My son is so dominated by his wife that he only meets me in secret.
I, Helen Wilson, raised my son, James, alone. Perhaps I’m to blame for his dependence on his wife, but the realisation breaks my heart. My childhood friend, Margaret, told me bluntly: “You coddled him too much.” Her words stung, but they made me think. Now I live in a small town near Leeds, barely seeing James or my granddaughter because his wife, Victoria, has completely taken over, and I’ve become a stranger in their lives.
James was born long after I’d moved on from his father, with whom I’d lived for four years unmarried. My father, a successful businessman, bought me a flat after school so I could be independent. In my youth, my flat was the heart of every party, but everything changed when I met James’s father. Love felt eternal, but the pregnancy was unexpected. I never doubted keeping the baby—I already dreamed of holding my child. His father tried to win me back, but I pulled away. We split before James was born. My parents urged me to stay for the sake of our son, but I insisted, “I’ll be both mother and father to him.” My father sighed, “Your life, your choice.”
When James turned seven, my father passed away. Until then, we wanted for nothing—toys, clothes, holidays—he had it all. He was never spoiled, and my friends marvelled, “How did you raise such a well-behaved boy with so much privilege?” I’d smile and say, “I just love him. He’s my only man.” I never imagined my “only man” would grow up and choose another woman, pushing me aside. I was consumed with his education, his future. To keep him out of compulsory service, I pulled strings so he served in a non-combat role, and every day I brought him homemade meals, just to see him smile.
After service, James went to university, where in his third year, he met Victoria. The moment I saw her, my heart sank. She was beautiful, but her gaze—cold and commanding—made me uneasy. I knew then: this girl would control him. And she did. He became her shadow, fulfilling her every whim, spending his wages on gifts, inventing surprises just to please her. Victoria didn’t outright manipulate him—she just let him love her, and he dissolved into her. Our chats became him gushing about her. I felt him slipping away but hid my hurt, forcing politeness with his fiancée.
Before the wedding, Victoria laid out her demands: a lavish ceremony. I spent nearly my entire savings to indulge her. But it wasn’t enough—I signed my flat over to James, moving back to my family home. That decision was my undoing. When Victoria learned the flat was in his name alone, she threw a fit. The next day, James rushed to the solicitor and added her. My sacrifice meant nothing. From then on, Victoria resented me, and I became unwelcome in the home I once owned.
When their daughter, Emily, was born, things worsened. Victoria ruled James completely: he worked, provided for the family, then obeyed her every order at home. She invented excuses to keep me from Emily. “She’s allergic to your cats,” she claimed. “You bring fur on your clothes—it harms her.” It was nonsense, but James believed her. He wouldn’t meet my eyes when he said, “I’ll visit you sometimes.” His words cut deep. My son, the boy I raised, was now a stranger, obeying a wife who’d walled him off from me.
Now James sneaks over like a thief. We talk for half an hour about nothing, his eyes darting away before he hurries off, afraid he’ll upset Victoria. I barely see Emily—only at school plays or dance recitals, under Victoria’s watchful glare, never allowed a proper hug. My granddaughter’s eyes are starting to mirror her mother’s cold stare, and it terrifies me. My heart aches: I’m losing not just my son, but her too.
I want to fix this, but how? Victoria’s built a wall I can’t break through. James, my boy, is her puppet, and I’m an outsider. Margaret was right—I smothered him, and now he can’t stand up to her. But how do I mend this without tearing his family apart? Every secret visit is a reminder of what I’ve lost. I live with the pain, longing to hold Emily, to talk properly with James, but Victoria stands between us like an immovable barrier. And I fear this rift will never heal.
