Stop Letting Sh*t Slide
- Mone

- May 5
- 4 min read
There’s this idea that being quiet is the mature thing to do. That if you let things go, you’re choosing peace. You’re being kind. You’re being understanding. But sometimes… you’re just teaching people what you’ll tolerate. And I didn’t realize how often I was doing that until it started to feel like a pattern, not a one-off. I’m a wife and a mother with my own responsibilities. So, when I go out of my way to show up for someone, it’s intentional. It means something.
I have a family member who’s recently injured, and when his 30th birthday came around, I felt for him. He couldn’t celebrate the way most people would, so I reached out and asked what he liked. I wanted to do something thoughtful. In my head, I’m thinking something simple—a nice hygiene kit, or maybe a Fire Stick. Something useful, something considerate. Do you know what he requested? A freaking iPad. I don't even own an iPad. No one in my home does.
Just like that. No hesitation. No “if that’s too much I understand.” Just… an iPad.
I remember pausing, thinking, okay… who does he think I am? But I didn’t say anything. I let it slide—and I definitely didn’t buy an iPad. I still put something together. A shave kit, a Fire Stick that was on sale, and a cool Amazon snack box since we don’t live in the same state. I knew how important turning 30 felt for me, and I wanted to make it at least a little special for him. I thought "okay I had done some of my good in the world this month." Not good enough, apparently.
A few days later, he texted me asking me to send DoorDash money so he could “treat himself” to the new wings at KFC. With my money. I was genuinely thrown off. I never offered that. And I didn’t send it—because that was just… over the top for me. It didn't end there though. There were other times where he’d just send an Apple Pay request. No “hey.” No conversation. Just a notification.
And it wasn’t just me by the way.
Now, I understand his situation is a bit limiting. I really do. But being physically disabled doesn’t remove basic manners. It doesn’t cancel out consideration.
And if I’m being honest, none of it sat right with me. But I kept letting it slide. Because I didn’t want to make him feel bad. Because I told myself he’s going through a lot. Because I didn’t want to come off insensitive. Even though I wasn't giving in to every request. I was still outwardly saying I am not okay with this. But at some point, I had to be real with myself.
His condition didn’t make him inconsiderate. My silence just made it easier for him to be.
And that’s the part people don’t like to admit. When you don’t address something, it doesn’t stay small. It grows. It shifts. What started as me trying to be thoughtful turned into him expecting things. Reaching out only when he wanted something. Skipping basic respect like a simple “hey.” And I felt that shift—from giving freely… to feeling taken advantage of.
That feeling doesn’t come out of nowhere. It builds quietly.
Eventually, I had to say something. Not in a disrespectful way, not trying to argue—just being clear. I told him it didn’t feel good to only be contacted when he needed something. That it felt inconsiderate. That the least he could do was acknowledge me as a person, not just a resource. And honestly, I should’ve said it sooner. Because speaking up wasn’t me being mean. It was me finally being honest. I think a lot of people confuse confrontation with aggression—like it has to be loud or dramatic because it doesn't.
Sometimes it’s just saying what’s true before it turns into resentment. Addressing something while it’s still small instead of waiting until you’re frustrated.
And recognizing that you can care about someone’s situation and still expect basic respect.
Both can exist. That situation made me step back and look at other areas in my life, too. Because if I’m being real, this wasn’t the first time I let something slide that I shouldn’t have.
It was just the one that made it obvious. At a certain point, I had to take a break from that relationship. Not out of anger, but because I felt drained. And that’s usually the sign.
When something keeps bothering you and you keep pushing it down, it doesn’t go away. It just changes how you show up. So now, I move differently. Not everything needs a reaction. But some things do need a response. And if something feels off, I don’t rush to ignore it just to keep things smooth—because keeping things smooth on the surface while things build underneath never actually works. Some conversations aren’t comfortable. But avoiding them doesn’t make them disappear.
It just delays them.





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