An Unwanted Guest: When Hospitality Collides with a Ban
In a tiny town on the outskirts of Lyon, we arent just passing throughour stay is meant to last, at least until my maternity leave ends. Three months ago I gave birth to our daughter, Amélie, and ever since she has become the center of our world. Yet, instead of a gentle family rhythm, I feel trapped in a house ruled by my motherinlaw, while my own mother cant even come to see us.
Genevièves flat is roomythree rooms, a generous kitchen, a balcony It could comfortably accommodate four people. Antoine owns a share of it, yet we only take one bedroom so as not to inconvenience anyone. I breastfeed Amélie, we share a bed, and everyone seems to accept it. But daily life here has turned into a constant struggle. Geneviève isnt keen on cleaning, so the whole burden falls on me. Before the baby arrived I spent hours scrubbing years of dust, and now I keep the place in order at any costessential with a newborn. Washing, ironing, cooking all of that is my responsibility. Geneviève never even steps into the kitchen. Fortunately Amélie is placidshe either sleeps or coos in her crib while I hustle like an ant.
My motherinlaw contributes nothing. She used to at least wash the dishes, but now she leaves her dirty plates on the table and disappears. I stay silent to avoid fights, but inside Im boiling. Is it really that hard to rinse a bowl after soup? A trivial thing, yet it drives me mad. I clean, I cook, while she watches television or chats on the phone. I try to keep the peace, but each day drains me a little more.
Recently Geneviève announced she would travel to Provence in the autumn to see her familyher niece is getting married, and she wants to reunite with sisters and nephews. I was thrilled: finally Antoine, Amélie, and I alone, like a real family! The same day my mother, Élodie, called. She lives far away near Bordeaux and has never met her granddaughter. She missed us and wanted to visit. I was over the moonshe could hold Amélie, and I would feel a bit at home. Two pieces of good news, and I could hardly wait to share them that evening.
But my excitement vanished quickly. When I mentioned Moms visit, Genevièves face changed. I will not let strangers into my home while Im gone! she declared. Strangers? She was referring to my mother, Amélies grandmother! I was stunned. How could she treat my mother that way? Yes, theyre not close, but they did meet at our wedding. At that time we were renting, and Mom had stayed with us because Geneviève was housing distant relatives. That was three years agodoes that make her a total unknown now?
Geneviève dug in. She accused me of scheming with my mother, as if we were waiting for her departure to take over the apartment. She had already bought her tickets, but now she suspected Moms visit was anything but accidental. Your mother hasnt been in touch for two years and suddenly shows up? Too convenient! she shouted. I tried to explain that Mom simply wanted to see her granddaughter, but Geneviève remained unmoved. She threatened to cancel the trip to watch over her property, as if it were a palace of gold rather than a modest threeroom flat with faded wallpaper.
I told Mom everything, unable to keep it to myself. She was sad but suggested postponing her trip to the summer to avoid tension. Geneviève actually cancelled her travel plans. Now she roams the flat like a guardian, scrutinizing my every move, as if I were a potential thief. I feel humiliated. My mother, who longs to hold Amélie, must give up because of Genevièves whims. And I, legally on the lease, am not even allowed to invite my own family.
My heart tightens. I pour myself into this homecleaning, cooking, creating a pleasant atmosphereonly to receive suspicion and prohibitions in return. Antoine stays out of it, but I can see his discomfort. Whos right? Geneviève, defending her apartment like a fortress? Or me, simply wanting my mother to meet her granddaughter? My mother isnt a stranger; shes family. Yet Geneviève sees me as a threat and my wishes as traps. Im exhausted from living under her control, exhausted from feeling like a guest in what should be my home. This situation tears at my heart, and I have no clue how to escape without shattering everything.
