
I have a coworker who has two kids and is always struggling financially. Most of the time, I end up paying for her breakfast and lunch—probably about 95% of the time. She also frequently asks to “borrow” money, usually in amounts between $20 and $50. The largest amount I’ve lent her was $250.
I’m not exactly rolling in cash myself, but since I don’t have kids, the little extra money I do have for myself often ends up going to her instead. Now, things have escalated. Today, we’re supposed to go to the bank so I can open a loan in my name, with the intention of giving her the full amount. My credit is excellent (hers isn’t, so the loan would only get approved under my name), and the plan is to link her bank account for repayments.
But here’s the problem: if she’s already struggling financially, how on earth is she going to pay it off? I’m afraid it’s going to fall on me when she inevitably can’t make the payments. My gut is screaming at me not to do this. The truth is, I don’t even feel comfortable taking out a loan for myself, let alone for someone else.
The only reason I’ve gone along with it this far is because I’m a people pleaser—I have a really hard time saying no, especially when someone’s in need. But this situation has me feeling uneasy, and I honestly don’t know how to tell her I’ve changed my mind.
Any advice would be greatly appreciated.
Stop. Right. Now.
You already know the answer—you just don’t want to feel like the “bad guy” for saying it out loud. Your gut is screaming at you because your gut is right. You’re about to set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm, and the only outcome is that you’ll both end up burned.
You are not this woman’s safety net, her bank, or her bailout plan. You are her coworker. That’s it. She’s made her financial choices, and she needs to live with them. You taking out a loan in your name for someone else—especially someone who’s already proven they can’t handle money—is financial suicide. It’s not generosity anymore; it’s self-sabotage.
Let’s call this what it is: manipulation through guilt. She knows you’re a people-pleaser and that you have a soft spot. She’s been testing your boundaries for a while, and each time you said “yes,” she learned she could push a little further. The $20 became $50, then $250… and now she’s asking you to risk your credit score and future for her? That’s not friendship—that’s exploitation.
Here’s how you stop it:
Tell her, “I thought about it, and I’m not comfortable taking out a loan. I wish you the best, but I can’t do this.” You don’t owe her a detailed explanation. You don’t owe her an apology. You owe yourself protection from a massive mistake.
She’ll probably get upset. She might guilt-trip you, say she has no one else, maybe even try to make you feel heartless. That’s okay. Let her be upset. Adults are allowed to be disappointed. What she does next is her responsibility—not yours.
You need to learn this now: Being kind doesn’t mean being a doormat.
Saying “no” to someone else is often saying “yes” to your own self-respect.
So do the hard thing—the right thing—and walk away from this financial disaster before it becomes yours.
