AITA for Telling My Family They Can’t Use My Netflix Because I’m Flying to Europe?
So, I (28M) just made the worst financial decision of my life and booked a flight to Europe for a “bucket list” trip. I’m talking economy class, middle seat, no legroom, and a carry-on that’s basically a glorified fanny pack. I told my family the good news, thinking they’d be hyped for me. Instead, my mom asked if she could use my Netflix account while I’m gone. My sister chimed in, “Yeah, and can I borrow your noise-canceling headphones for the flight? You’re not using them.” I looked at my dad, who just shrugged and said, “Can you bring me back a fridge magnet?”
I lost it. I told them all they can’t use my Netflix, they can’t borrow my headphones, and I’m not bringing back a single souvenir because they clearly don’t give a flying F about my trip. My mom called me selfish. My sister said I’m “gatekeeping” a streaming service I’m not even using for two weeks. My dad just sighed and said I’m “overreacting.”
Now the whole family is giving me the silent treatment, and my aunt posted on Facebook that “some people don’t know how to share.” AITA?
Look, I get it—Netflix is basically a modern utility at this point, like water or electricity. But here’s the thing: I’m about to spend 14 hours in a pressurized metal tube with a stranger’s elbow in my ribcage, eating a “chicken or pasta” that tastes like regret. I’m paying $1,200 for the privilege of being treated like a sardine. And my family’s first thought is, “Ooh, free streaming while you’re gone?”
This isn’t about Netflix. It’s about the fact that nobody asked me a single question about my trip. Not “Where are you going?” Not “How long?” Not “Are you excited?” Just “Can I have your stuff?” I feel like I’m living in a sitcom where the main character is a doormat and the laugh track is just my own crying.
But then I started second-guessing myself. Am I actually being a dick? I mean, it’s not like I’m using the account while I’m on a plane. And my headphones are just sitting in my drawer. Maybe I am overreacting. But also, maybe my family sucks and I’m finally setting a boundary.
I decided to poll the internet, because nothing says “healthy conflict resolution” like asking strangers to judge your family drama. And Reddit, as always, delivered.
One user wrote: “YTA for flying to Europe in 2024. Have you seen the state of airlines? You’re basically paying for a hostage situation with a free pretzel.” Fair point. Another said: “NTA. Your family is treating you like a streaming service with legs. Cut them off. And I mean both Netflix and contact.” Someone else chimed in: “INFO: Are you also flying on Spirit? Because if so, YTA for contributing to humanity’s decline.”
But the real kicker came from a user who said: “ESH. You for thinking a flight to Europe is a ‘bucket list’ trip (it’s 2024, everyone’s done it), and your family for not realizing you’re clearly going through a mid-life crisis at 28. But seriously, just let them use Netflix. It’s not that deep.”
And that’s where I started to crack. Is it not that deep? Or is it actually that deep, and I’m just bad at communicating? Because here’s the thing: I’m not upset about Netflix. I’m upset that I feel invisible in my own family. I’m about to go on a trip that I’ve been saving for for two years, and nobody cares. They just want my leftovers.
But then I remembered: this is America. We don’t talk about feelings. We passive-aggressively post on social media and wait for validation from strangers. So here I am, asking you: AITA for telling my family they can’t use my Netflix because I’m flying to Europe?
And before you ask: yes, I’m still going on the trip. And yes, I’m bringing my headphones. And no, you can’t have my password.
Final Thoughts
Having followed aviation trends for years, it’s clear that the industry’s current turbulence—from labor shortages to climate pressure—isn't a temporary squall but a fundamental shift in how we define flight itself. The real story isn't just about delays or ticket prices; it's about the uncomfortable tension between our ingrained desire for global mobility and the harsh math of carbon budgets. Ultimately, flying will remain a privilege, but its future depends on whether we can innovate our way out of being a luxury that the planet can no longer afford.