So, I’ve been giving my coworker Emily a ride to work for about a year because she used to live nearby.
Now that I am leaving on maternity leave, she has no idea how she will go to work because she is unable to drive and does not own a car.
I told her I couldn’t keep driving her once the baby arrived, and she suggested I ask my husband to drive her instead! I told him no, he needed to sleep and had his own job to get to. She became enraged and joked (or so I thought) that it was his fault I couldn’t give her a ride any longer since he had gotten me pregnant.
Anyway, today was my first day on maternity leave, and guess what? The doorbell rang at 5:45 a.m. I was half sleeping, praying it wasn’t who I assumed it was. But, of course, it was Emily, waiting for her transport. When I replied no, she rushed off, incensed.
But believe me, I had no idea what would happen next.
After a few days, I was settling into life with the baby. One morning, I got up early to go acquire some baby formula, leaving Mark at home with the baby. I walk up to the front door, and my heart sinks as I see Emily standing there with a suitcase in her hand.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, completely baffled.
“I had a fight with my roommate. I have nowhere else to go,” she said, looking pitiful.
I was torn between frustration and compassion. “Emily, you can’t just show up like this. We have a newborn, and we can’t take you in.”
She sighed dramatically. “I know, I know. I just thought you might help me out, considering I’ve been left in the lurch with no ride to work.”
I shake my head. “Emily, we need space right now. “You must find another solution.”
She stared at me with pleading eyes. “Can I at least use your phone to call a friend?”
I reluctantly let her in, keeping a tight eye on her. She made a quick phone call and then went, muttering something about me being unreasonable. I hoped that was the last of it.
But it wasn’t. The next morning, I awoke to Emily sitting on our porch, scrolling through her phone. She looked up and grinned. Good morning! I am just waiting for my ride. They should be here shortly.”
I was speechless. “Emily, you cannot just camp out on our porch. “This is becoming ridiculous.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t want to bother you by ringing the bell.”
I had reached my breaking point. Mark, hearing the commotion, approached the door with the infant in his arms. “What’s going on?” he inquired.
“Emily seems to think our porch is a waiting area,” I remarked, irritated.
Mark looked at her sternly. “Emily, you need to find another solution. You can’t rely on us for rides or a place to stay. We have our hands full.”
She finally left, but the drama wasn’t over.
A week later, I received a call from HR. Apparently, Emily had complained that I was creating a hostile work environment by refusing to help her with her transportation needs. I couldn’t believe it.
I described the matter to HR, and they fortunately understood and agreed with me. They advised Emily make other plans and even offered to assist her in connecting with a ride-sharing service.
Emily barely acknowledged me the next time I saw her at work. I felt a mixture of relief and despair as I realized our friendship had been irreparably ruined. But I couldn’t allow her take advantage of me and my family at such an important time.
Emily eventually found another coworker who agreed to give her a ride, and things gradually returned to normal. As for me, I learnt an important lesson about setting boundaries and not allowing others to take advantage of my compassion.
