AITA for refusing to feed my boyfriend’s uninvited niece and setting boundaries—then leaving when he sided with his family?

I’m tired of my boyfriend’s sister dropping in unannounced, her kids treating our home like theirs, and Albert refusing to enforce simple boundaries—so I stood my ground and now our relationship has collapsed.

I (29F) moved in with my boyfriend Albert (35) and at first everything was great. Problems started when his sister (37F) and her two kids (7F and 9M) began showing up at dinner uninvited and treating our apartment like an open house. The kids are sweet but spoiled — they interrupt adult conversations, grab things without permission, and have cried and thrown tantrums when told “no.” The sister rarely takes responsibility and expects to be fed and accommodated whenever she drops by. I asked Albert to set boundaries, and when he didn’t, I began hiding valuables, locking my office, and trying to protect my space. When his son pitched a small anxiety-fueled meltdown after grabbing noisy party snaps from a drawer, I didn’t soothe him because I felt that would reward boundary-pushing; I asked Albert to speak to his sister instead, but he didn’t.

I’m a 29-year-old who worked hard to help pay the bills while Albert’s family treated our home like a free buffet; I asked him to protect our boundaries, he called me selfish, and after the last fight I moved out.

We quickly ran into friction over resources and respect for my space. Albert’s sister has access to her own home, car, and work as a nail technician, but she still treats our place as convenient—expecting meals, borrowing toiletries, and letting her kids rummage through drawers. I started hiding things and even put a lock on my home office after suspecting she’d used my copy machine. Albert has had his hours cut at work so I’ve been covering most bills; instead of protecting our household, he has repeatedly defended his sister or dismissed my concerns as overreacting.

"I told Albert she can't keep dropping by uninvited and taking food and things."

Tensions escalated on a Friday I asked for a quiet night in. I came home with dinner and told Albert I didn’t want to be disturbed. His sister turned up asking for a forgotten backpack, and her son started begging for my crab legs. When I said the food was mine and closed the door on their begging, he had a meltdown outside for several minutes. Albert returned later, furious at me for how I’d treated his family. He stopped talking to me and demanded I apologize to his sister. He accused me of being selfish for not sharing my dinner.

"He told me I needed to apologize and that I was being selfish for not sharing my own dinner."

I tried to explain how uncomfortable I felt having people constantly in my home and how the kids had been taking my things. I pointed out that I work late and that my salary helps keep us afloat, but Albert minimized it and sided with his sister. After days of silent treatment and escalating texts, I began to feel invisible and undermined in my own home. I started preparing to leave because I couldn’t see a future where my boundaries were respected.

🏠 The Aftermath

I followed community advice and moved out. My best friend helped me pack, call movers, and secure my important documents. I cleared out my locked home office, packed my belongings into storage, and arranged temporary accommodation at a hotel before staying with family for the holidays.

I took only what was mine, settled things with the landlord, and documented the condition of the place with photos. I cancelled utilities in my name, changed passwords and subscriptions, and closed joint accounts where I could. I blocked Albert and his relatives on my phone after he sent hurtful voice messages and insisted I return furniture that I owned.

Consequences: the relationship ended, I regained physical distance and safety, and I absorbed the emotional and logistical costs of moving. For Albert and his family, they lost a partner who was contributing to the household; for me, it meant protecting my boundaries at the cost of a relationship I cared about.

"I packed the office and locked it up — I wasn't leaving my work or documents to be used or taken."

I’m relieved to be out of daily tension but also grieving what we had. The practical fallout — storage fees, hotel nights, and changing accounts — feels worth it because I no longer have to tiptoe around people who ignore my home and my rules.

💭 Emotional Reflection

This situation isn’t just about a plate of food — it’s about recurring boundary violations, conflicting expectations, and a partner who repeatedly chose his family’s comfort over protecting our shared home. When one person regularly enables others to disregard your space, resentment builds quickly.

Some will argue I could have been more diplomatic or that I should have apologized to keep the peace. Others will say a partner should back up their significant other and enforce basic rules. Both views have merit: communication and compromise matter, but so does consistent respect for emotional and physical boundaries.

Given Albert’s reduced income and my increased financial contribution, the balance of give-and-take became skewed. That imbalance — combined with his unwillingness to set limits with his sister — made the relationship unsustainable for me.

Here’s how the community might see it:

“You have every right to protect your home and work — feeding uninvited guests and letting kids take your things isn’t reasonable.”

“Tough love: you could’ve tried a calm, preplanned boundary conversation, but his silent treatment showed where his loyalties really are.”

“You left safely and documented everything — hard choice, but sometimes leaving is the only way to keep your dignity and mental health.”

Reactions will split between those who prioritize familial duty and those who prioritize personal boundaries and safety; the recurring themes are communication, responsibility, and who is expected to bear the emotional labor in a relationship.

🌱 Final Thoughts

Living with someone means agreeing on how to treat your shared space — and when one partner consistently fails to protect that agreement, the other is left to choose whether to keep trying or to leave. I chose my safety and sanity.

I still grieve the relationship and acknowledge places I could have handled things differently, but I don’t regret enforcing my boundaries after repeated violations.

What do you think?
Would you have stayed to try setting firmer boundaries, or left earlier like I did? Share your thoughts below 👇