help.

Another User Comments:

ESH. Your dad’s reaction was over the top, but you’re not blameless. You knew they’d freak out, and you dropped the surgery decision like a bomb. No compromise, no “let’s talk this through.” Just “my way or nothing.”

Family’s give-and-take. You want independence? Fine. But you can’t expect them to cheer when you shut them out of big life stuff.

They’re hurt, and yeah, they’re handling it badly, but you’re not exactly extending an olive branch either.

I’m (36f), married to my husband, Marcus (38m). Marcus has a sister, Sophie (31), who has special needs. For most of the year, Sophie lives with their mom, Beatrice. Now, Beatrice’s… a piece of work. She ditched Marcus and his dad when Marcus was like 15, and they’ve had a rocky relationship ever since. Marcus barely talks to her except when it’s about Sophie, who doesn’t really get the drama and still chats with Beatrice like nothing’s wrong.

Twice a year, Sophie visits us for a whole month.

She’s super independent — uses disability services to fly solo — but obviously, someone’s gotta pick her up. Marcus’s always called Beatrice selfish, and I never really got it until now. See, there’s always a general month for Sophie’s visit, but Beatrice picks the exact flight based on whatever’s cheapest. And she never checks with the people who have to actually do the pickup.

Normally, Marcus’s dad, Calvin, handles this, but this year, Sophie’s staying with us. Calvin already told us he’ll be traveling for work the first week of her trip, so it’s on us to coordinate.

Fine, no big deal. But then Beatrice books the flight without asking us on a day we already have plans. Like, we didn’t even know she was about to book it. Zero heads-up.

We told her we can’t cancel because we’ve got tickets to a charity gala — we’re on the planning committee, so it’s not just some random night out. Beatrice loses it. She’s threatening to cancel Sophie’s trip if we don’t drop everything because the tickets are non-refundable and she “isn’t paying for another flight.”

Marcus’s leaning toward caving, but we dropped serious cash on these gala tickets, and ours aren’t refundable either.

I don’t want Sophie to miss her trip, but Beatrice’s being ridiculous. AITJ for standing my ground?

Another User Comments:

NTJ. Beatrice’s acting like she owns everyone’s time. She didn’t bother to ask, so she doesn’t get to be mad when you’re not available. It’s not like you’re blowing her off for something trivial — you’ve got actual responsibilities at this event. And honestly, she’s not gonna cancel the trip. She’d lose all that money, and let’s be real, she’s too cheap for that.

This is just a power move to guilt you into doing whatever she wants. Stand firm, or she’ll keep pulling this crap every time.

It sucks that Sophie’s caught in the middle, but that’s 100% on Beatrice. If she actually cared about making this work, she’d communicate like an adult instead of throwing a tantrum when things don’t go her way. Next time, she’ll think twice before booking without checking. Maybe.

Y’all are being way too nice. Beatrice’s behavior is wild. She doesn’t get to demand you rearrange your lives because she couldn’t be bothered to pick up the phone.

And the whole “I’ll cancel the trip” thing? Emotional blackmail. Classic.

Marcus needs to grow a spine here. If you give in now, she’ll keep doing this forever. “Oh, you have a work thing? Too bad, I already booked it!” Nope. Boundaries exist for a reason. And yeah, it sucks for Sophie, but that’s Beatrice’s fault, not yours. You’re not the ones refusing to reschedule — she is.

Also, side note: Why is Calvin always the one coordinating? Beatrice’s the parent. She should be handling this, not dumping it on everyone else and then getting mad when they’re not at her beck and call.

Okay, unpopular opinion but… ESH.

Beatrice’s obviously the worst, but you guys kinda set yourselves up for this. You knew she pulls this stunt, so why didn’t you proactively say, “Hey, here are the dates we’re available”? Yeah, she should ask, but she won’t. So you gotta be the ones to enforce the rules.

That said, don’t cancel your plans. Beatrice’s bluffing — she won’t eat the cost of those tickets. But next time, get ahead of it. Text her like, “Sophie’s welcome anytime between the 5th and 20th, but we’re busy on the 12th.” Bam.

Problem (mostly) solved.

NTJ, but Marcus’s kinda being one to himself. Dude needs therapy. His mom bailed on him, and now she’s still controlling his life through guilt? Nah. He’s so used to her nonsense that he’s ready to drop everything to avoid her tantrum. That’s not healthy. You’re right to stand your ground, but this isn’t just about the gala. It’s about Marcus breaking the cycle. Beatrice’s gonna keep doing this as long as it works. Time to show her it won’t.

Honestly, Beatrice sounds like my ex’s mom.

Everything’s on her terms, and if you don’t comply, you’re the villain. News flash: Adults talk to each other before making plans. It’s not that hard.

Don’t cancel. Call her bluff. If she actually cancels (doubt it), then Marcus can explain to Sophie that her mom chose pettiness over her visit. But my money’s on Beatrice magically finding a way to change the flight last minute once she realizes you’re not budging.

So, my fiancé, Samuel, decided to “gift” me an 8-week-old golden retriever puppy last weekend. Sounds sweet, right? Except… I’m not a dog person. Like, at all. I don’t mind them in small doses, but owning one? Nope. We live in a tiny apartment with our 10-month-old cat, Cookie, who’s already a handful. Plus, Samuel asked if I wanted a dog, I said no, and he went ahead and got one anyway because he thought it’d be a “fun surprise.”

