I want to push my son towards divorce. Why on earth does he need such a dim-witted wife?
Theres this stereotype that mothers-in-law are wicked witches who torment their poor, helpless daughters-in-law for no reason. Scroll through any online forumyoull find dozens of such tales. And here I am, the so-called “evil mother-in-law,” not just nitpicking but dead set on wrecking my sons marriage. And you know what? Im not ashamed. Im convinced Im right, and Ill tell you why, while fury and heartache for my boy bubble inside me.
My son, Oliver, met this girl, Tiffany, about five years ago. But he only introduced her to me much laterafter hed already proposed. First impressions matter, and mine of her was spot onshe turned out to be an absolute nightmare.
I invited them over to our cosy flat in the outskirts of Manchester. Tiffany hadnt even taken her shoes off when her phone rang. Instead of excusing herself, she yammered away to her mate right there in the hallway. Fifteen minutes! I stood there grinding my teeth while she giggled over some nonsense. Right then, I knew something wasnt right.
At dinner, I didnt grill herjust watched. But when the conversation turned to her life and plans, the truth came out. She barely scraped through secondary school, was dawdling through her last year at college, and had zero intentions of going to university. Why bother? According to her, a womans place is as a wife and motherend of story. She had no plans to work. Her parents footed her bills now, and soon, I suspected, that burden would shift to Oliver. She still lived at home but planned to move into our flat after the wedding. And the cherry on top? She was pregnant. Early days, so the wedding had to be quick before the bump gave her away. She carried herself like the world owed her everything, as if her looks were a free pass to a life of leisure.
The worst came when Oliver stepped out for a smoke on the balcony. Tiffany promptly whipped out a pack of slim cigarettes and followed. Pregnantand smoking! I nearly choked on my outrage. What about the baby? She didnt seem to care.
They married soon after, and we all lived together in my flat. I left for work at dawn and returned in the evening to find Tiffany still in bed at noon, lounging about, doing nothing, and constantly sneaking out for a fag. Shed taken a leave from college, citing pregnancy. Every evening, chaos greeted me: a mountain of dirty dishes, clothes strewn everywhere, an empty fridge. She didnt cook, didnt cleanjust glued herself to her phone, nattering to her mum or mates.
When I asked her to pitch in, shed wave me offmorning sickness one minute, exhaustion the next. Yet she still managed café trips with friends or clubbing with Oliver till dawn. I bit my tonguefor my sons sake. Then the baby arrived. And guess what? Tiffany didnt change a bit. Oliver was up all night with the baby, pushed the pram, took him to the doctor. I helped evenings and weekends, exhausted from work. And her? Lazing on the sofa, scrolling, smoking like it was nothing. It made my blood boil.
I tried talking to hercalmly, then firmly. She smirked and ignored me. Worse, Oliver always took her side. When I pointed out her laziness, hed dig in: “Mum, shes trying, its just hard for her.” We fought. He shouted at menever at her. My boy, my only child, blinded by love for this empty-headed girl.
The tension became unbearable. One day, I snapped: “Take your wife and child and get out! See how you manage on your own!” They left. Oliver stopped speaking to me. I tried to make him see the truth, but he shut me out. Now he barely calls, never visits. Im sure Tiffanys poisoning him against me, driving a wedge between us. And I love my son more than life itselfI adore my grandson with all my heart.
Ive decided: Oliver doesnt need a wife like this. He deserves bettersomeone smart, caring, not this lazy, irresponsible girl. He might not see it yet, but Ill do whatever it takes to end this marriage. I wont stop until my son is free. One day, hell understand. Hell hug me and say, “Thanks, Mum.” And well raise that boy rightwithout her shadow, her indifference, or her cigarette smoke. This is my battle for my boys happiness, and I wont back down.
