He Thought She Was a Bad Mother and a Poor Wife
A friend of mine, a mother of three, recently remarried. How she managed it remains a mystery to me. Not that mothers with many children can’t find love; they do, if someone truly cares for them. But I’ve always known her as the “worst mother and wife” from her previous marriage.
I visited her a few times in her “former” life. She always seemed exhausted, overwhelmed, and disorganized. Her porridge would often burn, her youngest would wander around in wet clothes for hours, torn between him, the middle child and his homework, the stove, and unable to change the wet clothes in time. She had to prepare dinner before her husband came home from work, and she struggled to tidy up because he liked the house neat. She hurriedly stuffed toys into boxes as the little one scattered them again.
Simultaneously, she was online, sending emails — she had a side job because her husband’s salary wasn’t enough. The whole situation spiraled into a never-ending cycle of dreariness. Her husband would come in, glance at the mess, and joke, half-serious, “At least give the cat some water! Do something useful for once…” I remembered those words well. My friend would drop the emails, the ladle, the wet clothes, and with a guilty smile, pour water into the cat’s dish, feeling that was the only productive thing she’d done all day.
I made a foolish attempt to lighten the mood, suggesting half-jokingly that she leave all the cats and unfinished dinner behind, put on some makeup, gather the kids, and let’s go to a cafe. “I’ll bring mine too.” Her husband cut in, half in jest, “She’s too old to bother with makeup!” And I looked at this woman, realizing with horror that she was actually younger than me. If she was considered “old,” then who was I?
She apologized and said they preferred home-cooked meals. She started setting the table where her husband sat, waiting. The kids scattered toys again, and with some “third” hand, she gathered them, because her husband liked order. Her phone beeped, likely a work email. “Stop spending the whole day online,” her husband remarked. I said my farewells and left.
“I Blame Myself”
No, she never complained to anyone. Never! No matter how she was asked, she always said everything was fine. The more gray and washed out she was, the more confidently she replied, “Everything’s great!” and hid her faded eyes.
We had many mutual friends, and from them, I heard that her mother-in-law was very displeased with her. The daughter-in-law was a bad mother because the youngest fell off a bike and had to have his eyebrow stitched. She should have been watching, not wasting time on random things… A bad wife because the house was messy and the husband and kids were poorly fed.
Once her husband went to the school and there was an argument at home. The eldest had gotten into trouble, all because the “bad mother” spent her time doing who-knows-what instead of raising the children. They said she began taking antidepressants because, yes, a lousy mother and wife. She felt she couldn’t do anything, and even the kids understood.
– “Mom, you’re the worst!” yelled her youngest on a walk. We were strolling together. “You don’t read me stories.” She took out a book from her bag, defeated and tired, and began to read. She desperately wanted to be a good mother.
Then they divorced. Her husband met another woman, presumably a good wife and homemaker. To his credit, he did pay child support and kept in touch with the children. “Well, that’s that,” my acquaintance said when I asked. “Probably my fault.” Later, she moved with the children, exchanged apartments, and we lost touch for a long time.
“From an Ugly Duckling to a Swan”
Time passed, and recently we “found” each other on social media. She messaged me. I was shocked. From the profile picture, a different woman looked back at me. Vibrant, beautiful, happy, and full of energy. I was intrigued and suggested we meet up.
We met at a cafe. I couldn’t believe my eyes. She truly was different. Confident in herself, life, and people. That’s when I learned she had remarried.
“I honestly don’t know why he noticed me,” she shared. “I was just trying to survive…” But the man persisted, won over her children, and proposed. Suddenly, she was the “best mother and wife.” Burned the eggs? She was still the best homemaker.
Tomorrow she was baking pies because she was “the best.” She wanted to bring joy. The house was a mess? A wonderful mother and wife because now they all cleaned together, chatting happily. She found out she didn’t have to lug shopping bags alone and get criticized for forgetting something again because she was “wasting time with nonsense”. They could shop together, and if they forgot something, they’d just laugh it off. She realized she wasn’t a “crone” but the most beautiful woman in the world. She was now fixing her hair in the evening just to greet the one who viewed her as a beauty.
It turned out she was quite accomplished because she still managed to do a side job. But it wasn’t necessary, only if she wanted. It turned out she wasn’t the useless nobody she had thought she was for many years, all because now she was loved, praised, and valued, not criticized.
I listened, amazed. Then her new husband came to pick her up. I understood everything. He looked at her in a way that made her truly bloom; not blooming wasn’t an option. He spoke to her and treated her in a way that she couldn’t help but become the most wonderful woman in the world.
He had brought her three children. I saw them briefly. But even in that moment, I noticed she was the best mother. It was evident by how they behaved. All because she now had someone by her side who helped her believe in herself. He turned the ugly duckling into a beautiful swan… It’s so important to have someone who helps you become that swan. Because a swan needs time, strength, and love to spread its wings.
No, I don’t really want to point fingers or blame anyone. Life is varied. But that’s the story. And I wonder what the first husband thinks now.
