Mum looked into her eyes and said, “You’re not worthy of being our daughter-in-law!”
I’m 57 years old. I have no family, no children, and I likely never will. I don’t seek pity or understanding. I merely wish to share my story as a warning to parents: don’t meddle in your children’s lives. Don’t construct their happiness for them. One day, you may realise that you’ve destroyed the most precious thing—their love.
I am a living example of how parental pride and arrogance can ruin a son’s life.
A Love That Didn’t Fit the Status Quo
I was 25 when I met her—Katie. A simple, kind-hearted girl from a working-class family. She didn’t possess wealth, fancy clothes, or influential relatives. But she had something that others lacked—a heart that beat in harmony with mine.
When I brought her home, my mother looked at her disdainfully and declared loudly:
— We don’t need a daughter-in-law like her.
My father sided with her. Katie was literally thrown out on the doorstep of our home. They wouldn’t listen to me, refusing to let me speak.
— You’re our only son! We raised you, educated you, and you bring home a pauper?!
Katie stood silently, but I could see the pain igniting in her eyes. She didn’t cause a scene or burst into tears. She simply looked me in the eye, shrugged, and left.
I rushed after her, trying to persuade her to come with me to another city, to start anew. But she was wiser than me.
— Your parents will do everything to ruin our lives, — she said. — They won’t leave us in peace. I refuse to live in endless struggle.
And she left.
Lost Years
A few years later, I learned she had married an old acquaintance. He too came from a humble background, but together they began anew, working hard, building a home, raising children.
I occasionally saw her in the street. She always wore a smile. She appeared happy.
One day, I could no longer hold back and asked her:
— Do you love him?
She looked at me with a touch of sadness and replied:
— In a family, what matters is not love, but respect, trust, and stability. Without them, no feelings will save you.
I disagreed. In my heart, she remained my one true love.
But I never met another woman to whom I could express those same sentiments.
An Empty Home
I never married.
My parents urged me and tried to arrange matches with girls from “respectable families.” But I just couldn’t. I didn’t want to live with a woman I didn’t love.
As time went by, they eventually resigned themselves. They began to ask me to at least get married and have children, but I didn’t care.
Years passed. My parents grew old, fell ill, and one by one, they departed this world.
And I was left in our sprawling home, all alone.
Now my friends have families, children, and grandchildren. I see them less frequently, as I can’t bear the pain—the anguish of witnessing happiness that could have been mine.
Strangers’ Children—My Solace
To fill the void, I started volunteering at playgrounds—painting slides, fixing swings. Sometimes I tidied up nurseries.
I didn’t need the money. I sold all the family land and inheritance.
I donated part to charity, giving to schools and children’s homes.
One day, a friend asked me:
— Why don’t you donate to nursing homes?
I scoffed.
— That’s my way of getting back at the parents who left me lonely.
Yes, it’s harsh. But now I only believe in children. They are the future.
And when I’m gone, my house will go to the school I attended. Let them use it for good.
I can’t change my life anymore. But perhaps I can help other children so their destinies turn out differently.
