u/AggressiveLibrary965

This happened a few years ago but it still eats at me sometimes, especially because some of my family still hasn’t forgiven me for it.

I’m 31F now, but when this happened I was barely an adult myself. I have two younger siblings, my sister and brother, who are only about 10 months apart in age. Their mom abandoned them to go be with her dealer, and after that everything in the house completely fell apart.

My dad was in his 50s and technically a stay-at-home dad, but most of the actual parenting became my responsibility almost overnight. I was waking up with the kids, feeding them, cleaning them up, trying to get them to daycare/preschool, doing laundry, putting them to sleep, and trying to keep the house functioning while also attempting to have some kind of life of my own.

I loved those kids more than anything, so at first I just kept telling myself this is what family does. But the months kept dragging on and I was drowning. I couldn’t keep a normal job because childcare always fell back on me. I stopped seeing friends. I was exhausted all the time and constantly anxious because if I didn’t do something, nobody else would.

The worst part is I could see the kids being affected by it too. The house was chaotic, routines barely existed, meals were inconsistent, things were dirty more often than not, and everyone was stressed constantly. My dad wasn’t abusive, and I don’t want people thinking he was some monster, but he was overwhelmed and honestly not capable of properly taking care of two toddlers anymore.

One night I remember sitting there realizing I was 18/19 years old trying to raise two traumatized little kids basically alone, and I broke down. I felt trapped. I knew I couldn’t keep doing it, but I also knew the kids deserved better than what we were giving them.

So I called youth services.

I didn’t do it to hurt my dad. I did it because I genuinely believed those kids needed stability and care that I couldn’t provide by myself. They ended up being temporarily placed somewhere more stable while everything got sorted out.

Honestly, they improved almost immediately. They were cleaner, calmer, eating properly, sleeping on schedules, acting like normal little kids again instead of constantly stressed and overstimulated.

But my family acted like I betrayed everyone. Some of them still bring it up years later and say I should’ve “helped more” instead of involving the system. My dad passed away since then, which makes the guilt even heavier sometimes because I know he was struggling too and I know he loved those kids in his own way.

At the same time, I can’t shake the feeling that if I hadn’t called, things would’ve gotten even worse.

I still don’t know if I did the right thing.

AITA?

UPDATE: First of all, thank you so much for all the kind comments and messages. I honestly didn’t expect this many people to understand where I was coming from.

A lot of people asked what happened afterward, so here’s a small update.

This actually happened much longer ago than some people assumed. I’m 31 now, and my siblings are 13 and 14. Looking back now with more distance, I can say calling youth services was probably the hardest decision I’ve ever made, but also the right one.

They ended up being placed with an absolutely amazing woman who genuinely cared for them and gave them the stability, attention, and structure they desperately needed. They’re thriving now. They’re doing well in school, they have hobbies, friends, personalities of their own, and they actually got the chance to just be kids.

As for me, I was finally able to build my own life too while still staying close to them. I never lost my visitation rights and I’ve always been able to see them whenever I wanted. We’re still very close.

Sadly, my dad lost visitation more than once over the years because he kept showing more interest in tobacco and the money he received connected to them than in actually spending time with them consistently. That part still hurts to admit because despite everything, he was still my dad, and he has since passed away.

But seeing my siblings now makes me realize they deserved the chance they got.

I’m insanely proud of both of them.

My fiancée (21F, UK) and I (31F, Germany) will have been together for 2 years this August. Because of distance and life stuff, our relationship is mostly WhatsApp calls, gaming together, and being online together day to day. We usually spend 4–5 months together over the holidays at the end of the year, and aside from that I try to fly to the UK for her birthday since it’s also our anniversary.

Before we got together I already had a dog, but honestly she became our dog really quickly and especially “her dog” in my dog’s eyes 😅 They got super attached during the long periods we spend together.

The hard part is when I come back to Germany after months in the UK with my fiancée. I can really see our dog struggle without her mama afterward. She gets clingy, mopey, waits around for her, and just seems confused about why she disappeared again after spending so much time together. We already do the classic “teddy sprayed with perfume” thing so she still has her scent around, and it definitely helps calm her a bit.

I was wondering if anyone else in long distance relationships with pets has dealt with this? Are there other things that helped your dog cope better after your partner and the dog bonded so strongly?

So I work in a pretty small office, around 15 people total, and our break room microwave is basically sacred because everyone uses it constantly. Last week I was heating up leftover pasta, and I’ll admit I got distracted scrolling on my phone and accidentally microwaved it WAY too long.

At first everything seemed normal, but then there was this horrible burning smell and a loud popping noise. I panicked, stopped the microwave, opened it up, and there was smoke coming out plus this weird melted spot on the inside wall. The microwave still technically turned on afterward, but it made this angry buzzing sound.

Right then I heard people coming toward the break room, and instead of saying anything, I just grabbed my food and left.

About an hour later someone tried using it and it completely died. Since then, the whole office has been debating who broke it. My manager even sent a passive-aggressive email saying people need to “take accountability for shared equipment.”

The thing is nobody actually saw me do it. And now another coworker is getting blamed because apparently he “always burns popcorn.” He keeps defending himself and everyone jokes about him being the microwave killer.

I feel guilty, but also the microwave was ancient and probably ready to die anyway. Plus if I confess now, it’ll look worse because I stayed quiet while someone else took the heat for it.

My roommate says I should anonymously offer to chip in for a new microwave and move on. Another friend says I’m absolutely the asshole for letting someone else get blamed.

AITA?