The dog always has a spot on the couch when I visit my mom. He acts like he owns the place. Some people might not think much of it, but for me, it’s a big bother. I’ve been letting it bother me for years. Since I have a young daughter and have been diagnosed with OCD, sitting on a couch where a dog has been is not only painful, it’s unbearable. Still, my mom doesn’t seem at all upset.
Boundaries: The Never-Ending Battle
There it was again: my mom on the couch with her dog Charlie curled up next to her. I had just walked through the door when I saw it. I felt a sharp, familiar wave of anger hit me. This wasn’t just any couch; it was the main piece of furniture in her living room and where friends and family sat. She thought of Charlie as a furry member of the family and curled up with her as if it were the best thing in the world.
I told her again, maybe a thousand times, that I couldn’t sit where he did. She just laughed and looked up, saying, “That OCD will kill my daughter.” Being around dog germs will only make you and your daughter stronger. “Come here, my dear!”
I got very angry. When she saw me, my OCD was just a weird bother, something to laugh about. But it was important to me. I couldn’t get rid of the constant, annoying feeling that I was dirty and germ-filled after getting off that couch. Were you the only one who thought dogs and other animals would do better in the yard?
Drawing the Line: An Angry Call to Action
I told her one last time, “Mom, I’m sorry to say this a thousand times, but it’s not about how you feel; it’s about how I feel.” “This dog better get off the couch while I’m here, or I’m leaving.”
Her face changed. I had hoped for a warm, understanding look, but I got… After taking a deep breath, she looked at me with a steady gaze. “Mary, Charlie is my best friend.” He’s family. I’m not locking him up just because you’re here… You have to let him in, or…
I just stood there and stared as her voice stopped. I felt like a wall was rising between us. It was stronger and harder than ever. Charlie was more important to her than my safety and comfort in her home. I chose to teach her a lesson at that very moment.
Taking charge of things myself
I came up with a simple but useful plan. While she was talking, I told her I had to go get something from the car. As I walked outside, she looked at me funny, but she didn’t think much of it. I made up my mind. I would show her what it’s like to have family members tested if she thought Charlie was family.
I left for a while and then came back in a little calmer than before. Charlie was still on the couch when I got back. He looked at me with innocent, wide eyes. I walked right up to the couch, picked him up, and took him outside while locking the door behind me. I looked back and was shocked to see my mom. She jumped up and ran to the door, where she opened it in shock. “Hi Brianna! Is this really what you want to do?”
“Giving you a choice, Mom,” I told her in a stronger voice than ever. “I’m leaving if Charlie stays in the house.” I stay here if he’s out here. I can’t keep coming over and feeling like I’m not welcome or respected.
A Choice That Made Everything Different
When my mom looked from me to Charlie, her face showed that she was both hurt and angry. She wasn’t ready for this test, and she didn’t think I’d draw this line. She thought about what she could do for a long time in silence, and I could see her resolve weaken. It was clear that she loved Charlie more than I did. I saw how sad she looked as she slowly shook her head.
Oh Brianna, I love you… She said, “I can’t change who I am, and Charlie is a part of me.” Her voice was shaking with emotion.
It was at that point that I realized we were stuck. I always hoped she’d get it and make the small change I needed to really feel at home with her. We both felt misunderstood and unwilling to change, though. I turned away because I could feel how final my choice was.
As I walked to my car, my ultimatum really hit me. The question kept coming back: Was I being unreasonable? It could have been just about setting my own limits. I knew that things would never be the same between us in that long, quiet moment.