**Diary Entry A Mothers Struggle**
They say mothers-in-law are nothing but wicked witches who torment their daughters-in-law for no reason. Browse any forum online, and youll find countless stories like that. Well, here I amthe so-called “evil mother-in-law” who isnt just nitpicking but actively trying to end my sons marriage. And you know what? Im not ashamed. I know Im right, and Ill tell you why, even as anger and heartache boil inside me for my boy.
My son, Oliver, met this girl, Poppy, about five years ago. But he only introduced her to me much laterafter hed already proposed and decided to marry her. From the first glance, I didnt like her, and as it turned out, my gut was rightshe was an absolute nightmare.
I invited them over to my cosy home in the suburbs of Manchester. Poppy hadnt even taken her shoes off when her phone rang. Instead of apologising and saying shed call back, she started gossiping with a friend right there in the hallway. Fifteen minutes! I stood there, gritting my teeth, while she giggled about nonsense. Right then, I knew something was off.
At dinner, I avoided probing too deeplyjust watched. But when the conversation turned to her life and plans, everything became clear. She barely scraped through secondary school, was in her last year of college, and had no intention of university. Why bother? In her words, a womans place was to be a wife and motherfull stop. She had no plans to work, living off her parents now and presumably my son later. Still at home with Mum and Dad, she expected 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 acted as if the world owed her everything, as if her looks were a ticket to an easy life.
The worst came when Oliver stepped out for a smoke on the balcony. Poppy pulled 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 early, came back in the evening, only to find Poppy still in bed at noon, lounging around doing nothing, ducking out for another cigarette. Shed taken maternity leave from college, claiming pregnancy complications. Every night, chaos greeted mea sink full of dirty dishes, clothes everywhere, an empty fridge. She didnt cook, didnt cleanjust glued to her phone, yammering to her mum or mates.
When I asked for help, shed wave me offmorning sickness, fatigue. Yet she still managed nights out at cafés or clubs with Oliver until dawn. I bit my tonguefor his sake. Then my grandson was born. And Poppy? Didnt change a bit. Oliver was up at night with the baby, pushing the pram, taking him to the doctor. I helped evenings and weekends, exhausted from work. And her? Lazing on the sofa, scrolling her phone, smoking like it was nothing. It made my blood boil.
I tried talkingcalmly, then firmly. Shed smirk, brushing me off. But the worst was Oliver always defending her. When I pointed out her laziness, her uselessness, hed shut me down: *”Mum, shes tryingits just hard for her.”* Wed argue. Hed shout at me, never at her. My boy, my only son, blind with love for this empty-headed girl.
The tension became unbearable. One day, I snapped: *”Take your wife and child and get out! Live on your ownsee how you manage!”* They left. Oliver cut me off, barely speaking. I tried to make him see the truth, but he shut me out. Now he rarely calls, never visits. Im certain Poppys poisoning him against me, driving a wedge between us. And yet, I love him more than life itself, and my grandson with all my heart.
Ive made my choiceOliver doesnt need a wife like her. He deserves better: someone sharp, caring, not this lazy, selfish girl. If he cant see it yet, Ill make sure their marriage crumbles. I wont stop until hes free. One day, hell understand, hug me, and say, *”Thank you, Mum.”* And well raise my grandson rightwithout her neglect, without that cloud of smoke. This is my fight for my boys happiness, and I wont back down.
**Lesson learned:** Sometimes love means making the hard choiceseven when they cost you everything.
