It starts with the illusion of safety, the quiet promise that some places are meant to feel like home. But when those places feel more like a trap, when the very walls meant to protect start closing in, the weight of it all sinks in. The silent demands, the rules that shift like quicksand, the debts that can never be repaid, none of it ever evens out.

Nothing is ever enough. No matter how much you give, how much you sacrifice, the tally always favors the other side. Gratitude is expected but never reciprocated. You could move mountains, break your back, pour your soul into something, and still, someone would find a way to be unimpressed. The moment you stop bending over backward, suddenly you’re the villain. Suddenly, you’re selfish.

And the control, oh, the control! It’s not the obvious kind. No one’s coming at you with chains and a...