“I thought I’d been lucky with my daughter-in-law… But after the wedding, she became a different person.”
When my son, Alex, first introduced me to Sarah, I immediately felt fortunate. She seemed straightforward, neat, and domestic. Their apartment was always tidy with everything in its place, she cooked delicious meals, and she was always polite, cheerful, and welcoming. I never heard a harsh word from her. We often spent time together, either they’d visit me at my cottage or I’d drop by their place for tea. I never felt like an outsider; rather, Sarah always aimed to assist and please. I was thrilled — both for my son and for myself. Finally, he seemed to have found a real family, I thought.
They had been dating for only six months when Alex proposed to her. Naturally, Sarah accepted but immediately expressed her dream of having a beautiful wedding — with a white dress, limousine, and photographer. They didn’t have much money at the time, so they decided to save up for six months. I didn’t interfere — I didn’t have extra money myself, and offering advice without being asked isn’t always the best idea. The young couple would decide their path together. The most important thing was their love for each other.
The wedding went just as they dreamed. I gave them money instead of unnecessary gifts so they could choose what they needed. Most of the guests were friends of the couple, and unfortunately, my friend — Alex’s godmother — couldn’t come. I stayed for a while and then headed home, not wanting to intrude on the young crowd’s fun. We had already agreed to gather the following day at my place for a small celebration.
The next day, my friend and I prepared salads and a barbecue. The newlyweds arrived, but Sarah seemed sullen and uncommunicative, spent the day with her phone, and barely glanced my way. While Alex helped a bit, she didn’t lift a finger. I attributed it to exhaustion — after all, weddings can be stressful.
However, this behavior became a pattern. Our meetings became infrequent and always initiated by me. I didn’t push, understanding that a young couple needs to adjust and settle in. Yet, I wanted to see my son at least once a month.
On Alex’s birthday, I bought him a gift and called, hoping to stop by for just five minutes to deliver it. He told me they weren’t celebrating due to financial constraints. I understood. But half an hour later, Sarah called back coldly saying, “We want to spend time alone, don’t be offended.” I thought maybe they were planning a romantic surprise. However, I later discovered they had friends over as guests but had not told or invited me at all. I felt ignored.
I felt like a stranger. Unwanted. Forgotten.
A while later, I again wanted to stop by since I was in the area. I called and Sarah answered, saying they weren’t home. Later, Alex casually mentioned they had been home all day. I chose not to confront him, thinking perhaps Sarah was going through a tough time or might return to normal eventually. I didn’t want to turn my son against her nor be the typical mother-in-law from jokes and stories.
The breaking point came recently when I literally bumped into Sarah at the store. Being polite, I greeted her. She…acted as though she didn’t notice me and passed by as if I were invisible. I was stunned. Am I so alien to her that I don’t even merit a simple greeting?
I haven’t called Alex to complain. Although I’m tempted to reach out to Sarah and ask — what did I do wrong? Why has she turned away? But I keep quiet, clinging to the hope that it isn’t permanent. Maybe she’s expecting a child and it’s just hormones or, as people say, maybe her head’s not in the right place. Or perhaps… she simply is that way. Maybe all her friendliness before the wedding was just an act to impress. Now, the mask might be off.
I’m uncertain whether to confront her directly. Maybe over time, things will sort themselves out. But for now, I feel unnecessary. And it’s terrifying. Especially when you are not an enemy, not a stranger, but the mother of the man she calls husband.
Please, share your thoughts — should a mother-in-law speak openly when feeling such pain? Or is it better to endure and hope that one day the daughter-in-law understands? Why has Sarah changed so much since the wedding? Where is the girl whose presence once genuinely made me happy?
