Dear Annie: I’m a 75-year-old widow who has lived in the same little Cape for 43 years. I still do my own shopping, I drive myself to church, and I host Sunday supper when my joints cooperate. I’m not fragile, but I am… older. And lately, I feel like everyone is determined to treat me like a porcelain figurine.

It started after I slipped on my back steps last winter. I was bruised and embarrassed, but I healed. My daughter came over with a bag of salt and a look of panic, and since then she has never quite stopped hovering. Now she calls twice a day “just to check,” insists I keep my phone on loud, and shows up unannounced to “help” — which usually means rearranging my kitchen and throwing away things she says are “too hard” for me to use.

Last week, I baked my late husband’s favorite lemon loaf for my grandson’s visit. My daughter walked in, saw me taking it out of the oven and actually gasped, like I was juggling knives. She said, “Mom, you can’t be doing this alone,” and reached for the pan as if I might drop it at any moment.

I know she loves me. I know she’s scared. But I’m starting to feel like my life is being quietly taken over, one “helpful” comment at a time. I want to keep my independence without hurting her feelings or starting a family war.

How do I tell my daughter I’m still me — and I don’t want to live my last years being managed? — Still Standing

Dear Still Standing: Your daughter’s “help” is really a form of love wearing a nervous disguise. But love doesn’t give her the right to take over your house.

Take an appropriate, calm moment to tell her that you’re grateful she cares about you, but what you need most is independence, not all this supervision. Be specific about the kind of help you welcome (a weekly grocery run, a planned check-in call) and what isn’t (unannounced visits, rearranging the kitchen, taking over tasks you’re still capable of doing).

Give her a plan that eases her fear, whether it’s getting a medical alert button, a neighbor as a backup contact, a weekly “I’m fine” text or a simple home safety checklist you could each agree to. When she sees structure, she’ll hover less.

If she gasps or grabs, gently stop her, and say, “Please don’t. I’ve got it.” Repeat as needed, without anger. Calm consistency is the kindest boundary.

“Out of Bounds: Estrangement, Boundaries and the Search for Forgiveness” is out now. Annie Lane’s third anthology is for anyone who has lived with anger, estrangement or the deep ache of being wronged — because forgiveness isn’t for them. It’s for you. Go to http://www.creatorspublishing.com for more information. Follow Annie Lane on Instagram at @dearannieofficial. Send questions for Annie Lane to dearannie@creators.com.