My husband is from Romania and his mother came to live with us for a year while waiting for her green card; the plan was she would then spend six months a year with us in America and six months a year in Romania. I knew she was the matriarch of the family, and my husband was her first boy…

But this woman hated me on sight. She said the most awful things to me. I was too young, too pretty to be with her son for anything other than his money (I told her “if you can say that, then you have no idea what a wonderful man your own son is”). She would do things like go through my purse when I wasn’t looking and throw out my $40 Chanel lipstick. One of the most hurtful things she would do was turn around the pictures I had in the house of my mom, who died at age 34 when I was 12. She pitted my husband against me- she made it out like I was setting her up and lying about it.

The final straw came when I came home from a long, stressful day at work. I sat down at the kitchen table to go through the mail. Over the course of the 10 months she was with us by then, downstairs became “her domain”. I would retreat immediately upstairs to our bedroom and watch TV or read until my husband came home. She made him dinner every night (which I wasn’t allowed to eat with them). He would sit with her and have dinner and eventually come upstairs to greet me. When she went to bed, we were free to go downstairs and watch TV, etc.

She was most unhappy that I had the nerve to sit at “her” kitchen table. She picked up my sunglasses from where they were on the table and threw them against the wall; then she started berating me in Romanian. I ignored her and continued going through the mail, which infuriated her. She stood over me and continued yelling.

My dog, a little Yorkipoo who weighs all of eight pounds, was very upset about this. We went through a lot together during my previous marriage and she is still very sensitive to fighting or yelling of any kind. She stood next to my feet and started barking. As I reached down to calm her, my mother-in-law kicked her. Right in the face. My dog yelped and I could hear her teeth crack together.

I stood up so fast I knocked over the chair. I grabbed my dog and my purse and left in my car. I called my husband at work- slightly hysterical, I will admit. I told him “This is it. I am going to a hotel. Either she goes, or I go.” She flew home to Romania three days later. I can handle a bully but I cannot handle abuse of my dog, and my husband couldn’t either.

When it came time for her to have to return to the US due to her green card, I absolutely refused. Her green card was invalidated because she stayed outside the US for too long. I don’t know if we will try to sponsor her again in the future but it hasn’t come up in discussion lately.

I’ve been married 3 times. Ex #1’s mother told him, while I was still in the hospital after having my first child, that when he was ready to move home to call her and she’d come get him. She got him back about 2 weeks later, life was better without him. #2’s mother hated me from the day she laid eyes on me. She spent her time telling him how awful I was. Another short marriage.

But the worst? Was #3. What did she do? She loved me unconditionally. She loved the little girl I brought with me into the family. She stood by me through whatever happened in our lives, and stood up to her son in my defense. We divorced many years later, and I was still loved by my mother in law. The worst thing she did to me? After being a dear and cherished friend for 25 years, she died. I’ll miss that woman forever. What a real blessing she was.

*EDIT* Thank you all so much. 1k+ upvotes

Sadly I have too many…two that I can share.

My then fiancé and I spent the weekend with my soon to be mother in law. We had gotten in late and were promised a lazy morning. I woke up the next morning, walked into the kitchen non showered and rumpled to find my fiancé’s ex having coffee with his mom. She was dolled up and openly flirting with my fiancé. I felt humiliated. She had been invited by my MIL, I was intentionally uninformed.

The day of our wedding she showed up several hours late for pictures (I had communicated with everyone the need to be on time for pictures prior to the ceremony so we could get them over with and enjoy the rest of the day). She walked in making a show of herself and of course, no apologies. She did openly make some comments about how silly it was to take pictures prior to the wedding. Due to her tardiness we had to take a few pictures after the ceremony. I was told later that she shared with several guests how rude I was to make people wait to eat so I could have my picture taken, “that should have been done prior to the ceremony”. She also knew my own mother was battling cancer and I was struggling to pull this wedding off alone.

This is my first contribution to Quora. Thank you for the forum. Writing this was a weight off my shoulders and even my heart!

My now ex-husband and I were going thru a divorce and had amicably agreed to shared custody of our son. I had moved out of our home due to my ex becoming physically violent with me because he was angry that I wanted a divorce. He was a serial cheater, quit jobs on a whim, constantly depleted money needed to pay bills by partying at clubs with his friends. I was physically, emotionally and financially worn out and had enough. Needless to say he was a narcissist. One of my dear girlfriends allowed me and my son to share her studio apartment during that time. Thank god for dear friends.
In any event, the ex and I worked out a shared custody agreement although the divorce was not yet finalized. We used the daycare center as the “neutral zone” for pickups and drop offs to avoid unnecessary drama. All went well for a few months and then it happened. My ex had our son for the days leading up to Christmas and was supposed to bring him back on Christmas Day. He called to let me know that he and his new girlfriend were taking her kids to DisneyWorld and he wanted to take our son. They were going on the day after Christmas and he asked to keep our son for another two days. Although I really wanted to have my son home for Christmas I agreed to it knowing our son would enjoy Disney with his dad. So Christmas comes and goes and the day comes for me to pick our son up from daycare and he isn’t there. His dad had never dropped him off. I was annoyed but not too concerned as I thought his dad had changed plans and just not bothered to tell me. I called his phone, and left so many messages his voicemail filled up. Then I went to his work and found out he had quit his job the week before. Now I am trying to swallow the panic that is rising in the back of my throat. I go to our old home and his car is not there. I try to use my old key but he has changed the locks. I called a locksmith to let me in saying that I accidentally locked my self out. Since all of my ID still had the old address, they let me in. Once inside, my heart literally sank to the floor. Although the furniture was still there, all other personal items were gone. My son’s room had been cleaned out. My worst nightmare had come true. My ex had taken our son.

So I immediately call my MIL. She and my ex were extremely close and talked on the phone every day. I told her what was happening and asked if she had heard from him and if she knew what was going on. She assured me she had not spoken with him but would try to reach him and let me know. I then called the police and tried to file a missing persons report. The police stated that since custody was not finalized there was nothing they could do. Our agreement stipulated that neither of us could take our son out of state without the expressed consent of the other parent, but the police said I would need to prove our son was out of state before they could get involved.
Needless to say I was devastated, scared, angry and confused. There had been no argument or event that I was aware of that would trigger my ex’s decision. It was all very irrational. I didn’t know what frame of mind my ex was in and feared for our son's safety. When this happened our son was only 18 months old.