Now he’s calling me ungrateful and cold for not being over the moon.

Don’t get me wrong—the puppy’s adorable. But this feels like a major overstep. A dog is a huge commitment—financially, time-wise, everything. We’re already stretched thin, and now we’ve got vet bills, training, and a high-energy breed in a space barely big enough for our cat.

Worst part? He’s acting like I’m the unreasonable one for not wanting a responsibility I never agreed to. Feels manipulative, like he’s trying to force me into being a dog person by making me the villain if I say no. AITJ here?

Another User Comments:
This is such a classic case of someone wanting the idea of a dog without the reality.

Samuel didn’t just disrespect your boundaries—he set that poor puppy up for failure. Golden retrievers are not apartment dogs. They need space, exercise, and consistent training. If he didn’t even consider whether your lifestyle could handle that, he wasn’t thinking about the dog’s well-being at all.

And let’s talk about the manipulation. He asked, you said no, and he did it anyway. Now he’s guilt-tripping you? That’s not how partnerships work. A pet is a two-yes situation. You don’t just spring a living creature on someone and call them heartless for not being thrilled.

Honestly, the kindest thing for the puppy would be to rehome it ASAP.

The longer it stays, the harder it’ll be for it to adjust to a new family. And as for Samuel… yikes. If he’s this dismissive about a dog, what’s next? Bigger decisions? Kids? Major red flag. NTJ, but he sure is.

Another User Comments:
NTJ. At all. I’m a huge dog lover, but even I know you don’t just drop a puppy on someone like it’s a new coffee maker. Pets are family members, not gifts. And the fact that he’s turning this around on you? That’s some next-level guilt-tripping.

Also, golden retrievers are work.

They’re smart, energetic, and need tons of attention. If you’re not prepared for that, it’s not fair to the dog or you. Samuel didn’t just ignore your feelings—he ignored what’s best for the animal. That’s irresponsible pet ownership 101.

I’d sit him down and ask why he thought this was okay. If he doubles down, well… maybe he’s not mature enough to be making long-term commitments, whether it’s to a dog or to you.

Another User Comments:
Y’all are being too nice. Samuel is wildly out of line.

He didn’t just cross a boundary—he bulldozed it and then acted shocked when you weren’t grateful. That’s not love, that’s control.

And let’s be real: he didn’t get this dog for you. He got it for himself but slapped your name on it so he could dodge responsibility. When the puppy chews up your shoes or barks all night, guess who’s gonna be stuck dealing with it? Not him, apparently, since it’s your gift.

Rehome the pup, and seriously reconsider if this is the kind of person you want making decisions for both of you in the future.

NTJ, but Samuel is a walking red flag.

Another User Comments:
Okay, unpopular opinion, but… soft ESH. Hear me out.

Samuel was absolutely wrong to ignore your no. No debate there. But if you guys are engaged, this feels like a bigger communication issue. Did he explain why he wanted a dog so badly? Was this some misguided attempt to fix something in the relationship? Not excusing him, but there’s usually more to these things.

That said, the puppy shouldn’t suffer for his bad judgment. Rehoming is the best call, but maybe use this as a wake-up call for both of you. Couples therapy might help, because if he’s this dismissive now, it won’t get better without work.

Another User Comments:
Nah, NTJ.

This isn’t about the dog—it’s about respect. Samuel knew you didn’t want one, did it anyway, and is now playing the victim. That’s textbook manipulation.

And let’s not forget the cat! Introducing a puppy to a young, territorial cat in a small apartment is a disaster waiting to happen. Cookie didn’t sign up for this either.

Rehome the pup, but don’t stop there. Have a serious talk about why he thought this was okay. If he can’t see the problem, well… that tells you everything you need to know.

Back when I was 15, my mom and stepdad, Dylan, dragged me on a trip to his home country to visit his family. Almost the second we landed, they started fighting. They shoved me outside like I was a dog that needed air, and when I finally came back in, my mom was acting weird. Like, twitchy, avoiding eye contact, the whole nine yards. She dropped this bombshell that Dylan’s cousin, Elena, was getting married in two days, but I “shouldn’t worry about it.”

Yeah, sure. That’s not sketchy at all.

I kept pressing, and finally, she cracked.

Turns out, Elena was getting married… to me. But it was “just symbolic,” whatever that meant. Apparently, Elena’s family was in some kind of bind, and they needed a cultural wedding to happen fast. Dylan had already agreed to “help out,” so my mom couldn’t back out. She swore up and down it meant nothing, that it was just a formality, and I should play along to be polite.

The whole thing was a blur—weird rituals, fancy clothes, a ton of food (which, okay, was amazing). But the second it was over, we bolted. My mom and I spent the rest of the trip avoiding Dylan’s family, and once we got home, we never talked about it again.

Fast forward to today.

Dylan calls me out of the blue, offering to fly me, my wife, Zoe, and our kid out for a “family vacation.” He was way too eager, so I pushed back, and that’s when he dropped the truth: Elena’s trying to marry her actual partner now, but apparently, she can’t because she’s still “symbolically married” to me. So now, I gotta fly back to undo a wedding that was “never real” in the first place.

Here’s the thing—I don’t want to go. The country’s not exactly safe, I don’t speak the language, and the whole situation feels shady as heck.

