The laws in this country were already ludicrous for anyone who dared to rent out their home. I was on the point of starting to post rats through the letterbox of my own flat last year to get my tenant to leave after he stopped paying rent and refused to move out.

But from Friday May 1, thanks to the introduction of Labour’s new Renters’ Rights Act, the situation is about to get worse.

Not just for the big landlords the Labour Government is aiming to hurt, but for any homeowner who might want to rent out their property, like I did.

So for anyone who is going to be affected, let my story be a warning.

I bought my tiny, scruffy studio flat in London in 2020 for £285,000 and spent £20,000 renovating it just before the pandemic, with a plan to move in straight after. Like many, Covid drastically altered my course and I ended up leaving the city to work remotely, moving in with my now-husband, a pilot.

I needed someone to live in my flat in order to cover the mortgage and the bills, and a friend-of-a-friend with excellent references was keen. It seemed perfect.

I offered him a very low, mates’-rates, all-bills-included monthly payment, on which I made no profit and we drew up a contract for six months. I want to howl with anger at my stupidity now, but at the time I trusted James* because he seemed so squeaky clean: a polite, well-spoken 30-something-year-old nurse.

At first, it worked out fine. We kept renewing the contract and for the first few years it was smooth-sailing. Granted, I was starting to make a small loss every month as the bills galloped upwards - everything from the TV licence and Wi-Fi to the service charges and council tax increased.

In hindsight, I should have adjusted the monthly rental accordingly, but he told me his budget was tight and - mad though it seems now - I liked him and was empathetic about his situation.

Somewhere along the line, red flags started shooting up. I visited the flat a few times and his behaviour was difficult. At one point, he messaged to tell me he would be away and without his phone for a few months: I later discovered he had been in rehab.

Then my five-year, low-interest mortgage rate came to an end and my monthly payments doubled. My salary, alas, did not, and I knew James couldn’t pay double the rent to stay there so I had no option but to sell. I told James in January 2025 that he would have to vacate by July latest, and at first he agreed.

Then it quickly became clear he was in no hurry. James, it transpired, had some problems and lost his job long ago. I have no idea who was paying his rent, but he was on benefits. He told me it was impossible to find a new landlord in his circumstances.

Months passed and as sorry as I felt for him, I now had a toddler and was pregnant with my second child. I was slipping further and further into debt as a result of the losses I was making on the flat. I had to sell.

James knew this and at first agreed, when our tenancy agreement expired, to pay £300 more in rent per month until he found somewhere else to live. But he never did and more months rolled on.

Given our tenancy contract had expired, I assumed, that surely I had a right to evict him. I had given him more than six months to find a new flat, he had overstayed and wasn’t paying the agreed rent. I sent him an eviction notice which he ignored.

In the meantime he mostly refused to take my calls but I did manage to speak to him on one occasion. The council, he informed me, had advised him to stay put and bide his time. The law was so skewed in favour of tenants that it would have taken me a long time and a lot of money to have him formally evicted. At least it would have been possible eventually. By Friday it will be even harder.

My flat was on the market but James often wouldn’t let the estate agent through the door to show potential buyers, even when he had agreed to in advance. Whenever he did let them in, he was clearly incoherent. My estate agents told me to give up - there was no way I could sell the property with him living in it.

Fresh out of patience and sympathy, I was prepared by this stage to play dirty. Perhaps I would wait until he left the flat, then change the locks and move his belongings into a storage unit? This, it turned out, would have been illegal.

As my desperation grew, my ideas got wackier. Could I cut off the WiFi and the electricity to make his life inconvenient? No, illegal. Could I move back in myself, camp on the sofa and just stare at him awkwardly until he fled? No, illegal.

Eventually, in October he left. To this day, I have no idea where he went or why he suddenly did the right thing. But thank goodness he did.

I sold my flat at a loss of nearly £40,000 at the end of last year. The property market was already in turmoil, according to my estate agents, in part because of Labour’s impending Renters’ Rights Act.

The new rules will make it even harder - almost impossible, in fact - for homeowners to evict tenants, and as a result, landlords up and down the country are selling up.

Many have decided to get rid of the tenants renting their buy-to-let homes before the new law comes in. Has the government even considered the distress it is causing countless renters who are being turfed out - ironically, the very people the Act is meant to help?

For landlords, it’s just not worth the risk anymore to hand your keys over to someone who could essentially become a squatter. This, in turn, is going to force the rental market to shrink and prices to increase for renters. It’s a disastrous policy.

Even if I could afford to become a homeowner in England again (which I can’t, thanks in part to James) I wouldn’t. What if I needed to rent it out again? I wouldn’t dare. In fact, my family and I are planning to leave the UK altogether. Under Starmer, this once great country is becoming too bonkers to endure.

*James is not their real name.