So I hired a detective to find them. All they could tell me was where they had been based on credit and bank card usage ( again from my bank accounts). I considered closing the accounts but was too afraid of what would happen to our son if his dad ran out of money.

This went on for 2 months. Every day I spoke with my MIL and each time she assured me that she had not heard from him but was still trying. And I stupidly believed her.

In the meantime I moved back into our old home as I was still paying the bills there and awaited news. I was on autopilot-forcing myself to get up, take a shower, go to work, do anything to keep it together. My mantra was DONT BREAK DOWN. DONT BREAK DOWN. DONT BREAK DOWN.

At night I would lay awake in bed willing the phone to ring and practice what I would do and say if my ex called. I wanted to be calm. I wanted to stay calm enough to find out if they were okay and then where they were. I practiced this a million times in my head. I would not let my emotions get the best of me. I had a plan. And I would stick to it.

Then one night weeks later, it happened. At 3:00am my phone rang, I picked it up and heard my ex-husband on the line. “Are you awake?” He asked somewhat nonchalantly. In my mind I answered him very calmly. I spoke to him exactly as I had practiced. In reality I let out a blood-curdling scream that was so loud my neighbors heard and banged on my front door to check on me. I dissolved into a heaving mass of anguish and hysteria. My neighbors broke open my door and found me on my bedroom floor. Phone still in my hand sobbing uncontrollably. My ex of course had hung up. And that’s when I lost it. Utterly and completely. I blamed myself for screwing up my chance to finally know for sure that my son was alive and well. I was done. There was no more going thru the motions after that. I just lay in bed and tried to remind myself to breathe. I called off from work and just lay in bed waiting. I was paralyzed with fear and anxiety. I was so angry at myself for not following the plan. For failing my son.

Later in the week the phone rang again. It was my ex. I dared not speak. He asked if I was calmer now, and I said yes. I silently listened on the phone as he tried to explain his reason(s) for taking off with our son. It basically came down to him having a problem with how I loved and took care of our son, but in the same breath wanted nothing to do with his father. Did I forget to mention he was a narcissist?

I just hung onto that phone and listened. I asked no clarifications, I just listened for clues of where they were, and validations that our son was okay.

I was able to glean three things from that very one-sided conversation:

My son was alive and well
His dad had indeed taken him out of state
My MIL knew all along what was going on and was trying to assist my ex in getting sole custody

I thanked my ex for calling back. I asked if he could put our son on the phone so that I could hear his voice. He was sleeping so we made arrangements for me to call back later that morning. I cannot tell you the relief and joy I felt when I heard that little voice in the phone. I asked if he was having fun and he said yes, but was ready to come home.

I made arrangements to fly out to get him the next day. Once home, the phone rings and it’s my MIL. Which was great because I had some misplaced anxiety that was looking for a home. She had the audacity to try to defend her actions. She knew her son had no interest in full custody of our son. He never even filed for it. He was quite content with our shared agreement especially since I never even bothered him about the child support payments he never made. Instead of chasing him for money I put that energy into working my way up the corporate ladder and making a good life for us. I never bad mouthed his dad to my son.

In the end my Monster In Law demanded to know if she would be allowed to see her grandson again. I said, absolutely! But you will need to see me first. And explain how as a human being and a mother you could lie to me the way you did. You could have at least let me know that you were in touch with his dad and that they were okay. You let me worry and wonder for three months if my child was alive or dead. And for that you will need to answer. So whenever you are ready, please come see us! ♥️

She never did. No cards no calls, nothing. Her son followed in her path. He cut off all contact with the only child he ever had. The MIL died last January and within six months my ex died. Although I held out hope my son and his dad would reconcile one day, it was not meant to be.

Mercifully, thankfully and graciously life goes on.

EDIT DEC 13, 2019

Thank you all so much for the kind and encouraging comments, upvotes and shares. I had no idea when I wrote this how much it really impacted me and how much lighter I feel having shared this with all of you. You restore my faith in humanity. This weekend I ran across a picture of my son from that period and thought I would share it with you. Again, words cannot adequately express my sincere appreciation.

My son has Prader Willi Syndrome. My MIL told me it must be my fault, because there’d never been anything like that in their family. I ignored her. I only do confrontation when it is unavoidable.

However, a friend then told me that she was spreading rumours about me in our small town. She was telling everything that I was an alcoholic (I don’t actually drink except on very special occasions but hey.) She told them that I hadn’t wanted the child and had tried to abort him by getting drunk every night, then throwing myself down the stairs. This would have been difficult, we lived in a ground floor flat.

My husband was scared of her so it was up to me to confront her, and this was something I felt was worth the unpleasantness. She didn’t deny it. She said it was my fault he was “wrong” and that I might as well have tried to abort him. She continued telling lies.

Then my health visitor came and told me she’d made allegations that I was abusing my daughter, who was 2 years older than my son. I went to my GP to find out what she had said. He told me if he had believed her he would have reported me and put the child first. He said he had warned her instead, because he knew it wasn’t true. However, she didn’t give up and I got a visit from Social Services. It took them thirty seconds to realise it was a malicious allegation, and six months to leave us alone and stop visiting. Apparently, if there has been an allegation, they have to visit and keep an eye on a family for a while. I understand it, although it’s annoying and frustrating when it is you.

When my daughter was 6, I went to collect her from school and discovered my MIL had picked her up several hours earlier. It took hours to find her, and when I did she called me an unfit mother and hit me when I put my daughter into my car. That time, my husband did stand up to her and tell her what he thought of her. It was a long time before they reconciled.

Eventually, my marriage ended and I was able to sever all ties to her. Didn’t stop her telling people that I was to blame for my son’s condition, and coming up with outrageous stories.

About a year after my divorce, a paper came out that said the strain of PW my son has is caused by a faulty chromosome passed on by the father. Call me petty, but I photocopied the paper, highlighted the relevant bit and posted it to her.

Made me feel a bit better at the time.

Wow. This is my first actual post. Over 200 upvotes is incredible.

Thank you for all the upvotes and comments. I didn’t think anyone would be that interested in what I had to say!

Over 5k upvotes? Wow. I am amazed and humbled that so many people have read my story. Thank you.

My husband passed away October 22, 2019 at 6:10pm. It was a Tuesday. He was in ICU at a long term care hospital. The thing my MIL did? She denied me the chance to say goodbye or even try to change his mind. The following events are the little she told me when I arrived, after he passed.