Dylan’s guilt-tripping me, saying I’m “selfish” for not helping Elena “move on.” My mom’s begging me to just go along with it because Dylan “feels terrible.” My dad’s torn—he sees the free vacation angle but also gets why I’m sketched out.

I don’t owe these people anything. But part of me wonders if I’m overreacting.

Another User Comments:

Dude, no. Just no. First off, if this was truly symbolic, why does it need undoing? That’s not how symbolism works. You don’t need a whole ceremony to erase something that was never legally binding.

The fact that they’re insisting you fly out tells me this was never just symbolic.

Second, let’s talk safety. You don’t know the language, you don’t know the laws, and you’re walking into a situation where your stepdad has already proven he’ll lie to your face. What if they try to pressure you into something else while you’re there? What if they pull the same stunt with your kid?

And let’s not ignore the fact that your mom went along with this the first time. She knew it was messed up, but she still pushed you into it.

Why would you trust either of them now?

If they really need to undo this, they can hire a lawyer in their country and handle it remotely. You don’t owe them a free pass just because Dylan’s suddenly feeling guilty. Stay home, protect your family, and let them figure out their own mess.

Another User Comments:

Okay, unpopular opinion, but… maybe consider going? Hear me out.

Yeah, the situation’s sketchy, but if it’s just a quick ceremony to fix something stupid from years ago, and Dylan’s paying for the whole trip, that’s not the worst deal. You could turn it into a legit vacation—bring your wife and kid, do some sightseeing, and just show up for the one dumb ritual.

I get why you’re hesitant, but if this is really holding Elena back from marrying someone she loves, that kinda sucks.

It’s not your fault, but if it’s an easy fix, why not help?

That said, absolutely take precautions. Bring your own interpreter, make sure your passport stays on you at all times, and have an exit plan. If anything feels off, bail immediately. But if it’s just a cultural formality, maybe it’s worth doing.

Another User Comments:

Nope. Nope. Nope.

Let’s break this down:
1. They tricked you into a “symbolic” marriage as a kid.
2. They never told you the truth until you forced it out of them.
3. Now, they’re trying to guilt you into flying to a country where you have no rights or protections.

This isn’t about helping Elena.

This is about control. If they could railroad you into a fake wedding once, what’s stopping them from doing worse now?

And let’s not pretend this is just about culture. If it was, they’d have explained it properly the first time. The fact that they’re being vague again is a massive red flag.

Tell Dylan to handle it himself. If he’s so invested, he can figure it out without dragging you into it.

Another User Comments:

I’m gonna play devil’s advocate here. What if this is just a cultural thing, and you’re overcomplicating it?

Some cultures take symbolic marriages very seriously, even if they’re not legally binding.

Elena might genuinely be stuck in a weird limbo because of tradition, and your stepdad might honestly feel bad about it.

That doesn’t mean you have to go, but it’s worth considering whether this is a hill you want to die on. If it’s a harmless ritual, maybe just do it and move on.

But—and this is a big but—only go if you’re 100% sure it’s safe. Research the country’s laws, bring someone you trust, and don’t let them isolate you. If anything feels off, walk away.

Another User Comments:

Bro, you’re being gaslit.

Hard.

Dylan and your mom lied to you. They manipulated you into a fake marriage, and now they’re trying to manipulate you again. The fact that they’re framing this as your responsibility is insane.

If Elena’s family cared so much about her “moving on,” they’d have dealt with this years ago. The sudden urgency? Suspicious. The guilt-tripping? Even more suspicious.

Don’t fall for it. You have a wife and kid to think about. Your first priority is keeping them safe, not cleaning up Dylan’s mess. Tell him to pound sand.

I’m 26, and my grandparents just hit their 54th wedding anniversary. Big milestone, right? The whole family was there—my parents, my sister Jasmine (28), and her partner, Ethan (39). Yeah, there’s an age gap, and yeah, I’ve never been super comfortable with it. I’ve tried to be civil, but something about him just rubs me the wrong way. Our parents don’t seem to mind, though, so maybe it’s just me.

Anyway, the dinner was going great.

My grandpa gave this really sweet speech about my grandma, and everyone was getting emotional. Then, out of nowhere, Ethan stands up, starts tearing up, and launches into this whole speech about how much he loves Jasmine. Before I could even process it, he’s down on one knee, pulling out a ring.

Listen, I get that proposals are a big deal, but this was my grandparents’ night. Not his. Not Jasmine’s. Theirs. So, without thinking, I cleared my throat loudly, trying to signal that this wasn’t the time or place. Maybe it wasn’t my place to say anything, but come on—hijacking someone else’s celebration?

Really?

Ethan immediately snapped at me, saying I was ruining their moment. Jasmine just stood there, arms crossed, glaring. The whole room went dead silent. We left right after, and now I feel like I’ve not only ruined the anniversary but also made everything awkward with Jasmine and Ethan. My parents haven’t said a word, and I’m stuck replaying the whole thing in my head.

AITJ?

Another User Comments:
YTJ, no question. Your grandparents have had 54 anniversary dinners. That’s 54 years of celebrating their love. You really think they’d be upset that their granddaughter got engaged at one of them? If anything, they’d probably be thrilled to share the spotlight for once.

Your issue isn’t the proposal—it’s that you don’t like Ethan.

