When my sister’s house flooded, I didn’t hesitate. I offered my place to her, her husband, and their 13-year-old son. We’ve always shown up for each other, and I believed it would be temporary.
I was wrong.
Almost immediately, my nephew ignored house rules — inviting friends over, blasting music at night, leaving messes. When I spoke up, he called me dramatic. My sister promised it would settle down.
It didn’t.
My brother-in-law treated our home like a hotel. Doors unlocked, AC running all day, groceries disappearing. Sleep became impossible. Every time I raised concerns, my sister said I was overthinking.
Then my partner noticed a sour smell in the house. After a costly inspection found nothing, I realized it followed my nephew. He’d stopped changing clothes. When I calmly asked him to shower, he exploded — yelling, slamming things, storming off. My sister comforted him.
That’s when it hit me: I had no authority in my own home.
I told them they needed to leave.
They cried, said they had nowhere to go, but I gave them two days. They moved in with our parents.
Now my sister won’t speak to me. Some relatives say family should endure anything.
I helped because I cared.
But was I supposed to lose my peace to prove it?
