You hear stories like these and think, “That will not be me.” You feel that love will become stronger, and that your lover will always have your back. I believed it as well. But after ten years of marriage, I’ve realized something even more difficult to accept: my husband’s devotion to his mother is gradually erasing our life together. Even after ten years of marriage, my mother-in-law still makes all of the decisions. She recently decided that we will move into her basement to be closer to her.
I hope I was exaggerating. The first time she mentioned it, it was inserted into the conversation like a casual jest. ‘I’m thinking about cleaning up the basement,’ she replied, stirring her tea. ‘Just in case you two want to get closer sometime soon.’ I laughed. Nervously. Surely that was not genuine. Just another of her bizarre little power plays—she has a lot of them.
Her husband claimed it was only a talk. Nothing would happen without her. ” However, the very following day, my spouse began to discuss it as if it were a legitimate alternative. ‘She has the space,’ he explained. ‘It may help us save money.’ I glanced at him, ‘You’re not really considering this… right?’ He insisted he wasn’t and said it was all chatter. That we would make decisions collectively. But what about his mom? She does not wait for anyone’s decision.
She always inserts herself into everything. If we do not react to her texts promptly, she will call. If we don’t answer, she will use FaceTime. If we are silent over dinner, she will begin to question what is wrong in that too-sweet voice that indicates she has already thought we are angry with her. And when does she want something? She gets it eventually. Whether it is through persistence, guilt, or simple manipulation. She never yells or demands. But she hovers, gives clues, shows up, offers ‘help,’ and wears you down to the point where it feels easier to just go along.”
He claims to perceive it, but his actions suggest differently. My husband says he sees it. He is aware that she oversteps. He says he realizes how exhausting it is. He says things like, ‘You act like I don’t know how to say no to her.’ Well. My husband vowed he would say no. But when I got home yesterday, I was surprised to see our living room half-packed. My favorite coffee mugs covered in newspaper, boxes labeled ‘books and blankets,’ and our framed portrait of Paris bubble-wrapped like a casualty. I had no idea he’d started packing.
Not a word to me. Not a chat. Just boxes. As if our lives were something he could just fold up and shift while I was at work—my teaching job, by the way, is nowhere near where she lives. He didn’t even consider it. Or perhaps he did and decided it wasn’t important. He claims it will save money. His mother simply ‘wants to help.’ The move is ‘temporary.’ That I am overreacting. But in reality, it is a decision. “He’s chosen her—again.”
She is fed up with being second in her own marriage. “He will tell me he is torn. That he is in the center. That he despises how this affects me. However, when it comes to pushing back, he never does. I stopped expecting him to. I am not trying to compete with his mother. I’m attempting to make a life with a man who still views himself as her child before recognizing himself as my partner. And I’m tired.
I don’t want to be the antagonist in his story, the wife who ‘hates his parents.’ I don’t detest her. I despise that she’s become the third person in my marriage. That no matter how old we become, she has more influence over our life than I do. That her approval is more important than my comfort, voice, and wants. I’m not sure what’s ahead for us. I have not unpacked those boxes. I have not even inquired why he packed them. I just keep passing past them, my heart falling a little more each time.
Perhaps he will tell me it was a mistake. Perhaps he will not. But I do know this: I am tired of being the only one battling for our marriage. Because if he can’t say no to her, he must have already said no to me. The trouble is, he’s already halfway through the transfer. And if he leaves, I won’t be able to afford our rent without him. But what about moving in with him? That is not even on the table for me. So I’m left wondering what my life will be like after this.
I guess I’m prepared to go away. But how can I leave all of this behind? Ten years of marriage. Was I overreacting? Is it normal to question myself after experiencing anything like this? “Please help me make sense of it all.” Thank you for sharing this bold and vulnerable message! Here’s our wisdom, delivered with love, perspective, and optimism.