Taken from Life. “I Came Back from Abroad After 30 Years”: The House I Built Is No Longer Mine

After 30 years of working abroad, I decided to return permanently.

The decision to go abroad was a joint decision – mine and my husband, Andrzej. I left the children in his care and went to Germany to earn money for our dream house. We had one dream – to build a place that would be our shelter, that would become a home for us and our children. I worked day and night, sending money for each stage of construction. The foundations, the roof, the windows – everything was created thanks to my work and sacrifices.

I saw my family rarely over the years. I returned a few times for the holidays, but I spent most of my time in a foreign country, missing my loved ones and our home, which I had only seen in the photos Andrzej sent me. I trusted him. He was my husband, the father of our children. The house was in his name – “because it would be easier,” as he put it when we signed the papers.

After 30 years of working abroad, I decided to return for good. I hoped that now that the children were grown and Andrzej and I could enjoy peaceful years, I would find in this home the happiness I had worked so hard for. But the reality turned out to be different.

When I crossed the threshold of the house, I felt that something was wrong. Andrzej did not greet me with the joy I had expected. In his eyes I saw a coldness that I had not known before. I soon learned the truth.

– Ania, we need to talk– he said, looking at me with a mixture of shame and nervousness.

– What's going on, Andrzej? – I asked, not yet sensing what I was about to hear.

– The house… is no longer ours– he said, avoiding my gaze. – I had to sign it over to our son. I was in a difficult financial situation and it was the only option.

– What? – I choked out, feeling the ground slip from under my feet. – You signed the house? This house we built together? Over to my son? Without my knowledge?

– It was a difficult decision, – he explained. – But it was necessary.

I couldn't believe his words. I worked for 30 years for this house, I sacrificed everything – time, health, family life – so that we could build it. And now I find out that it no longer belongs to me.?

A few days later I tried to talk to our son.

– Mateusz, this house was my job, my life, – I said, trying to stay calm. – Can't you really see that what your father did was unfair?

– Mom, your father said it was your joint decision, – Mateusz replied, avoiding my gaze. – Besides, you left. He was the one running everything here.

Those words hurt me more than anything else. Did my own child think I had no right to the house I spent years building? Was my work abroad invisible because I wasn't here every day?

For the next few weeks I lived in this house as a guest. Every corner reminded me of my sacrifice, of my dreams that now seemed like just a memory. Andrzej acted as if nothing had happened, and Mateusz avoided talking about it.
Finally I gathered my courage and made it clear.

– Andrzej, I worked for this house for 30 years. You had everything here thanks to my money. If you think I'm going to leave it like this, you're wrong.

– Ania, what do you expect from me? – he asked irritably. – It was our decision, and now you're trying to play the victim.

– Our decision? – I screamed. – You never asked me. You never gave me a chance to decide.

I realized that the fight for this house was not only a fight for material possessions, but above all for my sense of dignity. Could I get it back? I don't know. But I knew one thing – I will not allow 30 years of my life to be reduced to „unnecessary effort”.

I started looking for legal help, although I knew the case could be difficult. But what I had built over the years was worth fighting for – if not for a home, then at least for my place in this family that I thought I had lost. Because sometimes you have to stand up for yourself, even when it seems like everything is already lost.

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