At first, everything seemed fine.
When my son Tomek and his wife Magda asked me if they could stay with me for a while, I didn't hesitate for a moment. Their apartment was flooded, and the renovation was supposed to take several months. „It's only for a moment, mom,– Tomek assured. “We won't bother you. You won't even feel it.” I believed him because he was my son, and a mother never says no to her child, right?
At first, everything seemed fine. Magda was kind, Tomek helped me with small household chores, and I was glad to have them close by. My house came alive – after years of loneliness, I could hear laughter and conversations again. But this harmony didn’t last long.
Over time, I noticed that their presence was beginning to overwhelm my life. Magda began to treat the house as if it were her own, moving furniture around without asking and changing the layout of the kitchen. “Mom, it’s more practical,” she would say when she saw my surprised look. Tomek, on the other hand, stopped helping with anything. “Mom, would you make me a sandwich?” he asked, sitting on the couch with his phone in his hand.
What hurt me most was how quickly their requests began to turn into expectations. “You haven't bought milk yet? I said I only drink plant milk,” Magda said when I returned from the store. “Mom, why isn't dinner ready yet? I had a hard day at work,” Tomek added, as if he had forgotten that I also had responsibilities.
I felt like I was losing control of my life. My days began to revolve around their needs. Cooking, cleaning up after their messes, shopping at their behest ” I felt more like their housekeeper than their mother and mother-in-law. When I tried to talk to them about it, I was met with misunderstanding.
„Mom, you always do the shopping anyway,– Tomek said, as if it were my duty to share the house with them. „Don't exaggerate, it's only temporary,– Magda added with a slight smile that seemed mocking. But this „temporariness” dragged on for months.
One day, when I came home from work, I saw that Magda had organized a meeting with her friends in my living room. They were sitting at my table, drinking wine I had bought, and there were cookie crumbs all over the couch. “Mom, would you make some more coffee?” Magda asked, as if it was obvious that I was supposed to serve her guests.
That was the moment when something inside me snapped. “No, Magda, I won't,” I said, feeling my anger growing with every passing second. “This is my home, and I am not your maid. I am tired of being treated like someone who is only here to please you.”
The room fell silent. Magda looked surprised, and Tomek entered the living room, trying to smooth things over. „Mom, don't exaggerate. It's just little things.”
„Little things?” I exploded. „You've taken over my home, my life, and I feel like I'm an addition to all of it. You promised it would be for a while, and now I feel like I don't have my place anymore.”
After that conversation, the atmosphere in the house was tense. Tomek and Magda stopped talking to me with a smile, and I felt that my words were treated as an attack. A few weeks later I found out that the renovation of their apartment had finished, but they still had no plans to move out. I had to make it clear.
„It's time for you to come back together,– I said firmly. „I need my home and my space back.”
Tomek was outraged. “Mom, how can you say that? After all, we are family.”
“It is precisely because we are family that I want you to understand my needs– I replied. “I love you, but that doesn't mean I can devote my entire life to your comfort.”
Today I am alone in my house again. Sometimes I think about this situation with regret, but I know that I did what I had to. Helping your family is important, but it should never mean giving up on yourself. There are boundaries that should not be crossed – even in the name of love.
See what else we've written about in recent days: From life. “Brother caused a huge scandal at father's funeral”: He thought dad liked me more