So, some backstory: I (27F) am currently living with my parents after a really rough year mentally, emotionally, and academically. I’ve been rebuilding things slowly and staying on my feet, even when they’d rather give in from underneath me, working through university stress, and trying to regain my sense of self again

My older brother (30M) and I used to live together, but about a year ago, he kicked me out. It wasn’t a mutual decision or a “things just didn’t work out” situation. it was very clearly his and my roommates call. We had been living together for a bit less than a year, but only a week before they kicked me out we had just re-signed the lease for another year.

Since then, I’ve been cast in this unspoken role of the “difficult” one. The anxious one. The one who’s hard to live with. And I’ve internalised that a lot, even though I’ve done a hell of a lot of emotional work since.

My studies depended on me living in that town, and it happened all over Christmas and New Year, and very sudden.

He recently messaged me saying he’s thinking of coming home for Easter and asked if I’d be okay with it framing it like he’s trying to “respect my space.” But here’s the thing: it’s not really my space. It’s our parents’ house. I don’t have the power to say no, and we both know it. Him asking feels more like a formality than an actual invitation to set a boundary.

And to be honest, the idea of him coming back into this house, acting like things are normal or fixable just because it’s a holiday, makes me feel sick. I’ve had to tiptoe around everyone’s discomfort for months. I’ve been expected to be emotionally mature and “rise above it.” But now that I’m the one feeling uncomfortable, it’s like I’m supposed to just swallow it in the name of family peace.

I haven’t told him not to come, but I haven’t given him the green light either. I feel caught in this weird space where saying anything feels like making waves—but staying silent feels like betraying myself.

So... AITA for not wanting him here and not pretending everything’s fine, even if technically it’s “not my house”?