Tetyana adjusted the pillow behind her back and pressed the phone to her ear with a gentle smile. Outside the window of her spacious three-room apartment, the setting sun painted the living room walls with warm shades of orange.
“Marina, I’m leaning towards Turkey,” Tetyana said, flipping through a glossy travel catalog. “A five-star hotel, all inclusive.
“Tanya, it’s been two years since your divorce,” Marina’s voice sounded firm. “You need something more exotic. Both of us do.”
As Tetyana admired photos of pristine white beaches, she smiled softly.
“Turkey sounds perfect for me. Sea, sun, buffet. What more do you need for happiness?”
“A man! A decent man, not like your ex. Let’s go to Thailand. The excursions there are incredible! And the people are fascinating,” Marina insisted.
Tetyana rose from the sofa and walked over to the window, glancing at her new Volkswagen parked in the courtyard. A quiet residential area, her own apartment, a car, a stable job as a department manager in a large company — all that she had dreamed of.
“I’ll think about it,” she smiled. “Let’s meet at our café tomorrow and discuss options.”
After ending the call, Tetyana decided to prepare dinner. She switched on her favorite jazz playlist and opened the refrigerator. The evening promised to be calm and pleasant.
Her phone rang just as she was finishing her meal. Looking at the screen, her expression darkened. “Mom” flashed on the display. Her hand froze above the phone.
Their last conversation was two weeks prior and ended tensely. Tetyana’s brother, Serhiy, had found yet another “promising business” needing investment.
“Tetyanko, it’s just twelve and a half thousand hryvnias,” her mother said quickly, as if afraid Tetyana would hang up. “Serhiy promised to pay it back.”
“Like the previous three loans?” Tetyana barely masked her irritation. “Mom, I’m not a bank. I don’t want to fund his reckless ideas anymore.”
Her mother responded with loud accusations, claiming Tetyana was selfish, neglecting family, and that Serhiy would ruin himself without her support. The call ended with shouting and abrupt disconnection.
The phone kept ringing. Tetyana muted it and set it aside. Five minutes later it rang again. Then again, and again.
“What on earth?” Tetyana muttered, staring at the blinking screen.
Throughout the evening, her mother called ten times. Each missed call added to the discomfort weighing on Tetyana’s chest, but she remained resolute.
At work the next morning, Tetyana noticed five more missed calls from her mother.
“Are you alright?” asked Olga, her deputy, noticing the troubled look on Tetyana’s face. “You seem worried.”
“Family stuff,” Tetyana replied curtly, diving back into her work documents.
As the week passed, the situation deteriorated. Her mother called multiple times daily. No texts, just persistent calls, all of which Tetyana avoided. On Sunday, her father joined in.
“Daughter, please answer,” came his voice on the home phone’s answering machine. “Mom is worried. We need to talk.”
Tetyana deleted the message without listening.
“Enough already,” she said, turning up the TV volume. “I’ve had enough of these talks.”
She anticipated what “talk” meant: more pleading, reminders to help her brother, accusations of coldness and selfishness. Giving in now would mean throwing money away.
On Monday morning, a call woke her up — from her father. She silenced the phone and began preparing for work. The screen showed 27 missed calls over the weekend.
“They’re trying to wear me down,” Tetyana whispered, slipping the phone into her bag. “But they won’t succeed.”
At the office, a new project and quarterly plan discussions awaited her. This was the stable life she rebuilt post-divorce — a life without manipulation and empty promises.
In the evening, after returning home, Tetyana checked her answering machine. Five new messages, all from her parents.
“Tanya, pick up,” her father’s weary voice urged. “It’s important.”
Tetyana shook her head and deleted all messages. Not today. Perhaps never.
Saturday morning brought a sharp knock on the door. Half-asleep, Tetyana glanced at the clock — 7:30. Reluctantly, she rose and threw on a robe.
In the hallway, she mechanically opened the door without looking through the peephole. Immediately, she knew this was a mistake.
“Tanechka!” her mother, Valentyna Serhiivna, exclaimed, dragging a huge bag inside. “Finally! We thought you wouldn’t even open the door!”
Behind her followed her father, Mykola Petrovych, carrying two suitcases and a backpack.
“Hello, daughter,” he nodded, smiling apologetically.
Tetyana froze by the door, unable to utter a word. Meanwhile, her mother had already shrugged off her coat and stepped deeper inside.
“Oh, what a beautiful living room!” her mother admired, looking around. “And that sofa! It must have been expensive.”
She ran her hand along the leather upholstery then wandered into the kitchen.
“All the appliances are new! Dishwasher, oven… And look at this huge refrigerator! Mom and I never had anything like this.”
Valentyna Serhiivna peeked into the bedroom.
“Look, Kolya, what a luxurious bed! And that mirrored wardrobe! Tanya, what’s this room?”
