Our daughter is desperate to marry a layabout, and we’re horrified!
In our cosy little town up in Yorkshire, where winters stretch long and folk value the warmth of home, my husband and I have always tried to give our girl the best in life. But now our hearts ache with worry—our little girl is set to marry a lad who seems good for nothing but empty promises and laziness.
My husband, Edward, and I know how hard it is to find the right one. Back in my day, my parents were dead set against Edward. Mum feared his obsession with tinkering with old Land Rovers, convinced it was reckless. Dad had hoped I’d marry his mate’s son, a well-off engineer. But I fell head over heels for Edward—his kindness, his hard work, and the way he cared won me over. I defied my parents, and time proved me right. Together, we raised our daughter, Emily, pouring everything into ensuring she’d never go without.
Emily’s always been our pride—bright, driven, full of fire. Two years ago, she started uni in Manchester and met this lad, Daniel. At first, we were happy for her—young love’s a beautiful thing! But the more we saw of Daniel, the more uneasy we grew. Now she’s announced they’re getting married. Edward and I are horrified because Daniel’s bone idle, and that’s putting it mildly.
We’ve seen it with our own eyes, time and again. Every summer, Emily picks up work—sometimes in a café, sometimes temping in an office—saving up for a holiday with Daniel. And what does he do? Nothing. Not once in two years has he bothered with even a part-time job. She carries the weight while he lounges about, acting like it’s his due. It breaks our hearts—our daughter deserves better!
Once, Daniel’s parents were doing up their flat. Hoping to bridge the gap, we offered help. We brought tools, paint, wallpaper. And what happened? While Edward and I rolled up our sleeves, sanding walls and hanging paper, Daniel sat in his room glued to his computer, lost in some game. Didn’t even offer us a cuppa. Here we were, near strangers sweating in his home, and he, a grown lad, couldn’t lift a finger. It hit me like a bolt—is this really who my daughter wants to spend her life with?
Daniel lives in his own little world, buried in screens, barely speaking unless it’s about games or how “everything’s rubbish.” I can’t picture Emily happy with someone like that. She’s a spark of light; he’s dragging her down into his swamp of apathy. This marriage will trap her, but how do I make her see it?
We’ve tried talking to Emily, but love’s made her deaf. Every word about Daniel feels like an attack to her. “You just don’t know him!” she cries, eyes glistening. I see her torn between him and our warnings, and it shreds my soul. I don’t want her making mistakes she’ll regret for life.
Night after night, I lie awake picturing Emily, full of hope, walking down the aisle to a man who’ll never value her or her efforts. I fear she’ll sacrifice her dreams for someone who won’t even get off the sofa. How do we reach her? How do we stop her from a choice that could break her? A mother’s heart knows—this marriage is a disaster. But how do I save my girl?
Sometimes love blinds us to the truth. The hardest lesson is watching someone you cherish walk into a storm, arms wide open, even as you shout warnings into the wind.
