We’re so afraid that people will ignore us.
But sometimes, being ignored is exactly what you need.
Let me tell you a story.
A very long time ago, someone came to stay at our house for more than a few days.
The problem?
They always arrived unannounced.
As Malays, we have a saying we often use to make guests feel welcome: “Buat macam rumah sendiri,” which translates to “Treat this as your own home.”
It’s meant as a warm gesture of hospitality.
But sometimes, people take it a little too literally… and they actually make your home their home.
The funny thing is, I’ve never said those words to anyone.
Not even once.
I’ve seen firsthand how easily that phrase can be misunderstood or even manipulated. And because we’re raised to be polite and accommodating, it’s incredibly difficult to set limits without being seen as a bad host.
So I made it a point never to invite anyone to treat my home like it was theirs.
But because that mindset is so deeply ingrained in our culture…
It happened anyway.
They literally treated my house as if they owned it.
Mind blown, I know.
It got so bad that they rearranged my kitchen, moved my furniture around, walked into our bedroom without knocking, argued among themselves almost every day, and even argued with us whenever we dared to say no.
There were simply no boundaries.
Eventually, I gathered the courage to say something.
Very gently.
As gently as I possibly could.
I simply asked them to respect our home and to visit as guests.
It didn’t go well.
Apparently, I was going against the culture.
I was called uncultured, unfriendly, unwelcoming… and a few other names that thankfully stopped short of actual swear words.
Then came the “punishment.”
They announced they would never step foot into my house again.
They expected me to feel guilty.
I quietly listened.
Then quietly agreed.
Because by then, my husband and I were already at the end of our rope. Azfar was still a toddler, and the constant stress had started affecting our own marriage.
We argued almost every day.
Sometimes, if my husband wasn’t home, I couldn’t even bear being in my own house. I would leave and spend the day at a friend’s place until it was time for him to come home.
Imagine that.
I couldn’t feel comfortable in my own home.
My house was no longer my home.
Months turned into years.
They stopped dropping by unannounced.
It was supposed to be a punishment for us.
Little did they know…
It was actually a gift.
We still see each other from time to time, but always somewhere else.
Never at my house.
And I have never invited them over again.
More than ten years have passed.
Azfar is a teenager now.
Our home has been more peaceful than ever.
Looking back, setting boundaries definitely ruffled a few feathers in the beginning.
People didn’t like it.
Some took it personally.
Some thought I had changed.
But protecting the peace inside your own home is worth disappointing people who refuse to respect your boundaries.
Every single time.
Because sometimes, being ignored isn’t rejection.
Sometimes, it’s peace finding its way back home.
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