The age gap thing? Not your business. Jasmine is a grown woman who can make her own choices. You’ve been cold to him for years, and now you’ve made a scene at what should’ve been a happy moment for your sister. Congrats, you’ve officially made it about you instead of your grandparents.

Another User Comments:
ESH, except the grandparents. Ethan was tacky as heck for proposing at someone else’s event. Proposals should be their own thing, not piggybacking on a milestone that isn’t yours. And yelling at you? Classy.

But you didn’t help. Instead of letting it play out and addressing it later, you turned it into a public showdown.

Now the whole night is remembered for drama instead of love. Your grandparents deserved better, and so did your sister, even if her partner has the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

Another User Comments:
NTJ. I don’t care how many anniversaries your grandparents have had—stealing their moment is selfish. Ethan could’ve planned his own special occasion instead of hijacking theirs. The fact that no one else spoke up doesn’t make it okay; it just means they were too polite to call him out.

That said, you might’ve handled it better. A quiet word afterward would’ve been less disruptive. But I don’t blame you for being upset.

Another User Comments:
YTJ, but softly.

Look, I get why you’re uncomfortable with Ethan. The age gap is noticeable, and if you’ve never vibed with him, that’s valid. But this wasn’t about you. If Jasmine is happy, that’s what matters.

By interrupting, you made the night about your disapproval instead of letting your grandparents (or even Jasmine) react naturally. Maybe they would’ve been fine with it! Maybe they’d have been annoyed! But you took that choice away from them.

Apologize to your sister and grandparents, then work on your issues with Ethan separately.

Another User Comments:
NTJ, and I’m shocked people are defending this.

Proposing at someone else’s event is always rude unless you have explicit permission. It’s like announcing a pregnancy at a wedding—just don’t.

Ethan could’ve arranged a nice dinner or even asked your grandparents beforehand if they were cool with it. Instead, he ambushed the whole family. That’s not romantic; it’s lazy and inconsiderate. You weren’t wrong for calling it out.

So, my brother, Calvin, had no idea he had a kid until like six months ago. Turns out, his ex never told him. Now he’s suddenly a dad to an 11-year-old girl named Lila, and honestly? It’s been a mess.

Calvin moved back in with our parents because apparently raising a preteen is “overwhelming.” Which, okay, fair, but Lila’s not some helpless toddler. She’s pretty self-sufficient—does her homework, makes her own snacks, all that. I don’t get why he needs to live here just to parent her.

But the real issue?

Everyone treats her like she’s royalty. My parents are obsessed with her, buying her whatever she wants, letting her get away with everything. She’s here ALL the time—like, I can’t remember the last time she stayed at her mom’s place. And she’s got an attitude, too. Like, full-on eye-rolling, door-slamming, sassy comebacks. But my family acts like she’s the most precious thing ever.

Then yesterday happened. I ate the last chocolate ice cream in the freezer. Big mistake, apparently. Lila comes home from school, opens the fridge, and immediately starts demanding to know who took “her” ice cream.

(Side note: my parents buy like five different flavors every week. How was I supposed to know that specific one was hers?) I told her to just pick another flavor, but nope. She wanted me to go to the store RIGHT THEN and replace it.

I said no, obviously. But then my parents jumped in, saying I should just go get her another one. Like, seriously? It’s ice cream, not life-saving medicine. I lost it and yelled at them for spoiling her, saying she’s not some perfect angel and that she’s actually kind of a brat. And what does Lila do? Looks me dead in the eye and calls me a “loser with no life.” And my parents?

They acted like I was the one out of line.

Am I crazy here?

Another User Comments:

Okay, let’s break this down. First off, your brother just found out he has a kid. That’s a HUGE deal. He’s probably freaking out, trying to figure out how to be a dad overnight. Moving back home makes sense—he’s got zero experience, and your parents can help. You’re acting like an 11-year-old is some low-maintenance pet, but kids that age still need guidance, rules, and emotional support.

As for the ice cream thing… yeah, you messed up. If the family knows certain snacks are hers, don’t touch them.

That’s just basic respect. But your reaction was way over the top. Calling her a brat? Yelling at your parents? Dude, you’re 19. Act like it.

Another User Comments:

Nah, man, I’m with you on this one. Your family’s going way overboard. Yeah, it’s cool they want to bond with Lila, but spoiling her rotten isn’t the way to do it. Kids need boundaries, not free rein to demand whatever they want.

The ice cream thing is stupid. If it wasn’t labeled, how were you supposed to know? And making you go replace it immediately is ridiculous.

Your parents are setting her up to be entitled if they keep this up.

That said, you could’ve handled it better. Yelling at her wasn’t the move. She’s still a kid, and she’s probably acting out because her whole life just got flipped upside down. But your parents need to step up and actually parent instead of just giving in to her every whim.

Another User Comments:

YTJ, but so is everyone else.

Your brother’s overwhelmed, which is understandable, but he needs to step up and actually parent instead of relying on your folks to do it for him. Your parents are overcompensating by spoiling Lila, which isn’t doing her any favors.

And you? You’re taking out your frustration on an 11-year-old instead of addressing the real issue—your family’s messy dynamic.

The ice cream was just the tipping point. You’re not wrong for being annoyed, but screaming at a kid isn’t the solution. Have a calm conversation with your parents about how you’re feeling instead of blowing up.

