Your Space, Your Rules, A PSA For Anyone Letting Someone Stay In Their Home

So, I debated whether or not I was going to share this, but this is life. Shit happens. If anyone can relate or avoid a bad situation because they read this blog, then I’ve done my job. Also, I want to get some things off my chest and this is my blog, so I can do a little venting if I want to.

This is for anyone thinking about having a family member or friend move in with them, take heed. By reading this, you may avoid some future headaches.

Last year, a family member reached out and said they and their partner needed some help. As Halloween approached, we geared up to make some space for them. Ah, October. The month of falling leaves, pumpkin spice everything, and… people moving in with three cats. We generously opened our home because they needed a helping hand. The plan was simple: give them a rent-free, worry-free space to get back on their feet. But oh, the journey was anything but simple.

We are not exactly what you’d call “strict rule-followers or enforcers.” Our lives are a beautiful whirlwind of creativity, spontaneity, and a bit of chaos. But we decided to set a few basic guidelines to keep our sanctuary safe and harmonious. Four rules, to be exact:

1. Clean up after yourself and respect the space – because, seriously, we are busy artists, not maids.
2. Voice any concerns immediately – no room for passive-aggressive silent treatments here.
3. Be mindful of our schedule in shared spaces – an hour-long live stream is hard to do when you’re doing the pee-pee dance.
4. No food upstairs – because crumbs in the bed are a nightmare nobody wants to live through.

Spoiler alert: Every single rule was broken.

Ok, here’s the venting part… and yes, all this stuff actually happened.

The Mount Everest of Mess

First, the cleanliness. Or should I say, the lack thereof. Our shared spaces turned into scenes from a post-apocalyptic movie. At first, dishes piled up like we were training for the World Dish Stacking Championship. Outdoor furniture became engulfed by a mountain of smoked butts, and the ashtray overflowed like a smoky volcano. Inside the house? Well, let’s just say we were unaware of the fact that we became involuntary hosts of an unplanned indoor smoking lounge on the third floor.

The Great Communication Blackout

Rule number two, communication, went out the window faster than their cats chasing a laser pointer (Don’t get me started on the litterbox smell that would seep into the house monthly). Not a peep about their plans, their issues, or their thoughts. Instead, we received the silent treatment, the kind that made us feel like we were living in a suspense thriller. Every creak of the floorboards was a mystery, every glance (or lack thereof) a puzzle. It felt like living in an emotional haunted house where the ghosts were passive-aggressive. When I finally said something about having a conversation to clear the air, I was told that being forced to talk about things was “triggering.” This caused me to back off which was a big mistake. My backing off caused minimal communication to become virtually nonexistent. 

Schedule? What Schedule?

And the schedule awareness? Nonexistent. Imagine gearing up for a live stream, nerves buzzing, creativity ready to flow, and bam! Both bathrooms are occupied. Having to pee does not make for a good pre-show warm-up. Timing became a daily gamble with laundry, bathrooms, and kitchen. Our productivity took a nosedive.

The Laundry Room Battleground

The laundry room became a battleground of epic proportions. We had graciously dedicated three days for them to use the laundry room and kept four days for ourselves, because Klee has a whole day dedicated to washing every towel in the house (and don’t get me started on the number of showers they took—our water bill saw such heights, that the water company sent people out to see what was going on). They would leave their laundry languishing well past their allotted days, and communication? Nonexistent. With our busy schedule, it became a frustrating mess. We naively assumed that, given their ample free time (ahem, no job), laundry timing wouldn’t be an issue. What we didn’t anticipate was the passive-aggressive laundry schedule war that ensued, complete with silent standoffs and dirty looks over dirty clothes.

The Upstairs Food Festival

The upstairs food rule was ignored. Our sanctuary turned into a buffet. Crumbs, condiments, mystery stains, and plates appear in places no plates should ever be. I’m pretty sure we found a whole ecosystem developing in their room. There were times when on their way up to the room, they would spill something in our hallway and then keep quiet about it. It was just weird. When I finally said to please eat dinner in the kitchen, I was told that eating in the kitchen was “triggering.”

The Dishes Debacle

At one point, I finally had to say something about the dishes. “Hey guys, please clean up after yourselves in the kitchen, I think it’s unfair that I’m doing any of your dishes and cleaning up after you.” The response? I was told once more that it was “triggering.” Ah, yes, the ol’ “your cleanliness standards are emotionally distressing” defense. The dish situation did get a little better after that confrontation, but even then, I found myself re-washing the “clean” dishes. Apparently, soap and water had become optional.

