When it was announced the UK would be entering a national lockdown, I immediately felt dread over how my three housemates would take the news.
Up until then, we’d exchanged an awkward string of passive-aggressive WhatsApp messages discussing how we were going to approach the tier system and it quickly came to my attention that it was now every man for himself.
It started when I noted that my flatmates’ twice-weekly boyfriend visits were suddenly going to be off the cards. I was met with tales of how impossible it would be to survive without them, and that they couldn’t bear not seeing them.
I reminded them that, as a single person, I was about to be shut off from all my friends and loved ones too and that the coming month was going to be a trying time for us all, but it appeared that suddenly, partners took precedence above all else.
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They were going to continue bringing their boyfriends over, and as it was three against one, I was essentially told to suck it up even though I wasn’t willing to compromise on the law.
I fear I’m not alone in trying to navigate this tricky situation.
On top of the added pressure of mass redundancies, social isolation and trying to get hold of flour for a new round of baking, many young people like myself now have to deal with how we’re cohabitating while renting in a shared property.
While I’ve by no means agreed with the Government’s course of action over the last few months, I also know and respect that rules are rules – if not simply because my own health and the health of those around me are on the line.
As someone who grew up as the rule-breaker, it suddenly feels so wrong to be doing the ‘right’ thing.
After our confrontation, I found myself questioning if I’d made a terrible mistake by speaking out against their intention to breach lockdown.
Perhaps I was a bad person, or even selfish for denying my friends their freedom.
After a night of 3am panic-researching, it was heart-wrenching to discover that even with around 2.7million renters in London (or 30% of all households), there was simply no advice on how to approach what could quickly become a sticky situation.
I’ve even had bribes of sweets and my favourite foods hand-delivered to my bedroom, almost as though it will convince me to change my mind
Up until the tier system came into place, my relationship with my housemates had been a good one. I’d even grown quite fond of the 10pm curfew and bundling up to sit with my friends outdoors for a short while.
But as lockdown loomed closer, late-night kitchen conversations quickly turned to silence and the community spirit that this pandemic had sparked went missing.
I hoped that this lockdown would only bring us closer – after all, we’re a group of friends who moved in together just two months ago and who now get to spend more time in each other’s company – right?
I’m fortunate to know that I am on the right side of the argument (and the law).
Even if I did have an ‘other half’ to factor in, I know I would put the lockdown over my need to see them. With technology making it easier than ever to virtually be wherever someone else is, I didn’t see the need for more germs to be piled onto the salmonella mountain that is a shared house.
I’m relieved that so far my protests seem to have had an impact – with no boyfriends making an appearance to date – but I fear it’s come at the expense of my relationship with the people I live with.
I also think they worry their beaus would be taken away in cuffs if they did show up. Of course, I am never going to be ‘that’ girl who calls the police on her friends for breaking lockdown, but I have every right to.
I do feel awkward about what to do. I want to keep my friends, but I don’t want to lose my sanity, or put anyone at risk. And there is no point contacting my landlord, who takes a very hands-off approach to renting their home – and no tenancy agreement covers in-house drama, which is plentiful at the moment.
You could cut the tension in my flat with a knife. In fact, most conversations have a snide comment thrown in about how it would ‘make no difference if [insert boyfriend’s name] was here’.
I’ve even had bribes of sweets and my favourite foods hand-delivered to my bedroom, almost as though it will convince me to change my mind.
For the time being, I’m looking for a way to compromise and hoping they’ll realise that four weeks is by no means forever. I’m doing my best to reiterate that the quicker everyone gets on board with the advice, the quicker we can return to some kind of normality. Because who could possibly want to spend next summer the same way we spent this one?
To anyone who finds themselves in this situation (and there sure are a lot of us out there), my advice would be to stand your ground. Don’t feel pushed over by a minority making an already difficult time even more difficult to deal with – no one needs that stress right now.
Where you can, surround yourself with good people that respect your boundaries. Walk to a place you’ve never been to before, remember to wash your hands, spend a day in bed watching TV if it makes you happy. Above all, look after yourself first.
It’s what I’m telling myself everyday.
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