Two weeks after my younger sister Kayla arrived at our house heartbroken and nearly broke, I thought we were doing exactly what family should do. My husband Andrew and I gave her our guest room, food, and time to recover after her six-year relationship ended. At first, she was quiet and grateful. Then she started walking through our kitchen wearing nothing but a bath towel.
The first time, I ignored it. The second time, I asked her gently to wear a robe because Andrew was usually having coffee in the kitchen. She laughed and said he was my husband, so why should it matter? I told her it made me uncomfortable and asked her to respect that. She agreed, but the next morning she did it again. Eventually, I confronted her. Instead of apologizing, Kayla smiled and said, “Think of it as a test.” I stared at her, certain I had misunderstood. Then she explained exactly what she meant—and suddenly, this stopped being about a towel.