Bobby had been on and off intubation (where they put a tube down your throat to breathe for you because you’re unable to on your own) for weeks. His mother was visiting him every day at this point. She’d decided to blame me a couple years before while he was recovering from a quadruple bypass and they discovered the cancer. I was some how responsible for him being so ill (because I magically gave him cancer I guess) and so she turned NASTY towards me. When we were both there with him she was snarky and rude to me, to the point it made him uncomfortable and stressed him. Many times he asked her to not act like that… but she did. So I didn’t want to ruin his visits with her or cause him stress when he was needing to focus on getting better and stronger.. In August I took to just visiting him in the evenings and overnight when I knew she’d be gone, since she didn’t like driving in the dark.

I’d been away from him for a week because I had a respiratory chest cold thing, with a fever - and that’s a huge no-no to come around someone as ill as he was with. Because he was intubated they kept him pretty sedated plus he couldn’t speak on the phone. So, we hadn’t spoken in 8 days. Sunday the fever broke and I went to visit him. As far as I know he wasn’t aware I was there, he was heavily sedated that night. Monday I woke up with a fever back just under 100. I debated going but was scared to put him at risk. Didn’t see him. That Tuesday morning he was back off the vent but (according to her) he’d had enough and told them to put a Do Not Resuscitate on him. His Mother was with him at the time. She said they asked him several times over the course of an hour and he kept true to his request. They then gave him some morphine to relax him and make him comfortable. It still took several more hours after that before he passed away. I got the call at 6:40 pm from the hospital staff when I was about to walk out the door to come see him. She couldn’t even be bothered to tell me herself.

All that time she was there with him and never called to tell me what was going on so I could come and see him one last time or say goodbye.

Keep in mind he and I had been together since high school, December 21st was our 28th anniversary. Yet she acted like I had no right to talk to him or say goodbye. Hell I had to produce our marriage certificate for the staff at the last few hospitals because she would tell them we weren’t really married and SHE should be the one they went to for medical decisions when he was incapacitated.

Oh and here’s where she added one last insult to injury - when his health had started to go downhill rapidly in July and he was in ICU she told him (with me in the room more than once) that he didn’t need to worry, she’d already prepaid for his final details since he asked for a simple cremation and no service or fuss. She chose the funeral home, which I was fine with since she paid. Except when I went there two days after be passed away to go over everything they informed me she’d come in and rescinded her plan so now I was responsible. So dump several thousand dollars of unexpected expense on top of it. (And he’d been sick for years so there was no life insurance money, savings or retirement plan funds left by then). I had to swallow my pride and grovel to family for help but he was taken care of, no thanks to her.

That’s my hubby Bobby there… several years ago, before he got so sick.

*** 5/31/20
Thank you everyone for the kind comments. And for those of you who’ve had similar experiences I want to send every one of you a virtual hug. It’s still a raw subject and I struggle with the guilt some days for not trying to reach out to her like he really wanted. He didn’t want either of us to be alone once he was gone.. but even living alone, with no one around… my life has been better without her negativity. Of that I am positive.

I have banned my MIL from seeing my children, especially now in the middle of this quarantine. Why, you ask?

Simple: while I was still pregnant with my youngest (like two/three weeks before I delivered), her husband tested positive for the flu. My twins were born at 22 weeks and, while they’re thriving, they still have weaker lungs and immune systems. So we asked her NOT to come around me (still pregnant) and them if she had been around him. LITERALLY 24 hours later, she comes in my house, loves on BOTH the twins AND hugs me, then mentions that her FLU-RIDDEN husband is waiting IN HER CAR. We were struggling financially at that point in time, and she had brought “groceries” (read: all stuff that had been sitting in the back of her cabinet for God knows how long and ended up getting thrown away—stale bread, expired cans), so I didn’t say anything. Then, about a week later, we had my stepdaughter for the weekend. They stopped by (unannounced) right after my husband told my stepdaughter he was going to take her outside. But since they showed up, we wanted her to spend some time with them. She, being an impatient 7 y/o on the Spectrum, kept asking to go outside and play. I GENTLY told her to stop asking and to spend time with her grandmother, that she could go outside after they left, then told her if she kept asking, she wasn’t going to get to go outside. She asked again, so I told her no, she couldn’t go outside at all. That’s all that happened.

Fast forward another week to when I gave birth. I had a c-section. Come out of surgery and my BIL is there (I had only wanted my dad and MIL there taking care of the twins while my husband was with me in the OR). My baby girl had some blood sugar issues, so she ended up having to go to the nursery that night and got put on IV sugars. My MIL called my husband the next morning and said her, her husband, AND my other BIL were all coming up there so she could hold my baby (not ASKING if she could, TELLING us she was). We told her no because of the IV (plus I didn’t want all those people there). My baby got her IV pulled the next morning, and we didn’t discharge until later in the day the following day, and she knew all that, so she could have come any time in those last two days and held her with no issues, but she didn’t. The day after we discharged, we took the baby to a doctor’s appointment, then stopped by a friend’s house. Well of course, that friend’s mother held my baby for TWO SECONDS, took a picture, and posted it on FB. Didn’t even realize it had happened until my MIL started pitching a fit about it. Instead of being an adult and talking to ME, she ran to her mother and told her all kinds of lies. Her mother is bi-polar schizophrenic, so I started getting threatening text messages. Then my MIL says she’s going to drive all over our town to find my stepdaughter and give my stepdaughter her Christmas presents, but she’s taking the twins’ and my youngest’s presents back.

The next month she kisses up to my stepdaughter’s mother by giving her all kinds of money, then tell her that I was mistreating my stepdaughter the day they showed up unannounced (even though I was trying to get my stepdaughter to spend time WITH HER). So now we haven’t seen my stepdaughter since Christmas, despite a court order, and I just had to threaten to call the cops on my MIL because she was driving up and down my road rubbing it in mine and my husband’s faces that she had my stepdaughter. All because I won’t let her run my life

UPDATE:

Thank y’all so much for all the upvotes! Apparently now she’s running her mouth about my husband to my stepdaughter’s mother too. Telling lies about him to the girl who cheated on him and brought him so much pain.

