An Unwelcome Guest: When Hospitality Meets a Ban
In a small town near Lyon, we arent staying here just for a short spellwere here for the long haul, at least until my maternity leave ends. Three months ago I gave birth to our daughter Amélie, and since then she has become the centre of our world. Yet, instead of a gentle family rhythm, I feel like a prisoner in a house where my motherinlaw enforces her own rules and 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, yet we occupy only one bedroom so as not to disturb anyone. I breastfeed Amélie, we share a bed, and everyone seems to accept it. But daily life here has turned into a continuous struggle. Geneviève isnt a fan of cleaning, so everything falls to me. Before the baby arrived I spent hours scrubbing years of dust, and now I keep the place spotless at any costessential when a newborn is involved. Laundry, ironing, cooking all of that is my responsibility. Geneviève never even steps foot in the kitchen. Fortunately Amélie is calmshe either sleeps or coos in her crib while I buzz around like a worker ant.
My motherinlaw, on the other hand, doesnt lift a finger. She used to at least wash the dishes, but now she does nothing. She leaves her dirty plates on the table and disappears. I keep quiet to avoid clashes, but inside Im boiling. Is it really that hard to rinse a bowl after soup? A trivial thing that wears me down. I clean, I cook, while she watches TV or chats on the phone. I try to preserve the peace, yet each day drains me a little more.
Recently Geneviève announced she would leave in the autumn to visit her family in Provence. Her niece is getting married, and she wants to use the occasion to see her sisters and nephews. I was delighted: finally Antoine, Amélie and I would be 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 come. I was over the moonshe could hold Amélie, and I would feel a bit at home. A double dose of joy, and I couldnt wait for the evening to share the news.
But my happiness vanished quickly. When I mentioned my mothers visit, Genevièves expression changed. I will not allow strangers into my home while Im away! she declared. Strangers? She was talking about my mother, Amélies grandmother! I was stunned. How could she treat my mother that way? Sure, they arent close, but they did see each other at our wedding. At that time we were renting, and my mum had slept over because Geneviève was housing distant relatives. That was three years agodoes that make my mother a stranger now?
Geneviève became defensive. 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 my mothers visit was anything but accidental. Your mother hasnt been in touch for two years and suddenly shows up? Too easy! she shouted. I tried to explain that my mum simply wanted to meet her granddaughter, but Geneviève stayed unmoved. She threatened to cancel her trip to watch over her property, as if it were a goldfilled castle rather than a modest threeroom flat with faded wallpaper.
I told my mother everything, unable to keep it to myself. She was sad but suggested postponing her visit until summer to avoid the drama. Geneviève actually canceled her trip. Now she roams the flat like a guard, watching 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, who am legally on the lease, am not even allowed to invite my own family.
My heart aches. I pour myself into this house: cleaning, cooking, creating a warm atmosphere and all I receive in return is suspicion and bans. Antoine stays out of it, but I can tell hes uncomfortable. Who is right? Geneviève, who protects her apartment like a fortress? Or me, who only wants my mother to meet her granddaughter? My mother is not a stranger; she is family. Yet Geneviève sees me as a threat and my wishes as traps. I am 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 dont know how to get out of it without breaking everything.
