The one thing Ive always dreaded in life is an angry mother-in-law. Id been married once before. In that regard, I suppose I was fortunate. My first husband, Thomas, grew up in a childrens home, so there were no parents to hurl judgments my way. Not that it mattered since things fell apart between us rather quickly. We were only married five years before I filed for divorce.
When Thomas and I tied the knot, I was still at university. Not long after, he started drinking heavily and racking up debtsdebts that also became my responsibility as his wife. I ended up leaving my studies behind to get a job and deal with our financial troubles.
Looking back, that marriage only brought me headaches. When I finally divorced him, it felt like an enormous weight off my chest. For two years, I lived on my own, slowly stitching myself back together. Thats when I met David. Hed never been married and had never truly settled down with anyone before me. Our relationship bloomed quickly, and before long, he proposed. I gladly accepted. Not long after, we went round to meet his mother.
From the moment I stepped through the front door, I clocked the look on her facepure disapproval. She muttered a terse hello, then disappeared into another room. At first, I wondered if something was wrong with me or the way I was dressed, but Id chosen something perfectly sensible.
At dinner, Davids mum looked me up and down, barely speaking a word. Her silence was louder than anything she could have said, and it made me squirm. Eventually, as if she could hold it in no longer, she said sharply, So, you havent even got a degree, have you? Am I right in thinking you havent finished your education? She sneered faintly, her words dripping with disdain.
I took a steadying sip of my tea and replied as calmly as I could, No, I havent finished university yet, but I do plan to, once life settles down. She scoffed. Plans to finish? And when will you actually be a wife, then? When will you have the children, cook meals, and keep the house in order? You think youre some sort of princess. She laughed coldly and set her mug down hard on the table. Let me tell you, my son doesnt need someone like you at all.
She looked me up and down again and added, Look at youpretty face, nice figure, but youve not a brain in your head. The words stung. I got up and went straight to the bathroom, tears streaming down my face. A complete stranger tearing me down for no reason, while David just sat there and said nothing. Thankfully, we didnt stay much longer. After that, I swore to myself Id never return to her house. But she started visiting ours and continued with her little snide remarks, always finding a way to cut me down.
Eventually, I went to see a counsellor, hoping for some sound advice. A few sessions in and I realised Davids mum was a classic manipulatorI was simply letting her get under my skin because my upbringing had taught me to keep quiet and not make a fuss. The next time she started with her insults, I asked her to leave my home. Since then, we havent spoken, and honestly, I feel perfectly fine about it. David couldnt really care less either.
If theres anything Ive learned, its that sometimes youve got to stand up for yourself, even if it means standing alone.