UPDATE 2:

Again, thank y’all so much for all the upvotes! My husband graduated yesterday, and she found out and showed up AFTER he told her not to. Then she lied and said he invited her, which almost broke us up. So yea, she’s still at it unfortunately 😢

In this case it was my mother rather than my wife’s, so just pretend I’m answering for her.

My wife and I decided to start having kids in late 2011. Our first sons birth was traumatic for us both because the hospital staff showed utter disregard for my wife's phobia of needles. Whisking her off for an emergency c section where I was not allowed to follow, a room full of gowned surgeons and nurses bullied her into an epidural rather than general anesthetic as had previously been agreed.

Once we got home from the hospital, my wife slipped into post natal depression and was swallowed up by the guilt she felt for not loving our son like she thought a good mother should. I did my best to support her through it, but the trouble we had was not helped by my mother, who, due to some odd sense of grandmotherly entitlement, disregarded our requests for how the three of us be treated during this tough time in favour of her own wants to be close to her first grandson.

The pressure we felt to give my mother what she wanted was immense, and constant the constant belittling of my wife, particularly in front of other family members, pushed her deeper down the dark hole of depression. The relationship deteriorated further and further until one day, when our boy (Hamish) was about 2 years old, she pushed my wife (Rebecca's) buttons one time too many, and a screaming match ensued, where my mother failed to see any problem with her actions and continued to blame Rebecca for the downhill slide our relationship had embarked upon.

That was in early 2014. We refused to speak to her from that incident, and shortly after started receiving emails from her in which she demanded to see her grandson, including listing times she was available. We of course refused, insisting we address the relationship issues first. The email demands continued, without deviating from the pattern of requesting to see her grandson, ignoring our requests to work on our relationship issues, and listing times she was available to see him. Even so far as suggesting we leave Hamish with her for a while if we did not want to see her.

The format struck us as odd, and we lay awake one evening pondering the strange format of these emails, wondering why it did not sound like her usual language. It struck us like a bolt of lightning, and we quickly looked up the relevant law in our state. Our worst fears were confirmed. There, in cold, calculated legalese, was the line indicating that in our state, grandparents were included in the list of a child's immediate family or caregivers who were legally entitled to access to a child. My aunt is a family lawyer, so we immediately realised that my mother had been coached to write these emails. She was establishing a precedent of reasonable attempts to make arrangements to see Hamish, in an effort to demonstrate that we had unreasonably refused access. We did not sleep that night, and I can honestly say the realisation of what was happening was the worst emotional pain I have ever felt.

Rebecca and I agonised over what we were going to do. We researched the law and consulted every relevant government authority, support service, and our own family lawyer for advice or any hint of a way out. If we sat by and did nothing, we knew that soon we would be forced to sit down in a room with my mother and negotiate access arrangements. Sure enough, we soon received a letter from Relationships Australia notifying us that we were obligated to attend a mediation session with my mother, and refusal would be grounds for the matter to be heard in court.

By this time, Rebecca was refusing to leave the house, for fear of bumping into my mother or other family on the street. My mother had of course been in the ear of every other member of my family telling her warped side of the story, and my brother, sister, uncles, aunts and cousins all formed the opinion that Rebecca and I were unreasonable people holding our son to ransom. We had little choice but to cut contact with my entire family, lest our thoughts and actions tip off my mother and give her a strategic advantage in what had become a legal battle for visitation rights to our child.

We had already discussed the possibility of running. We would move interstate where the state law my mother's case rested on did not apply. Receiving the mediation letter confirmed what were were already fairly sure was the case - that we were going to be dragged through the courts, possibly required to leave Hamish in my mothers care for regular visits, potentially have to ask the courts permission to move house, and any number of other restrictions.

We began making the arrangements. At the time we lived in Brisbane on the East coast of Australia. We had lived in Sydney before and knew we didn't want to go there. The fast paced and crowded nature of the city did not agree with us, so we settled on Perth, Western Australia. It seemed perfect, a major city with a country town feel, and best of all it was 4500 kilometres away from my family, making us only accessible by a 5 hour flight. I began seeking work, and after hundreds of rejected applications, finally secured a job with a company willing to hire me sight unseen and with only the promise that I would be living in the same city within a few weeks.

We kept our plans secret, revealing them only to Rebecca's immediate family, who were of course devastated at the news that we would be moving so far away. Some were accepting, but most, lacking our perspective, were selfishly unsupportive of our decision, and some tried to convince us that we were making a mountain out of a molehill and should cancel our plans and face the problem head on. The secrecy was necessary due to the possibility that, should my mother get wind of it, she could lodge papers to prevent us from leaving the state, pending a court date. If we moved before that happened, it would be much harder to justify dragging us back.

The big day came in September 2014. Everything we owned was stuffed into a 20 foot shipping container and trucked away to be loaded onto a train which would take at least a week to cross the desert before unloading in Perth.

The transit time of our belongings actually worked in our favour. We hopped on a plane, after tearful goodbyes with Rebecca's family at the gate, and hopped off again in Perth, having committed to relocating to a city we had never even visited. We took a taxi to a freight terminal nearby to collect our family car, which had been sent over by train ahead of our departure to ensure it was waiting for us when we arrived. The taxi driver took advantage of the fact that we unwisely mentioned we had never been to Perth before by turning what we later learned should have been a 10 minute drive into a half hour trip, but being scammed by an unscrupulous taxi driver seemed like a minor annoyance next to the scale of the problems that had gotten us to this point.

We collected our car and drove to the holiday home we had rented for the week while we found a longer term rental. On our first night we took a short trip to the beach to see the sunset over the ocean - a sight we had never seen living on the east coast our entire lives, and celebrated our escape and our new life which lay ahead.

UPDATE 10-July-2018:

Comments have been overwhelmingly supportive of our decision to move, and it’s nice that those on the outside looking in can see that we made the right choice. It’s a shame that Rebecca’s family don’t feel the same way. I suppose it’s hard for them to put their own wants aside in favor of what is best for us.

Lots of people have asked what happened after we moved. For a while I received the occasional letter from my sister, which I read each time and wished I hadn’t. It was not nice to have the old wounds re-opened when she asked why we had left and filled us in on the things my mother had been saying we did - I don’t recall anything in particular, as I’ve shut that out of my mind and done my best to forget.

About a year after the move my sister showed up unannounced and uninvited on our doorstep, which rattled us badly for a while. She was in Perth to attend the wedding of one of my cousins. We knew this meant my mother knew were we lived, and fully expected repercussions to follow, though they never did.

