Five years ago, my husband and I were living in a cramped single-bedroom flat with our two children. It was easy to see that our growing family desperately needed more space, but up until then, our plans were just idle conversations with little action.
Everything changed when we found out we were expecting our third child. Suddenly, hunting for a larger home became a necessity. Our only feasible option was to sell our current flat and, by adding whatever savings we could muster, hopefully afford a three-bedroom place, even if it meant moving to the outskirts of town.
And so we did. We sold the one-bedroom flat and managed to purchase a lovely three-bedroom in an old Victorian building. The place had been beautifully renovated, so all that was left was to bring in our furniture and settle in.
For a while, life seemed almost perfectuntil our neighbours from the upper floors banded together and made it clear they considered themselves the self-proclaimed rulers of the building.
We were bombarded with endless complaints and grievances.
Why do you leave the main door open so long? theyd chide.
Were carrying boxes in, wed explain, so it has to stay open for a bit.
Why do you park your car under my windows? another would nag.
I live on the first floor, I replied, so thats the only spot near enough. Your windows are above mine, I cant exactly help that.
The grumbling went on and on. Then came another complaint that truly tested my patience:
Your children run wild when they return from nursery; its disruptive! And you let them watch cartoons.
How could that possibly disturb you? I asked. You live above us.
But the real breaking point came when my neighbours decided to confront my heavily pregnant wifedue to give birth in just a month. They dropped by one afternoon when I was out, raising their voices and airing new accusations.
Were here to talk.
What about?
Your husband, when stepping out for a cigarette, let a strange man into the building. That man started going door to door offering to copy key fobs for the entry system.
My husband doesnt smoke, my wife protested (which is trueI never have, and never will). They carried on, insisting that this man could now get into the building at will, all because of us.
When I returned home and heard what had happened, I marched upstairs and made it clear, rather brusquely, that enough was enough and wed stand for it no longer.
After that incident, tensions faded and we learned to live alongside one another, even if our neighbours no longer greeted us in the hallway.
What this all taught me is that when people try to assert power over others, it often stems from their own insecurities. Standing up for yourself is important, but sometimes, true peace comes simply from setting boundariesand letting go of the need for everyones approval.
