My Neighbor Kept Making Unfounded Claims about Me, in the End He Paid for It – Story of the Day

I decided to take matters into my own hands when my neighbor kept making unfounded claims about me.

There was a time I was running out of my mind. Alongside my handsome husband, I live in an apartment building that houses a bunch of ordinarily rational folks, well, all except the bald, pot-bellied man who lived next door to us.

He moved out today, and memories of him are all I recalled as I watched the last truck carrying his things depart. The man always complained about noise he claimed came from our apartment.

"You're too loud!" he would often say. "Learn to turn your devices off when you go to bed!"

His frequent complaints had grated against my nerves because I knew that my husband and I hardly ever made any sort of noise that could qualify as a disturbance.

We did not speak too loud, nor did we play our music loudly, and above all, we were respectful in our dealings with our neighbors.

I knew we were doing everything right because none of the other tenants complained of the alleged noise. The strange man was the only one who thought we made too much noise.

My husband and I had even attempted to tone things down even more than was necessary in a bid to satisfy the man, all to no avail. He was constantly complaining and seemed to relish making up offenses we had committed.

I frowned as I thought about what used to be my predicament; the man was always going on about how our noise disturbed his daily activities.

My home with Reece, my husband, was a modest place filled with a collection of our favorite furniture. The sound insulation in the house was excellent, as far as we are aware.

We never heard from our neighbors; there was a family of three in the room above our own, and the woman who lived opposite us had never complained about noise coming from our abode. This led me to believe the obnoxious man was deliberately targeting us.

I had been willing to consider other options, until one particularly frustrating experience I endured at his hands one day, I could remember it clearly like it happened yesterday. The strange man had deliberately been gunning for us — for me.

I was well aware of how respectful the man became as soon as my husband got involved in our interactions. One particular incident flitted across my mind.

It had been a pleasant evening. I had stepped out of our apartment with plans to walk over to a friend's house to catch up on some ladies' time. But as soon as I locked the door behind me, the man barged out of his room, his fat belly jiggling.

"You left your TV blaring the whole night!" he growled.

I had, in truth, stayed up the previous night to binge watch some anime, but I had kept the volume at the bare minimum. Of course, it was more because I had not wanted to disturb my husband with my nocturnal habit, but I did not tell him that.

"I didn't receive any complaints from others," I said instead. "It would seem you're the only one who hears this noise."

"Maybe they just don't have working ears," the man retorted.

He was about to say more when my husband, who worked day shifts, returned. He was a tall man with bulging muscles that strained his outfit. It's why I married him besides his smart brain, naturally.

Anyways, as soon as the strange man set eyes on him, his bearing changed from one of great vexation to a good-natured one. He quickly apologized, confessing he had mixed things up and beat a hasty retreat.

Sharp as a pin, I saw through the ruse and pointed it out to my husband back then. He always listens, another reason I married him. He spoke to the man about it.

"All problems must be brought to me, leave her out of it," I remember Reece telling the pest of a man.

"Reece, your wife often misunderstands me when I tell her these things," the man had defended himself.

Nothing changed though; the stubborn man simply timed his confrontations with me to happen in the absence of my husband. I had been a ticking bomb, and each time the man crossed me, I was a step closer to exploding.

One fateful day, I had a run-in with him in the hallway. Right on cue, he started another confrontation, but this one went too far. Why? He pushed me, that's why. It was the straw that broke the camel's back. I snapped and put my hands on the man.

I hate to toot my own horn, but at the time, I was a self-defense coach who made a living off teaching women to defend themselves from brutes like him.

My qualifications as a fighter were above par, and even though I would have preferred to avoid exercising my strength and skills in such a manner, it was what happened.

I hit him, and I kept doing that until he shed real tears and begged for my forgiveness.

That day he learned that my husband had forbidden me from interacting with him because he had been afraid I would lose my temper. The man stopped speaking to me after that. Perhaps I should have done that sooner.

What can we learn from the story?

• Learn to solve disputes peacefully. Ruth had been trying to maintain peace for months, but her neighbor had been bent on worsening their already deteriorating relationship. It all culminated in the violent confrontation she had with him, and that could have been avoided if he did not try to attack her.
• Be more patient with people. Ruth should have tried to restrain her anger even though her reasons were justified. Rather than blowing up angrily, she could have walked away peacefully to avoid the confrontation.
• If you go looking for trouble, you are bound to find it. Ruth and her husband were peaceful tenants, but the strange man was relentless in his torment.

Share this story with your friends. It should serve as a subtle reminder about why patience is an important virtue.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a man stealing his neighbor's dog food.

This account is inspired by our reader's story but written by a professional writer. All names have been changed to protect identities and ensure privacy. Share your story with us, maybe it will change someone's life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.