23October2025
Dear Mrs. Thatcher,
Im writing this in my notebook because I need to get everything out before I hand James back to you.
It hurts that I cant call you Mum the way I hoped we would when you first introduced me to your son. I always imagined myself as a wife; my close friends had been married for years and I watched, with a pinch of envy, how they cared for each other, showed respect and love, and built a home together.
I dreamed of a family where a man would always be by my side, a solid support, where children could grow up and we would look after them as a team. I also longed to nurture my husband, to make him feel my love, and to be able to talk to him about anything.
When I first saw how James behaved toward you, I thought you had raised exactly the kind of man I wanted. Before the wedding you said something that set the tone for what lay ahead. You may have forgotten it, but I havent, and I regret not giving those words the weight they deserved. You told me, My son is used to looking after just one woman. That short sentence summed up the upbringing you gave him from childhood.
James never refuses to dash to the chemist for your pills, even though the pharmacy is just a stones throw from your front door. If your entry door squeaks, he rushes in with oil and a rag, so you never have to worry about such a serious problem. He never minds the creaking doors throughout our flat, nor the stubborn wardrobe that refuses to close properly.
When Thomas dropped me off at home, instead of taking you both for a walk in the park, you made a scene, accusing me of being lazy, selfish and accustomed to an easy life. And why not? Its far more comfortable to drive than to catch a train, and hauling heavy luggage yourself isnt exactly a brilliant idea. Still, you seemed to want a breath of fresh air.
Thomas is a wonderful son. When you couldnt sleep one night and called him, complaining about how terrible you felt, he didnt think about the fact that we both had to be at work the next morning. He grabbed a cab because hed had a few drinks earlier and didnt want to risk driving. Instead of thanking him, you said there was nothing wrong with abstaining from a drink if his mother might need help at night. Of course you can abstain from anything, not just alcohol, because hes your son and Im only his wife.
I commend you for not giving me a share of James in our relationship, even though its absurd to think of sharing a man. You dont want him to be divided with anyone.
Thank heavens we dont have children yet. They would never notice straight away, but they wouldnt be able to ask for dads time either; Grandmother has priority. Your caring son didnt support me even when I truly needed it; my friend Lucy stepped in, understanding that depression would help me no further. I had hoped for a few words of encouragement, compassion and understanding from James, but instead he once again rushed to help you.
Yes, I admit I lost. I could never become for him what you are, despite my best efforts. Its a shame all that work went unnoticed by James. He truly loves one woman you. The words of love he whispered to me were merely a formality, a protocol between fiancés.
I want to be needed by a man, not a shiny, perfect husband who arranges everything in neat order as your son does. Id rather have him come home occasionally after a pint with workmates, something James would never allow himself. Most important, I need him to worry about my setbacks and rejoice in my successes.
Im relieved to have realised that Thomas will never be that kind of man. We havent had kids because you never needed strong emotions; James saved his heart for you alone. That frugality pushed me toward pregnancy. Now Im carrying another person and a little boy who will be born in three months.
I promise to raise that boy to be a proper man, but not in the way you understand the word. Thank you for the experience I gained while married to your son. I am returning him to you, as healthy, caring and attentive as ever. May you both be happy.
Your former daughterinlaw.
