“Two weeks to pack your things and find somewhere else to live.” Daughters are upset.
“What do you mean you don’t want to change your surname?” – my mother-in-law shouted across the Registry Office
Ella never planned on getting married. But at 19 she found herself expecting a child with her classmate, whom she had been seeing for three years. She felt she had no choice – she didn’t want her baby to grow up without a father.
Even though he was older, he was immature and a total mummy’s boy. He didn’t run from responsibility, though – he agreed they should marry and raise the baby together. So, wedding preparations began.
Ella would have been content to just tie the knot quietly, but the families insisted on a big, lavish do. She couldn’t understand why they’d spend a fortune on guests when that money could buy essentials for their baby. No one listened. The restaurant, the wedding dress, the guests – all picked out by her mother-in-law and her sister!
When she was sent off for fittings, she didn’t even want to go. She pictured a dress with a million frills and rhinestones—not her style, and her fiancé’s family weren’t known for their taste. When she refused, her relatives labelled her ungrateful and got furious. She didn’t care—she had bigger worries: her A-levels, her exams, and getting ready for the baby’s arrival.
At the Registry Office, she wore a simple white dress that suited her and looked great. That’s where things took a turn.
Her new in-laws had no idea Ella planned to keep her own surname. The groom was in on it and didn’t mind, but the mother-in-law exploded and shrieked across the room:
“What do you mean you don’t want to change your name?”
Ella just smiled and stepped aside. Tomorrow was round two – the reception in her husband’s home village, surrounded by his entire family. She needed to save her strength. The marriage only lasted a few years. John turned out to be a useless husband and an even worse dad. Every weekend, he sat glued to his computer, ignoring his family. When Ella’s patience finally ran out, she packed her bags and left.
Her mother-in-law wasn’t happy about it. But our heroine breathed a sigh of relief—at last, she felt free and truly happy. Why on earth wont you take his surname?! hissed my mother-in-law, her voice echoing through the marble
My mother-in-law decided she rather fancied the idea of moving into my flat, handing her own over to
Wed held onto this hope for so long that my mother would finally retire, move to the countryside, and
Gran set his grandson and his wife out on their ear and decided, at the ripe old age of 80, to live on her own.
My son and his wife gave me a flat when I retired Today, my son Edward and my daughter-in-law Charlotte
I buy myself high-quality turkey and prepare my own steamed cutlets, while he gets the out-of-date pork.
For Five Years, She Thought She Was Living With Her Husband—But Realised She Wanted to Be With Him Like a Mother
Helena grew up in a quiet English town, where she and Alex fell for each other and decided to leave their rural roots behind. Telling their parents they were off to London to save for a wedding, they followed the trendy route—trainers and jeans at the ceremony, gifts strictly in cash, and a simple buffet in place of a lavish reception. Instead of splashing out, they put the cash gifts toward their mortgage, while their mums held a modest family party back home.
Five years passed. The couple chose to delay having children, focusing on repaying their home loan. Helena’s mum, a fiercely independent single mother, constantly reminded her daughter she was ready for grandchildren, but Helena felt no rush.
Suddenly, Helena started arguing with her husband over things she once ignored: his long phone calls, his interest in horror films, his lack of effusive compliments about her cooking—little things that left her feeling misunderstood. She called me for advice. Our hour-long chat revealed Helena’s yearning for admiration and involvement, the sort of attention her emotionally demonstrative mother gave her—attention her quieter husband struggled to provide.
Delving into their relationship, it became clear Helena expected the same emotional nurturing from Alex that she’d received from her mum, despite not having a father figure to model alternative dynamics. When I gently suggested she was seeking a marriage more like her relationship with her mum, she was shocked, but ultimately agreed.
“How do I get a divorce from my mother?” she asked. “Simple,” I replied. “Whenever you find yourself criticising Alex, imagine your caring mum is with you, not him—he can’t compete with her.”
“That’s it!” she exclaimed.
And just like that, the complaints began to fade. For five years, she believed she was living with her husband, but in truth, she longed to live with him
One day, I was meandering through Marks & Spencer and spotted my usually disinterested sister, Rebecca
Nearly two years ago, my husband uttered a sentence that seemed to drift like fog through the corridors
