This probably sounds silly to anyone on the outside, but I …

This probably sounds silly to anyone on the outside, but I just need to let it out. I’m twenty and my little sister is sixteen, and honestly, sometimes she drives me up the wall. Today was one of those days. She’d been talking about ordering pizza since morning, but since she doesn’t have a job or any money, someone else had to pay. My parents went out for the night, so I offered to order dinner for both of us. I figured it would be a nice sister moment simple, easy, just food and maybe a movie. But no.

She told me to order the pizza with half olives. I said I didn’t want olives. I just wanted something simple like half pepperoni and half cheese. It wasn’t like I was asking for anything she didn’t like; she eats both all the time. But she got mad and said she wasn’t eating if I didn’t order olives, and then she hit me with the usual “you’re always selfish” line.

She even brought up some random time in the past when I said I didn’t want olives before even though that time I actually gave in and ordered them anyway. Then she threw in how our other sister would never act like this, which she loves to remind me of whenever she’s upset.

At that point, I just said forget it and told her I wasn’t ordering anything. Now she’s mad, sulking in her room, and I’m sitting here hungry and feeling weirdly guilty about pizza toppings. I know it’s such a stupid thing to be upset about, but it’s not really about the olives. It’s about the entitlement and how easily she dismisses me. Like, I was literally doing something nice buying her food and somehow I still end up being the selfish one.

What hurts more is that every time she calls me selfish, a small part of me starts to believe it. I replay her words over and over, wondering if I really am the problem. I just wanted to do something nice without feeling like I don’t get a say. It’s crazy how something as small as a pizza can make you feel so unseen and unappreciated by your own sibling. Maybe that’s why it stings so much because it’s never really about the olives. It’s about always being made to feel like I’m wrong for wanting something too.

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