My Mom, Brother, and SIL Made My Life Hell After Moving Into My House—I Endured Them for Months Until I Finally Put Them in Their Place
After my dad’s death, I inherited our family home, but my mom and brother, Tyler, treated it as theirs. When Tyler and his pregnant wife, Gwen, moved in uninvited, I became their maid—cooking, cleaning, and running errands, met with entitlement and ingratitude. Mom’s coldness and their demands, like eating my birthday cupcakes and my dinner, pushed me to the edge. They called me selfish, demanding I leave my house for their comfort.
One night, after Gwen ate my dinner and they mocked my hunger, I’d had enough. I called my Uncle Bob, who offered to buy the house. “Sell it,” I decided, needing them gone. The next day, I announced the sale, giving them 48 hours to leave. Their protests—guilt trips and threats—couldn’t sway me. I stayed with a friend until they left, then finalized the $2 million sale. I bought a cozy cottage, free from their toxicity, and blocked their numbers. Dad would be proud, Uncle Bob said, not for selling, but for standing up. Family is about respect, and I walked away from those who gave me none.