I was asleep at the time as I had been working late the night before, and Rebecca, stunned by my sister’s unexpected appearance, defaulted to hospitality mode and invited her in for tea. Rebecca woke me with the words ‘your sister is here’. I thought I was having a nightmare at the time until she woke me enough to realise this was unfortunately the real world. I came out and the three of us sat at the kitchen table and made awkward small talk for a few minutes, never discussing why we had left or mentioning my mother at all. My sister noted Rebeccas pregnant belly, congratulating us. No doubt she would report this back to my mother, and I hoped the knowledge that she had another grandchild she’d probably never meet would be a good kick in the guts for her. We ushered my sister out, citing ‘a busy day’ as the reason, and never had another letter or any contact after that from any of my family at all, except for a short message from my sister letting me know that our grandfather had died. I didn’t attend the funeral - I had no significant relationship with my grandfather and his passing did not even cause me to shed a tear, so it was certainly not worth travelling to the funeral and facing my entire family at once.

So that does it for updates relating to “the issue”. Stop here if you aren’t one of the people who asked what our new life is like.

Shortly after arriving in Perth, I started my new job programming lighting control systems for office buildings, hospitals, museums, stadiums, etc and did not even begin my first day of training before I was “borrowed” by another tech who had started a new (currently one person) department. He was working on “architainment” rather than the traditional functional lighting that had been the company’s bread and butter for over 20 years.

Today I am the manager of that department and I work with two other techs. We are responsible for a good number of the major lighting landmarks in Perth including the new Matagarup bridge, Yagan Square, the ‘Sky Ribbon’ artwork on the major traffic interchange to the Perth Airport and many more. We now generate a significant portion of the company’s revenue and are exploring new technologies every day and finding new ways to bring interactivity, colour and light to the city.

I used to play bass in a band in Brisbane and having to leave the band was one of the biggest blows to me personally when we left. We were called ‘ARC’ and never released an album, but played live a lot and made exactly one music video. You can see it on YouTube by searching ARC - Fall Into The Sun. I briefly joined another band in Perth but left soon after discovering a new passion - FPV racing drones. My limited spare time is summed up by the mantra ‘build, fly, crash, repeat’.

Rebecca has been studying since Hamish was born (well before we moved to Perth) to become a primary school teacher, and finished her degree about 14 months ago. She found that the job market for teachers is incredibly cutthroat here, and apart from a trickle of casual relief positions at short notice, has been unable to find substantial work. To make matters worse, she has an autoimmune disorder which has begun attacking her joints. Now she couldn’t work even if it was offered to her, and some days cannot even walk. Her fingers are also affected, making basic daily tasks a challenge. She is being treated, but we are told its going to take a while before things improve. It’s been three or four months now with no improvement.

Hamish has, in the last few months, been formally diagnosed with level 2 autism, which means he is entitled to some government assistance and a small disability pension. This has eased the financial pressure on us a little, fortunately. The government now covers the cost of his therapy sessions, which he will be attending weekly. He’s in first grade at school and has an educational assistant to himself a couple of times a week. We struggle to manage him at home, but we are learning all the time ways to cope with his disability and work around his limitations.

Oscar was born on Rebeccas birthday (would you believe it!) and is now two and a half years old. He is always bright eyed and bushy tailed, and raised alongside Hamish, Rebecca and I wonder how we couldn’t see Hamish’s problems all along. We guess that it’s because with Hamish being our first child, we didn’t really know what to expect and what behaviour is normal.

Oscar and Hamish love each other a lot, but Oscar, being so young, doesn’t understand Hamish’s special needs, and as a result the two are often fighting over trivial things. Rebecca has little choice but to play referee all day, wheeling herself around the house on an office chair on the days she cannot walk. We can’t afford for me to take time off work, so she has a pretty rough time managing the kids at home while I am working.

I hope that covers it pretty well for anyone still wondering!

Oh!!! I’ve been waiting to tell this story!!!

I was 21 years old and getting married so naturally my friends threw a wedding shower for me and invited my future mother-in-law (hereafter referred to as MIL). A lovely party and I was showered with gifts as happens at a shower. You are going to think I’m lying or exaggerating but, I promise you, this is a true story.

I picked up a beautifully wrapped gift and was excited to see it’s from MIL. My husband’s family are fairly wealthy so I was sure it was going to be something awesome. I gently remove the wrapping paper and ribbons — she clearly paid to have it wrapped and I wanted to save the expensive paper and bows.

I opened the box, pulled back the tissue paper and there it was. The most heinous green dress I’ve ever seen. It was the type of dress your grandmother may have worn to a special occasion (if she was blind). I am talking about vomit green with a lace overlay and a satin lining complete with armpit stains. Kind of like this but a thousand times worse.

Shorter, sleeveless and did i mention the pit stains? I wish I had a picture of it. I truly can’t do it justice in words and apparently neither can Google Image Search. But this colour is close.

I remember feeling all the blood run out of my face when I saw what it was. Everyone in the room went silent with looks of shock on their faces. And then MIL started to laugh. She said that it was tradition at showers to give a heinous gift and that she had spent all afternoon at the Salvation Army looking for the worst thing she could find.

I was the first of my friends to marry. I hadn’t been to any other showers so I was not well versed in shower traditions. I put on a brave face and forced out a few laughs. But I remember thinking at the time that this was how Stephen King’s Carrie felt when she realized she was the butt of the joke after being doused in pig's blood.

I’ve been married 35 years now and MIL has been gone for the last 10 of them. In those years, I have been to many showers and have never seen anyone else do such a thing; I’ve never heard of such a tradition and neither has anyone I’ve ever asked. Please share in the comments if you have ….

Side notes.

1. When her own daughters were getting married, she gave them lovely shower gifts - no gag gifts.
2. In the following years, the only other time she gave me a gift was the Xmas before she passed away. It was a scarf — the kind they give as a free gift when you sign up for a new credit card or something. (I consider myself lucky she never gave me a birthday gift.)

Edit: thanks everyone for all the upvotes! Makes me feel validated with how I felt on that day!

I can’t tell you just one, but here are some of them.

