“Oh, what a nightmare!” I almost shouted at my sisterinlaw, but I held back. And once again she shows up with her weekend suitcase
“I’m fed up!” I nearly screamed at my husbands sister. I clenched my teeth. And she, in reply, arrives again with her weekend bag
My name is Élodie, Im thirtynine. Ive been married to Thibault for twelve years. We have a fairly solid family, our son is growing, everything seems fine. Yet theres a but that has been poisoning my life for years: his sister, Juliette.
Juliette is eight years older than Thibault. Shes never married, has no children. She lives alone in the house across the street and actually also lives with us. Im not exaggerating. She appears in our flat like a shadowsilent, insistent, every day. Sometimes I feel Juliette has an endless supply of keys to our building.
At first I tried to be polite, even nice. After all, shes my husbands sister, family. I told myself she would drop by, chat, have tea and leave. But she came every night. And on weekends. And during our holidays. Even when we had other guests. When I was ill, she was there.
Juliette knows no boundaries. She comments on everything: my cooking, the way we raise our son, my wardrobe. Either Im too quiet, or I laugh too loudly, my cake is too dry, the flat messy. Most of all, she doesnt ask, she demands. And I endure it. Because I hate conflict. Because Thibault says, Élodie, make an effort, shes alone, were all she has.
I waited. But patience has limits.
Juliette works as an accountant for a private company. She finishes work before me and goes straight to our place. I get homeshes already settled on the couch, TV on, the cat hidden under the bed. My son glued to his phone. And she, as if she owned the place. Dinner waits for her. Or I have to wait for her to free the bathroom. She eats with us, then babbles for hours about her tax adventures, which nobody listens to. Then she leaves. Occasionallyshe stays overnight because she fears thunderstorms or the heating at her place doesnt work right.
When we planned a getaway, Juliette came along. No matter that I dreamed of a romantic weekend. No matter that Thibault promised me a seaside escape for my birthday. Juliette was there. In the hotel room. Under the same roof. Everything paid by Thibault. Yet she earns well, saves for hard days, as she says. Apparently, she thinks the hard day is me.
Thibaults mother calls me ungrateful. Juliette isnt a stranger, shes alone and needs us, she says. I understand she has no husband or children. But why should I sacrifice my own comfort?
One time I dared to tell Thibault:
Ive had enough. She crosses every line. Shes everywhere. Its unbearable!
He shrugged:
What can I do? Shes my sister
Recently it reached a breaking point. We went to the theatre, just the two of us. I had insisted on that night. A friend was babysitting our son. No sooner had we settled into our seats the phone rang. Juliette.
Where are you? Why didnt you invite me? Do you want to erase me from your life? she shouted over the phone.
Two days later she showed up again. With her bag, her nightshirt, her favorite series. My weekend is free, Ive decided to spend it with you, she announced.
I was standing in the kitchen, hands clenched on the tabletop. I held back my scream. I stayed silent. But something snapped inside me.
I dont know how to tell Thibault that I cant take it any longer. That I need a home without a third adult. Without constant advice. Without drama. Without Juliette.
And I fear that, if nothing changes, Ill end up leavingto find my breath again. Because even love cant survive when another life intrudes between you and your husband. Too noisy. Too invasive. Too foreign.
Today I realized one thing: you cant build happiness on silence. Boundaries must be set, even with family. No one should live imprisoned by forced generosity.
Oh, I’ve Had Enough!” I Almost Burst Out to My Sister-in-Law, But I Held My Tongue. And Here She Comes Again with Her Suitcase for the Weekend…
