Mum looked into her eyes and said, “You are unworthy of being our daughter-in-law!”
I’m 57 years old. I have no family, no children, and probably won’t have any. I don’t seek sympathy or understanding. I just want to share my story to warn parents: don’t interfere in your children’s lives. Don’t construct their happiness for them. Because one day, you might realize you’ve destroyed the most important thing – their love.
I am a living example of how parental pride and arrogance can ruin a son’s life.
A Love Beyond Class
I was 25 when I met her – Katie. A simple, kind girl from a working-class background. She didn’t have much money, fancy clothes, or influential relatives. But she possessed something others lacked – a heart that beat in harmony with mine.
When I brought her home, my mother gazed down at her disdainfully and proclaimed loudly:
“We don’t need a daughter-in-law like her.”
My father backed her up. Katie was literally turned away at the door. They didn’t listen to me, didn’t give me a chance to speak.
“You’re our only son! We raised you, educated you, and you bring a beggar into our home?!”
Katie stood silently, but I could see the hurt igniting in her eyes. She didn’t throw a tantrum or burst into tears. Instead, she simply looked me in the eye, shrugged, and walked away.
I rushed after her, trying to persuade her to leave with me to another city and start anew. But she was wiser than I was.
“Your parents will do everything to ruin our lives,” she said. “They won’t leave us alone. I don’t want to live in a constant battle.”
And she walked away.
Wasted Years
Years later, I learned that she had married a longtime friend. He was also from a modest background, but together they built a life from scratch, working hard, raising children, and constructing a home.
I sometimes saw her around town. She always smiled. She seemed happy.
One day, I couldn’t resist asking her:
“Do you love him?”
She looked at me with a hint of sadness and replied:
“In a family, respect, trust, and stability matter more than love. Without them, no feelings can save you.”
I didn’t concur. In my heart, she remained my one true love.
But I never encountered another woman to whom I could say those same words.
A Lonely House
I never married.
My parents tried to persuade me, attempting to set me up with girls from “good families.” But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to live with a woman I didn’t love.
Over the years, they came to accept it. They even pleaded for me to at least marry and have heirs, but I simply didn’t care.
Years passed. My parents aged, fell ill, and one by one, they left this world.
And I remained in our sprawling house, alone.
Now, my friends have families, children, grandchildren. I meet with them less frequently because I don’t want to feel the pain – the pain of another’s happiness that could have been mine.
Strangers’ Children – My Solace
To fill the void, I began volunteering at playgrounds – painting slides, fixing swings. Sometimes I tidied up the yards of nurseries.
I don’t need money. I sold all my parents’ land and inheritance.
I donated part to charity, gave to schools, and children’s homes.
One day, a friend asked me:
“Why don’t you contribute to old age homes?”
I smirked.
“This is my way of getting back at the parents who made me lonely.”
Yes, it’s harsh. But now, I only believe in children. They are the future.
When I’m gone, my home will go to the school I attended. Let them use it for the greater good.
I can no longer change my life. But perhaps I can help other children, so their destinies turn out differently.