Another User Comments:

Dude, you sound jealous. Like, really jealous.

Yeah, it sucks that the household dynamic changed, but Lila didn’t ask for this either. She’s probably struggling with all this new attention, and yeah, maybe she’s acting out because of it.

But you’re the adult here (technically). Act like it.

Also, the ice cream thing is such a non-issue. Just apologize and move on. This isn’t about dessert—it’s about you feeling pushed aside. Talk to your family instead of taking it out on a kid.

Another User Comments:

I’m gonna go against the grain here and say NTJ.

Your family’s handling this poorly. Lila’s old enough to understand that not everything revolves around her, and your parents enabling her behavior isn’t helping. You shouldn’t have yelled, but I get why you’re frustrated.

That said, try to cut Lila some slack.

She’s in a weird spot too. But your parents and brother need to find a balance between welcoming her and actually raising her properly.

So about four months ago, these new neighbors—let’s say their names are Kyle and Jenna—moved in next door with their trio of yappy little dogs. Now, I get it, their yard is basically a postage stamp, so they gotta walk the pups. But here’s the thing: they’ve turned my lawn into their personal dog park. And I’m not talking about a quick pit stop during a walk. Nah, they waltz right up to my driveway, let the dogs roam around for a solid 5-10 minutes, and just… hang out.

Like it’s totally normal.

The kicker? They’ve never once asked if it’s cool. Not even a head nod when we’ve literally walked past them while they’re camped out on my grass. Yeah, they pick up the poop (as far as I know), but the sheer audacity of it all got to me. So the other day, I finally asked them to stop. You’d think I’d insulted their ancestors. Kyle immediately got in my face, yelling about how I needed to “prove” they couldn’t do it by getting some official town documentation. Like, since when do I need a notarized letter to tell people to get off my property?

AITJ for not wanting my lawn to be their dogs’ toilet?

Especially when they’ve never even bothered to say hello?

Another User Comments:

Okay, look, I’m usually chill about this stuff. If someone’s dog takes a quick detour onto my grass during a walk, whatever. Sidewalks get hot, chemicals burn paws, I get it. As long as they clean up, it’s whatever. But that’s me. Your yard? Your rules. Full stop.

The fact that Kyle and Jenna didn’t even have the decency to ask—or, heck, acknowledge your existence—is wild. And then doubling down when you called them out? Nah, that’s next-level entitlement. You don’t need to justify why you don’t want dogs (or people) hanging out on your property.

It’s yours.

Honestly, if they wanna play the “show me the paperwork” game, call your local municipality. A trespassing citation or two might knock some sense into them. Or, you know, just start casually watering your lawn every time they show up. Nothing malicious, just… inconveniently timed sprinklers.

Another User Comments:

NTJ, but you’re gonna have to play their stupid game if you want this to stop. They literally dared you to get documentation, so go get it. Hit up the non-emergency police line, ask about trespassing laws, and see what it takes to file a report. Sometimes people don’t care about common courtesy, but they do care about fines.

That said, if bureaucracy isn’t your thing, there are… other options.

Motion-activated sprinklers are a classic. Or, if you’re feeling petty, blast an air horn every time they step onto your grass. Train them the same way they train their dogs. Negative reinforcement, baby.

Another User Comments:

NTJ, but let’s be real—Kyle and Jenna aren’t gonna magically grow manners. You’ve already tried the polite approach, and they responded like toddlers caught stealing cookies. Time to escalate.

Start documenting everything. Dates, times, photos (bonus points if you include a newspaper in the shot). Build a paper trail. Then, next time they pull this, call the cops. Not in a “I’m gonna ruin your life” way, but in a “Hey, there’s someone repeatedly trespassing on my property after being told to stop” way.

Let the authorities handle the awkwardness.

Also, side note: their argument about “proving” they can’t be there is nonsense. You don’t need a law degree to know private property means private property.

Another User Comments:

I’m gonna go against the grain here and say… kinda ESH? Yeah, your neighbors are rude as heck, but was this really the hill to die on? They clean up after the dogs, and it’s not like they’re throwing parties on your lawn. Sometimes it’s easier to just let stuff slide for the sake of peace.

That said, their reaction was way over the top.

If they’d just apologized and moved on, this wouldn’t even be a thing. But now? Now it’s a whole drama. Maybe try one more conversation—kill ’em with kindness—before going nuclear with cops or sprinklers.

Another User Comments:

NTJ, but you’re underestimating the power of passive aggression. Next time they’re out there, walk outside with a tape measure and start loudly muttering about “property lines” and “survey costs.” Bonus points if you fake a phone call to a lawyer.

Or, if you wanna be really petty, start walking your dog (or borrow one) and let it do its business on their lawn.

When they complain, hit ’em with the ol’ “Oh, I thought this was cool since you do it to me?”

So, I’ve got two kids from my first marriage—Ava (14) and Ethan (17). Both are obsessed with community theater. We live in this tiny town where, let’s be real, money talks. My kids love scoring lead roles, but honestly? They’re not exactly Meryl Streep material. A few years back, I figured out that if I throw a decent donation at the local theater, suddenly Ava and Ethan are front and center in every production. Kids are happy, life’s good.