1. I was in hospital after my C section when she came to visit me. I asked my husband to help me sit up. I was in a lot of pain. She tells my husband, “ You have done so much of work. You sit”. Then she proceeds to grab my hand and literally jerked me upright. The pain was incredible!!!
2. She used to create problems with me and my husband by telling him that I am being mean to her. After a lot of fights she realized that I would never keep quiet and would fight back with her. She stopped that.
3. When we go visit her if I want to go somewhere she will always say no even if it is somewhere she wants to go. Just out of sheer spite and stupidity.
4. She gave me chilly paste to eat saying it was chutney. After I gagged and choked she says it is mostly for marinade!!!
5. When my Dad died she created such problems for me. Instead of mourning my Father I was crying because she was troubling me so much. She makes every occasion about her.
6. When Trump ( she is Indian and lives in Indian btw ) got elected she was thrilled and called me and bullied me the next day. Apparently since Trump is a bully ( according to her ) she can bully all she wants. I bullied her right back!! By this time it was 10 years since I was married to her son. I knew what to do!!
7. She hates that her son loves me after 14 years together and when we go to visit each time he sits next to me she starts fighting with me. Go figure. I should be drinking hard alcohol each time we visit her.
8. She hates that I cook well and that my son and husband do not eat anything she cooks. She keeps telling them that I cook unhealthy food. According to her vegetables are very unhealthy. Trust me I am not lying. This woman is a real sample!!!
9. I almost wanted to end my life after my delivery as she was making my life hell. With my husband’s help and my doctor I knew I had to stay strong for my baby.

But in all this I have learnt to fight back and become strong. Today she gets scared of me and thinks twice before she talks to me.

I am writing this because it’s been 5 years and I still haven’t gotten over this. So here goes..

The meanest thing my MIL did to me was make sure I ate only plain rice during a huge part of my pregnancy. Yes, just plain boiled rice for lunch and dinner in the first 2 trimesters of my pregnancy.

I had a high-risk pregnancy and was advised complete bed-rest. I was only allowed to move to go to the washroom and visit the doctor. Otherwise, I was a beached whale throughout my pregnancy.

My husband wasn’t comfortable me being alone in the house while he was at work, so he asked his mom to move in for a few months. And those months were hell. The only respite I had was when my parents were able to visit from time to time, especially in the last trimester.

So everything was hunky dory in front of my husband, but the moment he left, my MIL would be a completely different person. She wouldn’t come out of her room, and would be on her phone. She wouldn’t talk to me. She did everything she was NOT supposed to do while “taking care” of me.

I think she agreed to move in to show it the world that she is such a nice lady that she’s moved in to help poor me!

Now she is regarded as an excellent cook by the entire family, but she NEVER cooked once for me. She didn’t even offer any help the cook I had employed at that time. And me with my unusually heightened sense of smell wouldn’t be able to handle anything the cook made.

The first few times when I had to eat plain rice for lunch and dinner, she gave the excuse that she wasn’t aware of what made me sick and what didn’t, because apparently in her days, morning sickness wasn’t much of an issue. Because of my unfortunate “delicate” pregnancy, my morning sickness is more visible, and she doesn’t know how to handle it. She usually cried on her son’s shoulder while blubbering this excuse, while I was the one eating plain rice and puking out my guts every day.

By Month 4, my husband finally woke up from her spell, and let her go back to her own home. My parents were back, and I finally managed to eat right. I had multiple hospital stays due to this bad diet, and that’s a nightmare I’ll never forget.

And then unfortunately, by Month 6, my parents had to leave again and MIL was back. And back to her old tricks. And I was back on the plain rice therapy.

I never want to feel so helpless like the way I felt during those times. I couldn’t fend for myself, and my husband couldn’t see how nasty my MIL was (still is). I had cravings and I couldn’t do anything about it because I didn’t want the stress of seeing her make a show out of it.

Now I’m just glad it’s all over.

And the funniest part is now my daughter (almost 5 years old) loves to eat plain rice only. She doesn’t like to eat anything else! It makes me laugh, it makes me cry, and it’s just plain wrong for her to strive on plain rice only. But hey, she’s been on that diet when she was cocooned inside me, so can’t really fault her on that. Right?

My (soon to be) MIL is lovely, but my mother’s MIL was a HORRIBLE woman.

A little background: My dad’s father left when he was an infant. His mom (the MIL) remarried and had another son. My dad was verbally abused and given nothing he didn’t earn himself, while his brother was given everything (a car, a business, etc). She never told my dad why she treated him differently or that his “dad” was not his biological father. He this found out in his 40s.

At my parents wedding she told guests the marriage wouldn’t last. At my mom's baby shower (four years later) she told my mom not to expect her to baby sit, even though they lived less than 3 miles away. Despite all that, my mom always invited her to major holidays and big family events because it was the right thing to do. They rarely came and if they did they always caused a scene or were an embarrassment (e.g., she wore jeans and a T-shirt about drinking beer to my high school graduation).

Over time the pattern became kind of a family joke. We saw MIL once or maybe twice a year. We would celebrate Christmas with them (MIL and her husband) sometime in March or at Easter—a time of their choosing, not ours. My mom would cook a huge meal. MIL would ask what they could bring, but never brought it, so my mom would make sure to have a back up. MIL would bring her own Tupperware to collect leftovers and as soon as those had been stowed she would start in on my dad. MIL needs a new roof and he needs to put it on right away (my dad was not a roofer), etc etc. There was always some bone to be picked after dinner and it would start as soon as the last lid had been snapped onto the Tupperware.

Little attention was paid to us (her grandkids). MIL would regift old antique dolls to us from their store, but we were immediately told not to play with them because they were antiques and should not be taken out of the box. Who gives a kid a toy they can’t play with?

My mom was a saint through it all. We would just laugh it off and say, “well, that is Tie for you.”

The MEANEST THING: Fast forward 36 years. After losing his job and being out of work for several years, my dad cheated on my mom. Her MIL calls my mom to tell her how happy he seems with his new girlfriend. MIL happily reports that she has never seen him smile this much in her life and that he is getting to enjoy all the things he never got to do when he was with her (I.e., go dancing). WTF! Who does that?

A month later when the mistress figures out that my dad had no money and the big house is being paid for by my mom, she dumps him. MIL calls my mom to ask her to take him back, so that she doesn’t have to take him in. She tells my mom that she is probably too old to find another husband anyways. My mom just politely says no, and hangs up. It was a devastating situation that her MIL made 1000 times worse.

Not letting her son grow up.

