I want to break up my son’s marriage. Why does he need such a thoughtless wife?
There’s a stereotype that mothers-in-law are wicked witches who torment innocent daughters-in-law for no apparent reason. Browse through internet forums, and you’ll find plenty of such stories. And here I am, the “wicked mother-in-law” who isn’t merely nitpicking but is determined to end her son’s marriage. And you know what? I’m not ashamed. I’m sure I’m right, and I’ll explain why while my heart aches for my boy.
My son, Paul, met this girl, Jessica, about five years ago. However, he introduced her to me much later, only after proposing and deciding to wed. From the start, I didn’t like her, and as it turned out, my intuition was spot on — this girl turned out to be a real nightmare.
I invited them to our cozy home in the suburbs of Birmingham. Jessica had barely stepped in when her phone rang. Instead of apologizing and saying she’d call back, she started chatting with a friend right there in the hallway. Fifteen minutes! I stood there, teeth clenched, as she giggled and discussed some nonsense. I could already sense something was off with her.
At dinner, I didn’t ask her any serious questions — I just observed. But when the conversation turned to her life and plans, everything became apparent. She barely graduated high school, was in her final year of community college, and had no plans for further education. Why bother? According to her, a woman’s role is to be a wife and mother — period. She didn’t intend to work. Her parents currently support her, and soon, that burden would fall on my son. She lived with her parents but planned to move into our home after the wedding. And the cherry on top: she’s pregnant. Her bump was small, and they wanted to marry quickly before her “secret” was out. She acted like the world owed her something, and her looks were her ticket to an easy life.
But the worst part came when Paul stepped out for a smoke. Jessica instantly pulled out a pack of slim cigarettes and joined him. Pregnant and smoking! I was outraged. What about the child? It didn’t seem to concern her.
Soon after, they married and moved into my home. I left for work early and returned in the evening, finding Jessica sleeping till noon, lazing around, doing nothing, and frequently sneaking out for a cigarette. She took a leave from college due to her pregnancy and lounged about. Each evening, I was met by a chaotic mess: a pile of dirty dishes, scattered belongings, and an empty fridge. She didn’t cook or clean — she just stayed glued to her phone, chatting with her mother or friends.
When I asked her to help around the house, she brushed me off, citing morning sickness or fatigue. Yet that didn’t stop her from hitting cafes with friends or clubbing with Paul till the early hours. I bit my tongue for my son’s sake. Then my grandson was born. And what do you think? Jessica didn’t change a bit. Paul was the one getting up at night, taking the baby for walks, and going to doctors. I helped in the evenings and weekends, exhausted after work. And Jessica? She lay on the couch, scrolling on her phone and smoking as if nothing had changed. Anger boiled inside me.
I tried talking to her — calm at first, then more firmly. She ignored me, smirking boldly. But the worst part was that Paul always defended her. When I pointed out her laziness, he would stand firm: “Mum, she’s trying, it’s just hard for her.” We argued. He yelled at me, but not a word of reproach for her. My son, my only boy, blinded by love for this useless girl.
The tension became unbearable. One day, I snapped and shouted, “Take your wife and child and leave! Live on your own, let’s see how you manage!” They left. Paul was upset and stopped speaking to me. I tried explaining, showing him the truth, but he shut me out. Now he rarely calls or visits. I’m sure Jessica is turning him against me, driving a wedge between us. I love my son more than life, and I adore my grandson with all my heart.
I’ve made up my mind: Paul doesn’t need a wife like her. He deserves better — a smart, caring woman, not this lazy, irresponsible girl. He may not see it now, but I’ll do everything to see their marriage fall apart. I won’t stop until I free my son from these shackles. I’m confident that one day he’ll realize I was right, hug me, and say, “Thank you, Mum.” And we’ll raise our grandson ourselves — without her worthless shadow, her indifference, or her cigarette smoke. I won’t back down because this is my battle for my son’s happiness.