My current wife, Isabelle, was a theater kid back in the day, and she’s been side-eyeing how often our kids land the big parts when there are clearly other kids who’d kill it way more.

I didn’t think it was a big deal, so I casually mentioned that, yeah, I’ve been “supporting the arts” (wink wink) to make sure Ava and Ethan get the roles they want. It’s my money, not ours, so it’s not like it affects her financially.

Well, Isabelle lost it. She said I’m screwing over the kids who actually put in the work, that my two are getting handed opportunities they didn’t earn, and that I’m setting them up for failure by letting them think they’re way better than they actually are. She’s upset because she thinks it’s unfair to the other kids, and now she’s giving me the silent treatment until I “stop bribing our kids into roles.”

Look, I get where she’s coming from, but it’s community theater.

None of these kids are gonna be on Broadway. The stakes are basically zero. My kids are having fun, no one’s getting hurt, and hey—the theater gets some extra cash. Win-win, right?

AITJ?

Another User Comments:

YTJ, no question. You’re basically teaching your kids that money buys success, not effort or talent. Community theater might seem like no big deal to you, but for some of those other kids, it’s their thing. They practice for hours, pour their hearts into auditions, and then get sidelined because your checkbook speaks louder than their skills.

And let’s talk about your kids—what happens when they realize their “talent” was just Dad’s wallet?

That’s gonna mess them up way worse than not getting a lead role ever would. You’re not just hurting the other actors; you’re setting your own kids up for a brutal reality check.

Plus, the theater itself suffers. Bad leads can tank a whole show, and then everyone’s hard work goes down the drain. If you really care about the arts, donate without strings attached. Otherwise, you’re just paying for vanity projects.

Another User Comments:

Nah, NTJ. People are acting like this is some huge moral crisis, but it’s small-town theater. The whole system’s rigged anyway—who do you think gets solos in the school choir or starting spots on the soccer team?

Kids whose parents are involved (or rich).

Your wife’s coming from a good place, but she’s overreacting. Your kids are happy, the theater gets funding, and it’s not like you’re stealing food from orphans. If the other parents care that much, they can cough up some cash too.

That said, maybe ease up a little? Let your kids earn a role or two on their own. But overall? This is how the world works. Better they learn it now.

Another User Comments:

YTJ, and honestly, you’re kinda gross for this. “None of these kids have that much talent” is such a dismissive, crummy thing to say.

Maybe they’re not Broadway-bound, but so what? They’re kids trying to enjoy a hobby. You’re turning it into a pay-to-win game, and that’s just sad.

Your wife’s right—you’re being unfair. And you’re also robbing your own kids of the chance to grow. Failure is part of life. If they never learn to handle rejection, how are they gonna cope when they’re adults and you can’t just write a check to fix their problems?

Stop pretending this is harmless. It’s not.

Another User Comments:

I’m torn. On one hand, yeah, it’s shady to buy roles.

On the other, if the theater’s cool with it, that’s on them for having a crappy system. But dude, you gotta see the bigger picture.

Your kids are gonna find out eventually. And when they do? They’ll either be humiliated or entitled, neither of which is great. Plus, the other kids are getting hurt, even if you don’t see it. Rejection sucks, but losing out because someone’s parent has deeper pockets? That’s a whole other level of unfair.

Maybe compromise? Keep donating, but let the casting stay merit-based. That way, you’re supporting the arts and not screwing over a bunch of teenagers.

Another User Comments:

YTJ, but not for the reasons everyone’s saying.

It’s not just about fairness—it’s about respect. You’re disrespecting the theater, the other kids, and your own family by treating this like some harmless little secret.

Your wife’s upset because she knows theater matters to people. It’s not just about “fun”; it’s about passion, hard work, and community. You’re reducing it to a transaction, and that’s pretty gross.

Also, side note: if your kids aren’t good, why are you pushing them into leads? That’s just setting them up for embarrassment. Let them enjoy theater without turning it into some weird ego thing.

So, one of my old high school friends, Alice, is getting married. We haven’t been tight in years, but she asked me to be a bridesmaid anyway. She said it was because back in the day, she, her bestie (Lucy), and I were this little trio, so it would’ve felt “off” not to include me. Fine, whatever, I’m not gonna say no to free cake.

Fast forward to dress shopping. There were five of us bridesmaids, plus the maid of honor, Alice’s mom, her grandma, and her future mother-in-law.

We did the whole brunch thing, then hit the bridal shop. Alice’s fiancé is super Catholic, so she wanted this super traditional gown. The one she picked was white with silver detailing—some intricate floral embroidery. At the time, I thought it looked kinda familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on why.

A week later, I posted a cute pic of my toddler sprawled out on my bed. The way she was lying made the bedding’s pattern frame her perfectly, like some artsy photo op. I even used my fancy camera, so it looked professional. Lucy comments first with the obligatory “awww,” but then goes, “Wait… is that Alice’s dress?” I was confused and said, “Uh, no?

It’s my bedsheets?”

Next thing I know, Lucy makes a group chat with me and Alice and drops this gem: “Why didn’t you tell Alice her dress matches your bedding?” I was like, “I didn’t even realize it was the same design?” Alice chimes in with, “It’s weird that you bought bedding that looks like my dress.” EXCUSE ME? I’ve had these sheets for three years. They’re from Target.

