I had just rented a new apartment at an incredible price. The landlord was kind, and that made me feel lucky and happy. I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize this new, comfortable arrangement.

One evening, my work crush—someone I admired deeply—asked if she could stay for the night. I hesitated, thinking about whether my landlord would approve, but she reassured me it was just for a night. My feelings for her won out, and I agreed, not wanting her to feel frustrated or unwelcome.

Morning came, but she made no move to leave. That’s when worry crept in. By the third day, she was still there, acting like the apartment was hers. She had taken over my bed, leaving me to sleep on the cold floor.

Her presence began to consume my space and peace. Some nights, expensive cars would pull up to the apartment, and she’d leave with the drivers, only to return the next day like nothing happened. I wanted to ask her to leave, but I didn’t know how to approach it.

Finally, I gathered my courage and said, “You told me it was for one night. Why are you still here?”

Her reaction was instant and sharp: “Why are you on my neck? It’s not like this house is any good. I said I’ll leave, so leave me alone! Who said I even want to be here anyway?”

Her words silenced me. I watched helplessly as she invited another friend to move in. They made the apartment filthy, slept on my bed, and ignored me completely. Sometimes men would bring them food, which they devoured alongside my groceries, leaving me with nothing. My respect and affection for her evaporated, replaced by frustration and resentment.

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One day, I couldn’t take it anymore. I called my mother and explained everything, asking for her help. She didn’t say much, and I assumed she wouldn’t intervene.

But early one morning, there was loud knocking at my door. I opened it to find my mother, standing firm with fire in her eyes. She stormed in, confronted the girls, and gave them a piece of her mind. Her words were sharp, and her presence commanding. She didn’t just ask them to leave—she made sure they knew they were no longer welcome.

Within minutes, they were out, belongings in tow, and I could breathe again.

I used to think my mother was too stern, but in that moment, I saw her strength as a blessing.  I love her even more for stepping in when I couldn’t stand up for myself.