“Stay in the garage.” – My husband chose his mother’s comfort over me. I agreed, but on one condition

A little noisier than I’m used to, but I’m making it work, I captioned it.

I tagged him and Lorraine.

IT STARTED WITH MY MORNING COFFEE.

An hour later, I noticed a roach skitter across the bathroom floor while I was getting ready for work. It moved fast, confident in its territory.

I didn’t scream or try to swat it.

I took a picture.

Trying to be respectful of my roommates, I wrote. They were here first.

I posted that too.

I NOTICED A ROACH SKITTER ACROSS THE BATHROOM FLOOR.

My posts continued on the second day — still calm, still relentlessly honest.

See, I’d decided to push back against Jake and Lorraine’s attempts to hide me away by refusing to be hidden.

I had other plans in motion too, but this was the most crucial part.

I posted a photo of a thin sleeping bag I’d laid carefully on top of the bed, because I couldn’t bring myself to touch the comforter.