This year was hell.
Not metaphorical — literal, suffocating hell.
Our home turned out to be infested with black mould. Hidden in the walls, the ceiling, behind the paint.
My partner developed severe asthma from it — she’d never had it before.
She passed out multiple times.
We called ambulances. I even ended up in the hospital myself, hypoxic, my chest tight like it was wrapped in barbed wire.
All while dealing with landlords who lied, agents who covered it up, and lawyers who barely listened.
But we fought.
We won.
$10,000 from the tribunal.
And our lives back.
Except somewhere in the chaos… I lost my family.
My sister and her husband didn’t ask how we were. Didn’t visit. Didn’t message.
Instead, they called me crazy. Said I was “making my girlfriend crazy too.”
I sent them medical reports, inspection results, photos of the mould crawling through our walls.
They laughed.
They said I was “overreacting.”
When I finally broke — when I snapped after months of no sleep and pure survival — they twisted it, told everyone I’d threatened them.
Then kicked me out of the family group chat like I was the problem.
They’ve always been like that. My brother-in-law makes disgusting jokes — said at his own wedding, “I’m gonna make you an uncle tonight, bro.”
My sister just shrugs.
“He’s drunk, don’t take it seriously.”
She never takes anything seriously — not even when people almost die.
So I blocked them.
Went no contact.
And for the first time in my life, I felt… free.
Now, months later, my mum and grandma are begging me to “fix things.”
They say,
“If you love us, you’ll do it.”
“His family doesn’t like you.”
“You’re missing out on your niece growing up.”
But where were they when we were gasping for air?
When I told them I wasn’t the one who needed to apologize, my mum cried. Said, “You’ve changed.”
Maybe I have.
Because I’m done being the quiet one who takes the blame.
Done being guilted into forgiveness by people who only show up when it’s convenient.
I love my niece — but I won’t burn myself to keep toxic people warm.
They didn’t believe me when I said the house was killing us.
And now that we’ve survived, they want peace.
Peace for them. Not for me.
