Anna sat in her small rented apartment, holding the phone that had just carried her mother’s voice. The words were still ringing in her head: “Anya, we need your help. Sveta’s wedding will cost more than we planned. You understand what an important milestone this is in her life. We know you have savings for an apartment, but that can wait.”
Twenty-eight years. Twenty-eight years of life, twenty-five of which she’d spent in her younger sister’s shadow. Anna rose from the couch and went to the mirror. An ordinary face looked back at her—dark hair, brown eyes behind glasses, no makeup. Next to Sveta she always seemed like a gray mouse.
And Sveta was the embodiment of all their parents’ dreams. Tall, slender, with golden hair and blue eyes. At twenty-three she was marrying a successful businessman.
Anna closed her eyes and let the memories come flooding in. The earliest incident had stayed with her as the first injustice—her sixth birthday. Her parents had invited guests, but the whole evening everyone fawned over little Sveta, who had just started to walk.
“Look what a beauty she’s growing into!” the aunts would say, bending over Sveta.
“And the older one is so serious, wise beyond her years,” they’d add with a condescending smile.
Anna’s mother smiled proudly: “Yes, our Svetochka is special. And Anya—she’s independent, she can play by herself.”
And six-year-old Anna would nod, putting on an understanding smile, and truly did entertain herself in the corner while everyone cooed over her younger sister.
It repeated year after year. When Anna turned eight and Sveta three, their parents decided on a joint birthday. “Why spend money twice? Anya will understand; she’s sensible,” said their father. The cake was pink with princesses—Sveta’s favorite theme. The presents were mostly for the little one: pretty dresses, dolls. Anna got books and pencils. “You’re a smart girl; this suits you better,” her mother explained.
At ten, Anna asked to be enrolled in music school. “Music is expensive, Anya. Why do you need that? You’re already doing well in school,” her father said at once. Two months later, five-year-old Sveta was signed up for choreography at a prestigious studio. “The child shows ability; we have to develop it,” her mother explained. Those classes cost three times more than the music school.
When Anna was twelve, she got into drawing. Her teacher praised her work, said she had talent. Anna asked her parents to enroll her in an art studio. “Nonsense! Draw at home,” her father waved her off. Meanwhile, they bought expensive outfits for seven-year-old Sveta’s beauty contests. “Look what a little fashionista she’s becoming!” her mother marveled.
At fourteen, Anna fell in love with a classmate, Denis. He was smart, into astronomy. When she told her mother, she laughed: “It’s too early for you to be thinking about boys. Better focus on your studies.” But when nine-year-old Sveta said she liked a boy in her class, the whole family discussed it as something cute. “Our princess is already winning hearts!” her father laughed.
Her parents constantly explained to guests: “We had Anya early; we were very young, not ready. But Svetochka—she’s our long-awaited child.” Anna heard that phrase hundreds of times. And each time, something clenched inside her. A youthful mistake—that’s what she was in her parents’ eyes.
At fifteen, Anna wanted to go to a math camp—it would help with admission to a technical university. “Why waste money on math? She can study at home,” her parents said. That same year, ten-year-old Sveta was sent to an expensive camp with modeling courses. “A child needs well-rounded development,” her mother explained.
When Anna turned sixteen, she wanted to get a part-time job to hire a physics tutor. “Study better instead of running around with part-time jobs,” said her father. But when eleven-year-old Sveta wanted horseback riding—the most expensive hobby—the parents found the money. “Sveta is special; she needs only the best,” her mother explained.
At school Anna was an honors student, competed in academic contests, and placed. But her parents took it for granted. “Anya is smart; it comes easy to her,” they’d say. While when Sveta got a B in art, it became a family celebration.
In her senior year, Anna took second place in the city math Olympiad. “Good job, but why not first?” was her parents’ reaction. That same day, Sveta was chosen to play the lead in the school play. The whole evening at home they talked only about that.
When it came time to choose a university, Anna asked for a tutor to prepare. “You’ll manage on your own; you’re smart,” her parents said. But they found money for acting classes for Sveta, which cost twice as much.
Anna got in on a scholarship by herself. At university she worked part-time to rent a room and buy textbooks. Her parents knew but didn’t offer help. “Good for you for working. It builds character,” her father said. But when Sveta asked for a new iPhone, they bought the most expensive model.
In her second year Anna got a boyfriend. It was serious; she was in love. Her parents treated him coldly. “Too early for you to think about marriage. Finish university first,” her mother said. But when fifteen-year-old Sveta started dating a classmate, the parents bought her pretty clothes for dates and gave her money for outings.
In her third year, Anna was offered an internship in Germany. A unique opportunity, but she needed money for paperwork. “We don’t have that kind of money,” her parents cut her off immediately. A month later they bought Sveta a car for two hundred thousand rubles—twice the amount Anna needed.
Anna remembered standing by that car and crying. Not out of envy, but from understanding her place in the family hierarchy. Her education, her future—none of it mattered.
After university Anna got a job at an IT company. She worked hard and climbed the career ladder. Her parents showed little interest in her work. “Anya works with computers somewhere”—that was all they knew. But when Sveta enrolled in a university program with tuition, her parents proudly told everyone about her “prestigious field.”