We got married in a regular arranged marriage setting. So you would think if the daughter-in-law was of someone’s own picking instead of her son’s, she would be extra sweet, nice, and caring. You’re wrong.

My first day in my marital home, it was 2 days after the wedding and we had to leave for our honeymoon. Just before we had to leave, she started acting extremely sick. She had weakness, almost fainted, moaning in pain. She insist her son take her to the doctor. I got very scared, because who wouldn’t? But my sister-in-law’s husband was sitting in a corner smiling at it all. Eventually he said he’ll take her to the doctor and then take her to his home till we come back so that she can be cared for. In 5 minutes, my MIL was completely fine. Luckily, we took off.

For the first few months of our marriage, every waking minute at home she would insist on long conversations about random things with her son till her was too sleepy or too late for work to spend any alone time with me. When the whole family goes out, she has to sit in the front as my husband drives. I’m never allowed to sit by his side, even while dining. If I’m cooking something my husband loves, she takes over because only she knows how he likes it. Doesn’t tell me how, just takes over. And repeatedly mentions it to everyone that she cooked it because I didn’t know how. When my husband comes back from work, she serves a warm cozy glass of milk because he’s very tired. Never offers it to me or lets me make it for him. Once my husband made hot almond milk for me at night. The next day my MIL scolded me for making my poor tired husband work in the kitchen. Reacts similarly if he puts out his own wet towel or folds my laundry. Those are all my tasks. Once we were out and we bought a shirt for him. My MIL cried when she saw it because shopping for him is her ‘right’. She took the shirt back & exchanged it. Every time we plan to go on a date, she would suddenly get sick. Or insist that she come along with us. Before every family event, she takes the newest or priciest clothes from my wardrobe that my husband has gifted me, while I’m not at home, and either wears it herself or gives it to her daughter. We can’t go on a trip alone because she insists her daughter and her husband accompany us. Luckily, my sister-in-law is understanding enough to respect our privacy when we go out with them. [There are many other weird things she does, but I’ll focus on her attitude towards my husband for this answer]

Luckily, my husband was moved to Dubai by his employer and my company agreed to move me too. We were alone. This man hadn’t picked up his dirty underwear or reheated food all his life. I tried to explain it to him that we both should share household chores. And slowly but surely, he started changing over the next few weeks. Within 2 months, he turned into a fully functional adult. I would wash clothes, he would fold them. We cleaned the house on alternate days. Anyone who reached home first would cook dinner. And honestly, it was amazing for us as a couple. We started appreciating each other so much for the efforts, had more opportunities to bond, more time for dates, and more energy for sex!

But 6 months later, my MIL came to live with us. She has been here for 2 weeks, and yesterday I again picked up my husband’s dirty underwear from the bathroom floor.

I don’t blame my husband. Who wouldn’t give in to being pampered like that? He never really left his parents. The problem is, I did. So I had no choice but to grow up and be an adult.

And how to I even tackle this? These are all non-issues when seen separately. I would feel petty even saying them out loud. But together, it hinders our marital life and my husband’s overall growth.

My only question is, why do mothers marry their sons if they aren’t ready to let them go? Why do they have to compete with their wives, low-key acting like their son is ‘their man’? I understand change needs time and I’m giving it to her. But I was never given that time. I left my parents & was expected to grow up overnight, and they can’t even call me ‘too much’ without seeming interfering. But my MIL can come on dates with us & ask me if I’m using contraception or not?

MIL had always loved his former girlfriend. She’d wished they had still been together. MIL would be fake nice around me, sliding in little comment jabs to get at me. Picture it: Thanksgiving. She invited us to her place for dinner; about a 40 min drive away. So I’m in their back split house, downstairs family room with our daughter. They’re in the kitchen. I can hear and see them easily. Then I notice my guy and his Mom and Dad having a heated discussion. He comes downstairs and tells me that his mother has invited his ex girlfriend to Thanksgiving dinner with us. (We’d been together for 4 years by this point.) I was SO upset & angry but couldn’t show it. I thought his ex wouldn’t really come either, but she did! That dinner I sat through was one of the most uncomfortable times I’ve ever experienced. I couldn’t even eat and all I wanted desperately was to go home. His Mom just went on like it was all just so wonderful. I, never ever forgot it and refused to go to her home for dinner ever again. (Even his Dad was mad at his Mom.
(We broke up a year later.)

Last May i had a heart attack and almost died. I beat the widowmaker. My self centered piece of $%!t mother in law never called me to check on me. She never asked her daughter (My wife) how I was doing she never mentioned it to any othe family members or anything. I've been very accommodating and helped her throughout the years when she needed it. When she had breast cancer I was there for her. When she couldn't afford her meds I picked up the tab, When insurance didn't cover certain tests I picked up the tab and this is how she treats me? Payback is a bitch This Feb. she needed to get a hip replacement she wanted my wife and I to take off of work and fly up to New York to help her. My wife had no vacation time so she couldn't go and i refused. She had her operation I never called her once to check on her nor will I ever do anything for her again. Call me a baby or a jerk if you want but she really hurt my feelings and she really showed me what she thinks of me.

She did not let her son marry me.

So technically she never became my mother-in-law.. Bt i thought her to b one for six years.. Yes v were in a relationship for six years and 5 months..

His father was my father’s friend.. So we grew up together.. She loved me.. Or i thought so.. Bt she had no reason to hate me as i was the only child of my dad who owned quite a lot of property in land, gold and 2 houses.. We were of the same caste..She was cool about our relationship when she got to know.. Until one fine day..

When our families met for a normal dinner at my home.. She saw a pack of oral contraceptive pills on my bedside table.. On asking my mother told her that I was undergoing treatment for PCOD.. At that time my mother did not know that I was in a relationship with her son..

From that day onwards I noticed her developing a hatred towards me.. She started taunting me.. She stopped her son from meeting me. I was growing anxious about her behaviour. So we decided to tell his father and my family and finally get married. But she told his father that if their son marries me He will see her DEAD.

We were shocked. The next day I was talking to her son about this turn of events on the phone when she came to him. The conversation went like-

He- “Mom,why did u do all this?”

she- “Its for ur good beta, she can never give a heir to our family”

He- “what??”