“My office,” Tetyana finally managed. “Wait! What’s going on here? Why are you here with your things?”
The parents exchanged glances. Her mother sat down on the sofa, patting the spot beside her, inviting Tetyana to join, but she remained standing.
“Mom, Dad, explain right now,” Tetyana’s voice was tense and clear.
Valentyna Serhiivna sighed and straightened.
“You see, here’s the thing… I gave your apartment to your brother. Now your father and I will live with you!”
Tetyana blinked, refusing to believe her ears.
“You… what?”
“What’s wrong with that?” her mother shrugged. “Serhiy has a business; he needs his own space. You see how hard he’s trying. And you have three rooms here! Why do you need so much space alone?”
“What business?” Tetyana raised her voice. “What kind, Mom? Selling fake Chinese phones? Or more hopeless investments? Or yet another ‘innovative’ idea doomed to fail within a month?”
“Don’t you dare talk about your brother like that!” her mother shouted indignantly. “He’s making an effort! He just needs family support!”
“I’ll ask once more,” Tetyana crossed her arms. “What exactly does it mean that you ‘gave the apartment to Serhiy’?”
Her father intervened, sitting beside his wife. “Remember Lucy from the third floor? She works as a realtor now and handled everything quickly.”
“Did you sell the apartment?” Tetyana clenched her fists hard enough to hurt her palms.
“No, of course not,” Valetyna Serhiivna hurried to explain. “We gifted it. It’s our son. Why sell?
“Now he’s the owner, and we’re moving in with you. You have plenty of room!”
Tetyana inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself.
“Do you really think you can just come here and stay without warning or my consent?”
“Daughter, we are family,” Mykola Petrovych said, spreading his hands. “Where else could we go?”
“To Serhiy!” Tetyana exclaimed. “To the apartment you just gifted to him!”
“Don’t you understand,” her mother sighed. “He needs personal space. For business. And private life.”
“And I don’t?” Tetyana stepped closer, looking her mother in the eyes. “So I’m expected to drop everything and take you in?”
“Not just take in, but welcome your parents,” her mother pressed her lips tightly. “We’re not homeless. We are your parents! We have the right to your support!”
“Just like Serhiy, right?” Tetyana smiled bitterly. “All for him, always. And now the apartment too.”
“He is a man!” Valetyna Serhiivna exclaimed. “He needs a foundation for life! You already have everything!”
“Because I work!” Tetyana shouted. “Every day, for years! And Serhiy?”
“He is still finding his way,” her father added quietly.
“At thirty-eight?” Tetyana laughed harshly. “Dad, he’s not searching. He’s leeching off you. And now you want to leech off me too.”
Her mother sprang up from the sofa.
“How dare you talk like that? About your own parents! After all we’ve done for you!”
“What exactly have you done?” Tetyana’s eyes narrowed. “I paid for my university myself. I bought my apartment myself. When I divorced, a friend helped me, not you.”
“We raised you!” her mother yelled.
“And you’re still trying to raise me, huh?” Tetyana shook her head. “No, Mom and Dad, you won’t stay here. Pack your things and leave.”
“Daughter,” her father began, but Tetyana cut him off.
“Now. I’m not joking.”
“You’re kicking us out?” her mother dramatically clasped her chest. “Your own mother? Your father?”
“Yes,” Tetyana answered firmly. “I’m kicking you out. Just like you kicked me out of your lives by choosing Serhiy.”
Her father looked bewildered.
“Pack your bags,” Tetyana pointed to the door. “You have a son. He can take you in in his new apartment.”
Valetyna Serhiivna pressed her lips into a thin line, then slowly began gathering her scattered belongings.
“You will regret this,” she hissed, pulling on her coat. “Someday you’ll realize your mistake.”
“No, Mom,” Tetyana shook her head. “I won’t regret it anymore. I’ve had enough.”
As the door closed behind her parents, Tetyana sank slowly onto the couch. Her hands trembled slightly. She took out her phone and opened the contacts list.
“Mom,” “Dad,” “Serhiy.”
One by one, she blocked all three numbers.
“Enough is enough,” Tetyana repeated aloud, leaning back. “Never again.”
Outside, a new day began. Her day. Free from manipulation, guilt, and endless demands. For the first time in a long while, Tetyana knew this was only the beginning of a long journey to reclaim herself. But the crucial first step was taken.
- Setting firm personal boundaries is essential for emotional well-being.
- Financial independence plays a key role in maintaining autonomy in family relationships.
- Confronting toxic family dynamics often requires difficult but necessary decisions.
Key Insight: Establishing and defending one’s own space sometimes means standing up to family, ensuring respect and self-care come first.
This story highlights the challenges many face when family expectations clash with personal freedom. In choosing herself, Tetyana embraces the difficult but empowering path towards reclaiming control over her life.