Growing up, it always felt like the girls in my family were expected to do all the cleaning, cooking, and chores, while my brothers and dad lounged around. My adult brother never learned how to do the simplest things—he can’t even operate the washing machine. Over the years, my resentment grew as I felt like I was mothering an adult who had no responsibility for himself. Our home was spotless mostly because I kept it that way, while he left a trail of mess wherever he went. Holidays and weekends were the same story: they played video games or relaxed, and I was the one doing the hard work. I grew tired of excusing his behavior with “he was never taught.” We’re adults now, and there’s no excuse.
One day, I reached my breaking point. I couldn’t keep cleaning up after him, so I took some drastic steps. I locked cabinets and forbade him from using any of my dishes, forcing him to eat off his own filthy ones I found secondhand. I set strict rules: clothes or trash left on the floor for more than a day got thrown away. If his laundry sat in the washer too long, I dumped it wet on his bed. If he left food out, I let it rot and then tossed it on his bed too. Twice, he suffered food poisoning because of this, and I made no apologies—I needed him to learn to keep things clean.
My bathroom became off-limits; I locked the door and made him use the basement bathroom, which I refused to clean. When he destroyed my fridge once by spilling juice everywhere, I mopped it, gathered the ruined food and towels, and dumped it all on his bed before locking the fridge. I realized only tough love might teach him some accountability. It wasn’t fun, but I wasn’t there to mother a grown man. If he wanted to live under my roof, he had to follow the rules or be prepared for consequences. I had to save my sanity.
This approach was hard on both of us. Sometimes he yelled and sulked, but I stood firm. I’m not his nanny or mother. Our family expectations were unfair, and I finally voiced my boundaries clearly. This isn’t about cruelty; it’s about teaching respect and responsibility. If adults can’t clean up after themselves or respect shared spaces, there has to be a line. I’d rather lose a brother than keep enabling bad behavior. Hopefully, this wakes him up, but I’m done enabling his childishness.