At twenty-two Anna rented an apartment. Her parents criticized it: “A bit small, but it’ll do for a start.” And immediately began talking about how Sveta was dating a promising businessman named Igor.
When Anna turned twenty-five, she got a promotion and became a team lead. She called her parents to share the news. “That’s good, Anya,” her father replied coolly. And at the end of the conversation he added, “By the way, Sveta has news! Igor proposed!” And the rest of the call was devoted to Sveta’s plans.
Now a wedding for the ages was being planned. A restaurant for two hundred people, fresh flowers from Holland, a designer dress, musicians, photographers. Her parents were ready to go into debt, but it wasn’t enough. That’s when they remembered their elder daughter.
Anna opened her laptop and looked at her bank account. Three million rubles—the result of seven years of frugality, skipping vacations, buying cheap clothes. Three million that were meant to be the start of her independent life.
The phone rang again. Mom.
“Anya, have you thought about it? We need one and a half million.”
“Mom, that’s all my savings. I’ve been saving for an apartment for seven years.”
“So what? You’re young; you’ll earn more. But a wedding is once in a lifetime for Sveta.”
“I might have a wedding too.”
“You might. But there’s no sign of it yet. And Sveta has already found her love.”
Those words stung. Anna knew she wasn’t a beauty, that her personal life wasn’t working out. But did that really mean she had no right to her own dreams?
“Mom, I can’t give all the money.”
“Don’t be selfish, Anya. Family should support each other.”
“And has she ever helped me?”
“Don’t say silly things. Sveta is the younger one; she doesn’t owe you anything.”
An hour later her father arrived.
“Anya, don’t make a scene. We need the full one and a half million. You’ll have enough left for a studio.”
“I dreamed of a two-room apartment. I wanted a separate bedroom.”
“At least Sveta is getting married, while you’re still sitting in corners. Better help your sister—who knows, you might meet someone yourself.”
That was the last straw.
“So she gets everything, and I’m supposed to earn everything myself? Because I’m a youthful mistake? I won’t pay for her wedding!”
Her father looked at her in surprise. Anna had never raised her voice.
“What are you saying? What ‘youthful mistake’?”
“Don’t pretend, Dad. I’ve heard you explain to people all my life that I came too early, that you weren’t ready. And Sveta is your long-awaited child. Everything for her, and I’m supposed to work and hand over my money to her?”
“Anya, you don’t understand…”
“I do understand! I’m twenty-eight. I work from morning till night, I scrimp on everything to buy my own home. And now you demand I give up half of what I’ve saved my whole life—for Sveta’s wedding?”
“She’s your sister!”
“A sister who has never cared about me? Who doesn’t even know where I work? As a child I wanted music—you said it was too expensive, and a month later you signed her up for dance at triple the cost. I dreamed of an art studio—you had no money, but you found money for her beauty pageants.”
“Your life is stable. You have a good job.”
“So what? Is that a reason to demand money from me? I’ve saved every penny for seven years for this apartment. Dad, I won’t give money for the wedding.”
The next day Anna submitted her mortgage application. With her income, approval was no problem. Two weeks later she found the perfect two-room apartment.
No one called from home for three days. Then Sveta called.
“Anya, Mom says you’re being difficult. Why are you acting like a child? This is a family matter.”
“Sveta, it’s my money.”
“So what? Money isn’t the main thing. Family is what matters. I’m only getting married once.”
“Support goes both ways. But with us, I’m the only one doing the supporting.”
“What do you want?”
“For you to find a job and earn your own wedding.”
Sveta laughed:
“A job? What for? I’m getting married. That’s my profession.”
“Then let your fiancé pay for the wedding.”
“He’s already spending a lot. I don’t want to seem greedy.”
“And asking your sister isn’t greedy?”
“This is family; it’s different.”
“No, Sveta. It’s not different. You’re just used to me always giving in.”
“You know what, I’m tired of begging. If you don’t want to help, that’s your choice.”
A month later Anna got the keys to her apartment. Two rooms, with a separate bedroom. Exactly what she had dreamed of. Her colleagues helped on moving day. No one from her family called.
Sveta’s wedding took place—but more modestly, in a small restaurant. Her parents went into debt but saved face.
Six months later Anna ran into her mother at a shopping center.
“Anya, how are you? Sveta had a baby.”
“Congratulations.”
“She’d like to make peace with you.”
“What for?”
“You’re sisters.”
“Mom, I hold no grudge, but I don’t want to go back to how things were.”
“And how’s your personal life?”
“I’m seeing someone. It’s fairly serious.”
“If you need anything for the wedding…”
“Mom, stop. We’ll manage on our own.”
They parted politely but coolly.
A year later Anna and Mikhail—the colleague she’d been dating for six months—got married. A simple wedding among friends. Her parents didn’t come—they weren’t invited.
On the wedding day a message came from Sveta: “Congratulations! Wishing you happiness!”
Anna deleted the message. The past should stay in the past.
Now, three years later, she lives in her own apartment with her husband. She works as a department head and is saving for a dacha. Sometimes she thinks about her family, but those thoughts come rarely.
She has her own family—small, but real. Where she’s loved just because. Where her opinion matters. Where she doesn’t have to prove her right to be happy.
Anna no longer feels like a youthful mistake. She feels like a person who has the right to her own life. And that is the most valuable thing she has.
