“My Mom Gave Me Her Old House 10 Years Ago: Now I Can’t Escape Her”

Ten years ago, my mom handed me the keys to her old house. It was a charming, albeit slightly run-down, two-story home in a quiet neighborhood. At the time, I was overjoyed. My husband and I had just welcomed our first child, and the thought of raising him in a house with a yard and plenty of space was a dream come true. Little did I know that this gift would come with strings attached—strings that would eventually feel like chains.

My mom had always been a bit overbearing, but I never imagined how much worse it could get. Initially, she would visit once a week, bringing groceries or homemade meals. It was helpful and kind, and I appreciated her efforts. But as time went on, her visits became more frequent and intrusive.

One day, she showed up unannounced while I was at work. My husband, who works from home, was startled to find her rearranging our living room furniture. When he asked what she was doing, she simply replied, “This is my house too, you know.”

I tried to set boundaries, but it was like talking to a wall. She would show up with bags of groceries we didn’t need or start cleaning rooms that were already spotless. She even began to criticize my parenting, saying things like, “In my day, we didn’t let babies cry like that,” or “You should really be feeding him more vegetables.”

The breaking point came last month. My mom came over to see her grandson, as she often did. I asked her if she wanted some coffee. She looked at me with tears welling up in her eyes and said, “Why are you asking? Isn’t it obvious that I’m back?” She then burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably.

I was stunned. What did she mean by “back”? Was she planning to move in? The thought sent chills down my spine. I tried to comfort her, but she pushed me away and stormed out of the house.

Since that day, things have only gotten worse. She calls multiple times a day, leaving voicemails filled with guilt-tripping messages. “I gave you that house because I thought you’d appreciate it,” she says. “But clearly, you don’t want me around.”

My husband and I have had countless arguments about what to do. He suggests selling the house and moving far away, but the market is terrible right now, and we can’t afford to take a loss. Plus, this is our home. Our son has friends here; we’ve built a life here.

I’ve tried talking to my mom about how her behavior is affecting us, but she just doesn’t get it. She sees herself as a loving mother and grandmother who is just trying to help. But her “help” feels more like control.

Last week, she showed up with a suitcase. “I’m moving in,” she announced as if it were the most natural thing in the world. My heart sank. I knew that if she moved in, there would be no escaping her constant presence and criticism.

I told her that we needed our space and that she couldn’t just move in without discussing it with us first. She looked at me with a mixture of hurt and anger and said, “Fine. If you don’t want me here, I’ll go.” She left the suitcase and walked out the door.

Now, every time I see that suitcase sitting in the corner of our living room, I’m reminded of the impossible situation we’re in. My mom’s gift has turned into a curse, and I don’t know how to break free from it.