They demanded I take the pic down. I refused. So they blocked me. Then another bridesmaid, Amber, texts me saying Alice told her to uninvite me.

Cool.

Here’s the kicker: I’d already put down the deposit for the bachelorette party. We split it five ways, and my share was the deposit—nobody else had paid yet. The party was at this fancy casino resort my family goes to a lot, so I hooked us up with a sweet suite deal. But since I’m uninvited, I canceled the reservation to get my money back.

Now everyone’s calling me a jerk for “taking it too far.” Oh, I’m sorry, was I supposed to eat the cost because Alice’s mad about my bedsheets?

Another User Comments:

Dude, this is next-level ridiculous.

Who even notices that their friend’s wedding dress looks like their BEDDING? That’s not a thing normal people pay attention to. Alice and Lucy are acting like you committed some elaborate scheme to upstage her wedding, when in reality, you just… own sheets. Sheets you’ve had for years. The mental gymnastics here are Olympic-level.

And canceling the bachelorette reservation? Absolutely the right move. Why should you lose money because they’re being petty? If they wanted to keep the reservation, maybe they shouldn’t have uninvited you over something this stupid. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Also, the fact that they blocked you instead of just talking it out says everything.

They’re not interested in logic—they just want drama. You’re better off without that nonsense.

Another User Comments:

Okay, but can we talk about how unhinged it is to accuse someone of copying your wedding dress… with their BEDSHEETS? Like, what’s next? “How dare you wear a white shirt to my wedding, it’s clearly a ploy to steal my spotlight!”

Alice sounds like she’s deep in Bridezilla territory. And Lucy’s just enabling it. You didn’t do anything wrong. At all. The picture was innocent, and you had no reason to connect your bedding to her dress.

As for the bachelorette, good on you for canceling.

They don’t get to kick you out AND expect you to fund their party. That’s not how life works. If they’re mad about losing the deal, maybe they should’ve thought twice before starting drama over nothing.

Another User Comments:

I’m gonna go against the grain here and say ESH. Yeah, Alice overreacted, but canceling the bachelorette reservation feels petty. You could’ve just asked for your deposit back from the others instead of nuking the whole thing. Now the other bridesmaids—who might not have even been involved in the drama—are stuck scrambling.

That said, Alice’s behavior is wild.

Who gets mad about bedsheets? And blocking you instead of having an adult conversation is childish. But two wrongs don’t make a right. You could’ve taken the high road.

Another User Comments:

Nah, OP, you’re 100% in the clear here. Alice and Lucy created this mess, and now they’re dealing with the consequences. You didn’t “take it too far”—you just refused to be a doormat.

Think about it: if you hadn’t canceled, you’d be out that money, and they’d still be treating you like garbage. Why reward that behavior? The other bridesmaids can still have their party—they’ll just have to pay more.

Boo hoo. Maybe next time they’ll think twice before siding with irrational people.

Another User Comments:

I’m stuck on the fact that Alice genuinely thinks you went out and bought bedding to match her dress. Like… what? That’s some main-character syndrome right there.

Also, the mental image of a toddler accidentally photobombing a wedding dress feud is low-key hilarious. “Sorry, Alice, my kid’s nap time is more important than your ego.”

You handled this perfectly. They wanted to cut you out? Fine. But they don’t get to keep the perks you arranged. That’s just karma doing its job.

I live in this apartment complex and have been searching for a roommate for months. After scouring the internet, I finally thought I hit the jackpot with this person named Riley. We vibed well, talked expectations, and Riley mentioned the job needed relocation ASAP to an office near me. Sweet, right? We worked it out with the leasing office, and boom—Riley moved in two days later.

Here’s the kicker: Riley never mentioned having a service dog until after signing the lease. Like, six hours before moving in. I’ve never owned a dog, and our complex charges extra for pets, but Riley assured me the dog was always with Riley and that the fee would be covered.

Fine, whatever. I said okay, and Riley moved in that night.

Fast forward to the weekend. Riley tells me a drive back to Riley’s parents’ place (about two hours away) is on the agenda to grab the rest of Riley’s stuff. I figured, cool, the dog’s going with Riley. Nope. Riley bolts at 5 AM, and by 11 AM, I hear whining from Riley’s room. I open the door—the dog is just sitting there, looking miserable. I take the dog out, do the whole potty break thing, and text, “Uh, why’s the dog still here?” Riley says being almost back and thanks me.

Riley rolls in at 12:30 PM, and I ask again why the dog didn’t go along. The excuse? “No room in my friend’s car, but my mom’s coming later with a truck.” Okay, weird, but whatever. I nap.

I wake up at 1:30 PM—Riley’s gone, doors closed. I go back to studying. Then, at 6 PM, more scratching and whining. Yep, the dog is locked in again. I take the dog out again and text. The response? “Oh, he just misses me. You didn’t have to take him out—I let him out five hours ago.” Bruh.

Not my problem, right?

Riley comes home at 10:30 PM. The next day, Riley decides to go out. Takes the dog out at 11 AM, brings him back, and leaves. I’m studying when, at 12:30 PM, the dog opens my door and barks at me. I walk into the living room—there’s a fresh pile of dog poop.

I’m mad. I text, and Riley apologizes, saying a cleanup is on the way. Riley comes back ten minutes later, and we talk. I express my upset feelings, and Riley hits me with, “My mom can take the dog back if it’s a problem.” I’m confused—don’t you need a service dog?

