When Clare got drunk and backed Dad’s car into a fence, it was a “learning experience.” When I forgot to refill the gas tank, I was lectured on “responsibility.” She switched college majors three times; I took on two jobs to pay my tuition. He bailed her out of credit card debt and then asked me to cover the utilities to “rebalance the household.” I had been conditioned to believe that love was earned through sacrifice, that my worth was measured by how much I could endure without complaint. I had taught them how to treat me, not by speaking up, but by absorbing their neglect and calling it love.