indicated movement at my vacation home. My heart began to race as I clicked on the app to view the live feed. The camera revealed my parents standing on the porch, bags in hand, attempting to unlock the door with a key they obviously didn’t have. Anger flared inside me, but I forced myself to take a deep breath. I had to handle this calmly and legally.
I quickly called the police. “Hello, I’d like to report a trespassing situation at my property,” I said, giving them the address. “The individuals are my parents, but they don’t have my permission to be there.” The operator assured me that an officer would be dispatched right away.
After the call, I sat at my desk, hands trembling slightly. This was not how I envisioned my family relationships turning out. But what choice did I have? My parents had crossed a line—they had dismissed my rights, my hard work, and my autonomy as if they were meaningless. It’s as if the family roles had reversed, and I was now the parent setting boundaries for irresponsible children.
