They looked her straight in the eye and said, “We don’t want a daughter-in-law like that!”
I’m 57, without a family or children, but I want to offer some advice to all parents: don’t interfere in your children’s lives, and don’t force them to live by your rules. What makes you happy might not make them happy.
I’m living proof of how, in their effort to give me the best, my parents drove away the woman I loved more than myself.
Mary came from a poor family, while my parents had inherited lands and property and were quite proud of it.
When I introduced her to them, they outright dismissed her, saying they would not have a daughter-in-law who had nothing. She left, hurt but with her head held high.
She refused to move away with me to start anew, insisting that sooner or later my parents would find a way to separate us.
She ended up marrying a neighbor, someone who also had little like her.
Together, they worked hard and eventually built a house on the outskirts of the city.
They had three children, and every time I saw her on the street, she was always smiling and seemed genuinely happy.
Once, I asked her if she loved her husband.
Mary, who came from nothing, told me she realized that stability and understanding between spouses were more important in a family. Without these, one cannot live on love alone.
I disagreed but couldn’t argue—I felt like a traitor.
I never got over Mary, and unlike her, I didn’t marry anyone.
I couldn’t imagine living with someone and having children without loving her.
My parents tried to arrange matches with girls they deemed suitable, but I firmly declined.
Eventually, they gave up and urged me to choose a partner for myself to continue our family line.
But I wanted no one else but Mary, and she had long moved on, leaving no place for me in her life.
My parents grew old, fell ill, and one by one passed away, leaving me alone in our large, three-story house.
I rarely see friends anymore, as they’re busy with their grandchildren, and I tend to keep my distance.
I’m happy for their joy, but it also pains me.
On weekends, I spend my time painting and repairing swings and slides at local playgrounds.
Sometimes, I help with the gardens of nurseries.
I do it voluntarily and for free—I don’t need the money. This way, I bring happiness to other people’s children and grandchildren.
I sold all the lands and property inherited from my parents.
With the proceeds, I made donations to several schools and homes for abandoned children.
A friend once asked why I didn’t give money to a retirement home. But I refuse.
Harsh as it may sound, it’s my way of avenging my parents, who are why I’m alone.
Besides, the future lies with the children, not the elderly, right?
The young need care and a good start in life.
When I die, my house will go to the school I graduated from.
They can use it for whatever they want or sell it.
What matters is that it goes to a good cause.
