My Son Brought Home His New Girlfriend, and Something Just Didn’t Seem Right A few days ago, my son introduced his girlfriend to our family. She’s actually only a few years younger than me—perhaps four or five years—which means my son has fallen for someone close to my age and now wants to marry her. As if that wasn’t surprising enough, he also revealed she has a young daughter. I welcomed them warmly. The most important thing is that my son is happy, so I’m happy—but I couldn’t help needing to talk with someone about it. After they left, I immediately phoned my closest friend, whom I affectionately call my “calming medicine.” No matter the situation, she’s always there, offering support and, more importantly, advice that truly works. I told her the story and asked for help figuring out the best way forward. We spoke at length and would have talked even longer if my son hadn’t come home wanting to discuss things further. Honestly, I was worried I’d hear something even more shocking. “Mum, I’d like her and her little girl to come live with us,” he told me. I was unsure how to respond, but I agreed—they should move in. He was thrilled and went off to share the news. But all night I had one nagging thought: Does this woman really love my son? Or is she simply joining our family because she knows we have a large home in central London and plenty of money? That thought lingered as I drifted off to sleep. In my dream, my late husband appeared and assured me, “Everything is fine.” And in the morning, I realised my son is not naïve—he understands what he’s doing, and even if he makes a mistake, he’ll know how to fix it.

A few days ago, my son brought his girlfriend home. She’s a bit younger than I amprobably about four or five years. My son has fallen in love with someone my age and wants to marry her. I was quite surprised to learn she also has a little daughter.

I welcomed them both warmly. The most important thing is that my son is happy, and that makes me happy too. Still, I needed someone to talk to. As soon as they left, I called my best friendmy calming tonic. No matter what’s happening, she always stands by me, gives solid advice, and somehow makes everything feel better. So, I rang her up, relayed the story, and asked her what she thought I should do.

She chatted with me for ages; our conversation wouldve gone on even longer if my son hadnt come back home. He wanted to talk. I worried he had another bombshell to drop. Mum, Id like her and her daughter to move in with us, he said.

I didnt know quite what to say. Eventually, I agreedthey could move in. My son beamed and hurried off to give them the news.

But I couldnt shake a nagging worry: could this woman really love my son, or does she know we live in a big house in central London and come from a well-off family? Is that why shes so keen?

That thought lingered with me as I drifted off to sleep. I dreamt of my late husband telling me, Its all right. When morning came, I realised my son isnt naive. He knows what hes doing, and even if he makes a mistake, hell fix it himself.