The Group Chat I Never Wanted

I woke up to my phone blowing up. It was a weekday, around 10ish, and of course I went to look. First thing I see is Izzy (love her, always). Then I see it the group chat I never wanted to be in. The one with Sarah and Cam.

I clicked it so fast.

Backstory Time

The week before, they had made this group chat to send a message to me and Izzy about going to the aquarium with them. The plan was to surprise Dad with all his girls there. Sweet idea, sure. But they wanted to go on Black Friday. Too short notice. I kept telling them: take Dad, he would love it. They didn’t like that answer. And after that? Silence. Until this day.

Izzy saw the messages first. She replied, making it clear the new day they picked wouldn’t work because she had work. At that point, it was just Sarah replying, and she wouldn’t take Izzy’s answer. She kept going and going.

Then I joined in. And I didn’t hold back.

No Is a Complete Sentence

If someone says no, that’s it. No is a complete sentence. You are not owed a reasoning for the no. Move on.

My first message was basically: “Hey, I’m not doing this shit.” I don’t care if it sounded rude. We’re adults. I’m done.

Of course, they didn’t like that. Cue Cam, crawling out of hiding. Still a coward never talking directly to me, just repeating: “If you have an issue you can schedule a call.” Over and over, even when I wasn’t talking to him.

And then Sarah flipped the script. Playing victim. Sending a sad message about how she’s “always trying” and how we don’t want to be with them, how she doesn’t know what to do anymore.

That’s when I snapped inside.

The Line That Hurt

I sent this:
“You didn’t try. If you did, you would have reached out to me after I told you about what Emily has done to me. You would have listened to me. Instead, you gave her a voice and put her on a pedestal. You were a sister to her and a stranger to me.”

That line hurt me. Writing it, sending it it felt like being a kid again. Mom was sick, I was crying, begging for help from my older sister. And she told me to stop. She left me. I almost lost my life because of that moment.

Blood Isn’t Family

Now, as an adult, I’ve learned: blood isn’t family. She had the title of “sister,” but she lost it.

If you ask my friends even my exes they’d tell you I’ve always had sisters. But honestly? Izzy, my cousin, is more of a sister than they will ever be.

And that’s the truth I woke up to that morning, phone buzzing, group chat exploding. Sometimes the people who share your blood aren’t the ones who show up for you. Sometimes family is chosen. And sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is say no and mean it.