The Smoking Paraphernalia Scandal

When I finally mentioned the smoking paraphernalia mess taking over our outdoor seating area, the response was to hide stuff under the chairs instead of actually removing it. We discovered the extent of this creative tidying method in the most embarrassing way possible. A crew came over to film us for a documentary, and unbeknownst to us, the pile of nastiness was in full view beneath our feet. Nothing like a mountain of dirty smoking paraphernalia to add some character to your on-screen presence!

The Vacuum Cat-astrophe

Ah, the vacuum debacle! Imagine our shock when we discovered they were using our cleaning supplies and vacuum to clean their litterbox but never bothered to clean out the vacuum. They never used the vacuum to tackle the random debris they scattered around the house (seriously, how does one person leave so much debris everywhere?), but they did use it in their room. Eventually, our trusty vacuum was transformed into a fur-filled disaster, utterly useless thanks to cat hair clogging every nook and cranny. This was another delightful detail they failed to communicate. I discovered the extent of the cat-astrophe when I tried to vacuum up debris and found our vacuum was as useful as a wax teapot.

The Shoe Pile Phenomenon

Among other special quirks, they left a heaping pile of shoes on every shoe tray. Seriously, it was just the two of them, so why were there 18 pairs of shoes piled by the door, rendering the shoe tray unusable for everyone else in the house? When I finally said something, I was hit with zero response. They removed some shoes that day, but they slowly grew to their former glory soon after. It was like a mini-shoe mountain that grew larger every day.

The Trap Illiteracy and Toilet Paper Conundrum

I’m not sure they knew what a drain trap or lint trap was, judging by the constant clogs and laundry mishaps. And although this might seem petty, there is a correct way to put the toilet paper on the roll. By the way, it wasn’t because they ever changed the roll—no, that never happened. They would, however, remove the roll every time they used the bathroom. I am still baffled by this behavior.

The Music Mutiny

We usually play uplifting music, instrumental meditations, or audiobooks as we go through our creative day. This was apparently also triggering. So, the house became this weird, silent place. They would also wear headphones all the time so they wouldn’t have to interact with us. Did I mention how this whole thing was just the weirdest thing I have ever experienced?

The Writing Room Takeover

You guys know how I’m writing a book? Think again. Somehow, my writing room was taken over. I blame myself; I did tell them, “Hey, you can use this room for stuff, just let me know when you need it because I have a book I’m releasing soon and will need access.” Well, I’m guessing this meant the room was now theirs to leave their stuff strewn about, break lamps, and randomly lock themselves in there. Eventually, when they were in the midst of giving us the silent treatment, I took my room back, but I am dangerously close to my book deadline and haven’t worked on the book.

The Grand Exit

When they finally moved out, declaring that we were too triggering and emotionally hard to live with, they left us a parting gift: a nice reminder of their idea of cleanliness. Our home was graced with remnants of their stay, like a poltergeist who loves watching us pick up after it. To top it off, they took something personal to me. I’m sure they think they suffered under our tyrannical rule, but honestly, I don’t care, I’m just glad that they are out. 

The Biggest Lesson I Learned From All Of This: Speak Up

Klee and I spent the last eight months trying to be as understanding as possible. Unfortunately, this meant letting a lot of things slide. Eventually, things pile up. It got to the point that we both felt uncomfortable in our own house. Speak up when someone is not respecting your sanctuary. A lot of this could have been avoided if I hadn’t been wearing kid gloves or acting like a doormat. Your space is sacred, and it deserves to be treated with respect. Don’t be afraid to assert your boundaries and protect your peace.

Allowing Time to Heal

After such an ordeal, we are allowing ourselves time to heal. It’s important to take a step back, breathe, and reclaim your space emotionally and physically. Healing is a process, and giving ourselves the time to do so is crucial for moving forward positively.

The Takeaway: Guard Your Sacred Space

So, what did we learn from this chaotic, rule-breaking, silent-treatment-giving adventure? Your space is sacred. Be fiercely protective of it. Set clear boundaries and enforce them, no matter who you are dealing with. Here are a few more nuggets of wisdom:

• Communicate Clearly and Often: Don’t assume everyone is on the same page. Spell things out and check in regularly.
• Don’t Compromise on Cleanliness: Especially, when you find yourself feeling like a maid. 
• Be Mindful of Schedules: Respect each other’s time and needs, especially in shared spaces.
• Keep Food in Its Place: Trust me, you don’t want to discover what happens when food ventures into uncharted territories.

In the end, we survived. Our space is ours again, a sanctuary where creativity can flow freely, and we’ve got some pretty wild stories to tell. If nothing else, we’ve learned to cherish our home and the peace it brings. And next time, we’ll be a bit more discerning about who gets to share it.

Remember: your space, your rules!