Riley says, “I’ll manage. I don’t want you upset in your own place.”

So… AITJ for making a big deal out of this?

Another User Comments:

NTJ. This whole situation stinks worse than that pile of dog poop in your living room. First off, that’s not a service dog. Service dogs don’t get left behind constantly—they’re, you know, needed by their handlers. Riley pulled a fast one by hiding the dog until the last second, knowing full well most people wouldn’t say no to a “service animal” due to legal stuff.

Second, Riley’s a terrible pet owner.

Locking a dog in a room for hours is neglect, plain and simple. The fact that Riley’s so casual about it—”Oh, he just misses me”—is infuriating. Dogs need exercise, attention, and consistent care. If Riley can just hand the dog off to mom, clearly the dog isn’t vital for any medical reason.

You’re not overreacting. Riley’s taking advantage of you, and that poor dog is suffering for it. I’d seriously consider talking to the leasing office about this. If Riley lied about the dog being a service animal, that might violate the lease terms.

Either way, you deserve a roommate who’s honest and respectful.

Another User Comments:

NTJ, but honestly, you’re underreacting. Riley’s behavior is a parade of red flags. Hiding the dog until it was too late for you to back out is shady as heck. What if you were allergic? What if you just hated dogs? Riley didn’t care—Riley just needed a place to stay.

And let’s talk about the “service dog” thing. Real service dogs don’t get left behind all day. They’re trained to assist with specific tasks, and their handlers need them.

The fact that Riley’s fine ditching the dog for hours proves this is just a pet being passed off as a service animal to avoid fees or rejections.

Plus, the dog opened your door? That’s not trained behavior. At best, this is an untrained pet; at worst, it’s a poorly disguised lie. You’re not wrong for being upset. I’d be furious if I were stuck cleaning up after someone else’s neglected dog.

Another User Comments:

Y’know, I’m torn here. On one hand, Riley should’ve been upfront about the dog. No question. But on the other… is it possible Riley’s just overwhelmed?

Moving is stressful, and maybe poor planning is to blame. The dog might actually be a service dog, but Riley isn’t using the dog properly because of disorganization.

That said, it’s still not cool to leave the dog with you without asking. Even if it’s a legit service animal, you didn’t sign up to be a dogsitter. If Riley’s struggling, a conversation before leaving the dog behind would have been the right move.

I don’t think you’re the jerk, but I also don’t think Riley’s some master manipulator. Maybe have a real sit-down conversation about expectations before jumping to drastic measures.

Another User Comments:

NTJ, and honestly, I’d report Riley to the leasing office.

If the dog isn’t a real service animal (and let’s be real, it isn’t), then Riley’s violating the pet policy. Most places require documentation for service animals, and if that can’t be provided, trouble is inevitable.

Also, the dog’s quality of life matters here. Locking the dog up for hours is cruel. If Riley can’t care for the dog properly, the dog shouldn’t be there. You’re not just standing up for yourself—you’re standing up for the dog, too.

Another User Comments:

Okay, hot take: ESH. Yes, Riley should’ve mentioned the dog.

But you also let it slide when the dog was left alone the first time. If you’d put your foot down then, maybe the poop incident wouldn’t have happened.

That said, Riley’s offer to send the dog away is weird. If that’s a real service dog, Riley needs it. If it isn’t, then Riley’s being dishonest. Either way, this living situation sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. You two need to hash things out properly—or consider parting ways.

I (31m) lost my mom when I was 6. Even though I was young, I had these really vivid, precious memories of her. So when my dad, Dylan, started going out with other women barely a year after she died, I didn’t take it well. Dylan knew it was hard for me, but he pulled the whole “I’m the adult, I know what’s best” card and said I’d thank him later. Spoiler alert: I didn’t.

Not long after, he married my stepmom, Elaine.

I started acting out—big time. Dylan’s response? “Parenting alone is hard, and your sister, Zoe (29f), needs a mom.” He even dragged my mom’s parents into it, convincing them to tell me to be a “good boy” and play along. I caved for the wedding, but once Elaine moved in and started redecorating the house like my mom never existed, I lost it again.

Dylan’s solution? Punishments. Every time I messed up or made Elaine upset, it was straight to my room or no privileges. And of course, the classic: “Zoe isn’t acting like this.” Yeah, well, Zoe was barely 3 when our mom died. She didn’t remember her the way I did. It stung when Zoe started calling Elaine “mom,” and I hated it when Elaine called me her son. I corrected her every single time.

Things got worse when I was 9 and Elaine had her own kids. Suddenly, adoption was on the table. Zoe was all for it, but I refused. Dylan brought my mom’s parents back to convince me, but I still said no. They tried to push it through anyway, but thankfully, the judge actually listened to me in private and shut it down. After that, therapy happened (briefly), and then came the “if you don’t want to be part of THIS family, you don’t get X or can’t do Y” nonsense. Joke’s on them—I was too stubborn for that to work.

The only person who had my back was my dad’s sister, Aunt Karen. She called Dylan and Elaine out whenever she saw their crap. So the second I turned 18, I moved in with her. That’s also when my mom’s parents finally admitted they never actually supported any of this—Dylan had threatened to cut them off from me and Zoe if they didn’t play along. I was livid. ... Click here to continue reading