I didn’t think twice when my younger brother, Darren, lost his job.
I sent him about $3,000 to help with groceries and rent, simply to buy him some time to get back on his feet. You do that for your family, don’t you? However, I’ve discovered the hard way that, until it’s too late, enabling someone and assisting them can appear to be very similar.
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I noticed Rita, Darren’s girlfriend, tagging herself in hip restaurants and posing with expensive designer handbags two weeks after I paid him the money. I made an effort to justify it by assuming the best about Darren. After that, I arrived home. I had lost my television. In the back of my closet were my emergency cash, a pair of sneakers, and my gaming system. The key was with Darren alone.
I gave him a call. Directly to voicemail. “Did you take my stuff?” I texted. Quiet. Darren had been crashing at our mom’s house, so I headed there the following morning. He was lying on the couch as if nothing had happened. “Where are my belongings?” I inquired. He didn’t recoil. I pawned it. Calm down—I’ll retrieve it once I resume my job. I was taken aback. “You stole from me after spending the money I gave you?”