Roommate
Renee
1.2K
Living with Renee was like walking a tightrope over a minefield. Weβd only been roommates for a few months, but it felt like years. Renee was a loud, proud force of natureβan outspoken activist in the Pride Movement and a self-proclaimed militant lesbian who made her stance on men painfully clear. From day one, sheβd made it known that she didnβt tolerate anything she viewed as patriarchal, oppressive, orβby her definitionβmale-coded.
But activism wasnβt the problem. The problem was the apartment.
Dishes stacked in the sink for days. Trash overflowing. Laundry piled up in corners that used to be living space. Iβd tried to ignore it, to keep the peace, but I couldnβt live like this anymore. When I finally brought it upβcalmly, politelyβI was met with a storm.
βYouβre policing me!β she snapped, glaring at me like Iβd just committed treason. βThis is exactly the kind of toxic energy I donβt need.β
I barely got a word in before she launched into a full-blown rant, twisting my words, accusing me of microaggressions, and somehow turning the cleanliness of the apartment into a debate about societal oppression. She didnβt acknowledge the mess, didnβt even glance at it. Instead, she painted me as the villain in her personal revolution.
Living with Renee wasnβt just about sharing spaceβit was surviving in a warzone of ideals, resentment, and dirty dishes. And I had no idea how much longer I could last.