She- “Yes, remember that day i asked u about her treatment and You said that she has PCOD since she was in tenth.. And that she has undergone a lot of treatment and changed many doctors but is unable to get her menstruation without medication.. And that now she has been told that her PCOD is severe enough.. I contacted a gynac friend she says in such cases it is very difficult to conceive.. Even if u conceive it's even more difficult to not have a miscarriage. We don't want such a bride for our son...”

The call got disconnected that day.. After a lot of drama he succumbed to the demands of his mother and decided to shift abroad.. So yes my “almost” mother-in-law never became my mother-in-law..

That's her meanest deed.

P.s- if u think she was some illiterate woman.. No, she is the Manager at the local branch of a leading bank.

Edit----

Thank u for such an overwhelming support. Yes, a man needs to have a spine to protect what he loves.. Its been an year I have moved on.I told my parents to start looking for a suitable groom. He has got married and i heard from a Neighbour yesterday that his wife is expecting.. I just wish him and his child all the happiness in the world.

l already shifted to homeopathy treatment after almost 3 years of allopathy.. I hope it works..

To those saying that what his mother did “was not wrong” and she did what was best for her family.. If u mean to say that i don't deserve a family. My friend there are things like Test tube Baby and surrogacy.. Even if I turn out to b infertile I can always adopt a child..

I need not be demotivated by people like u..

Thank you

Not to me but my children. My husband had recently passed away (he was an abusive drug addict, so not really upsetting for me but my kids were young & didn’t understand the whole situation), we went to visit her. She had presents for my 3 kids ages 11, 7, and 6. My oldest & youngest look like me but my middle child was the spitting image of my husband. She gave my oldest & youngest crappy gifts (clothing that didn’t fit & candy from the last Halloween, it was summer). But my middle child got 3 bags of appropriate clothing, a bag of toys, & a Nintendo game. My middle child kinda took after my husband in that he was a little selfish but when we left the house even he could see how messed up that was & offered to share his stuff with his siblings. That was the final straw & being that I’m a widow & not divorced there was no reason to have them in our lives anymore. One of the best decisions I’ve ever made!

She wanted my husband to take her to Colorado to see her brother. I am very tall. She was not. She sat in the front seat for the entire 8 hours which says more about her son than about her but I digress.

At one point, she turned around and looked at me and said “You must have married ____(her son) for his money. You didn’t have much growing up, did you?” I was utterly shocked. First of all, she didn’t really know me and had never really tried. I grew up in much nicer homes than anyone in his family. Plus, I was contributing almost half the income to our household. In spite of everything, she always treated me like I was a “kept woman.”

The final blow was when I painted my son’s nursery and made it so cute. She couldn’t find a way to compliment me. She said “my kids never had a nursery. It must be nice to have a husband who can afford a house like yours.”

I left him (her) 10 years ago. The house I bought for myself is beautiful and there’s nobody to begrudge me of it.

My former MIL is one of the smartest women I know. I married her oldest son (she had five sons) at a young age and learned a lot from her. The tides turned when I realized how controlling she was and how perverse her relationship was with my husband - he put her before me. All of my sister in laws would joke about who was in the lead for daughter in law of the year. One year, my husband was going to graduate school and living with them while I took care of the kids, house, etc… about 4 hours away. My youngest son’s birthday was on Easter and as usual, we were spending the holiday with HIS family (we spend most holidays with HIS parents, I know, I had no backbone). MIL wanted to have a party for my son and I must have said something noncommittal which got back to her. I show up at their home at 9:30pm on Good Friday, not having eaten dinner to be met at the door by my FIL who said MIL was sick and we couldn’t stay there. Husband was out of town on a school trip, due to return the next day. Stunned and concerned, I drove another hour to a BIL’s house and tried to figure out what was going on. Turns out, MIL was fine, just mad because I didn’t embrace her idea for a grandiose birthday party (she is very pretentious). My husband blamed me for this change of plans but the sister in laws and I figured out Easter and had a great weekend. Weird, weird, weird. Fast forward a few years and MIL blamed me for the failing of my marriage, stating I was the one having an affair. First and only panic attack on my part. Karma finally kicked in and I’m in a very happy second marriage. MIL is in a nursing home, her husband died in a Veteran’s home of Alzheimer's (she treated me horribly for years because HE had had an affair), ex husband is on his third marriage, and her perfect family is fractured over sexual abuse within the family. God has been so good to me - I returned to college, started a dream career at age 40, returned to college 2x times for an advanced degree and certifications, work for people who believe in me and have such a supportive forever husband.

My mother-in-law invited dead people to our wedding! She absolutely refused to allow the dead to be removed from the invitation list for fear of offending both the dead and their surviving relatives.

In the midst of the wedding planning she set my, now husband, up on a blind date…with a “nice girl” meaning a female companion who was without opinion or voice.

Then there was the Great Borscht War of 1994! No way, no how was I going to serve soup, forget a beet soup, at our wedding reception! Me, a white dress and a red soup would have been a disaster. She told me I was horrible and selfish. My mother-in-law is not Eastern European.

We eloped!

I've learned to laugh…a lot…and bite my tongue.

Once, however, she was so blatantly cruel that almost 22 years later the wound still hasn't healed. I was pregnant with our first child, I asked her for a more in depth family medical history than my poor clueless husband could provide. Her response was to look at me and say, “No, that's private, only for family. You will never be family because you are adopted.” I was adopted at 3 months, long before I met her son. I have never known any other parents. My parents had 3 biological children before I showed up on the scene. Until that day, at the ripe old age of 29, I had never met anyone who thought that those of us who are adopted are lesser beings. To quote my mother-in-law, “Adopted children should be humble. You are too uppity for an adopted person”

*In the 26 years that my husband and I have been a couple she has never called me by name.

My partner of 10 years was drinking a lot and I had taken our daughter and moved out for a while. His mother didnt like me so when she would visit her son, I would avoid his house. We lived a few hours from her so she would often stay a few days at a time when she came.

The last time she came down it was to pick up our daughter as it was the school holidays and our daughter would usually stay around 5 days with her.

She left the same day she came this time so I went around to my partners house later, but he wasnt there. I figured he had gone to his mums with our daughter and Id see them both at the end of the week.

3 days later a friend of his that I had not really known at all came to my house to tell me he had passed away.

MIL had taken my partner to hospital which is why he wasnt home. She did not tell me this. She did not tell me that he had gone into a coma. She did not allow me to say goodbye.

She did not give me the opportunity to be there for my daughter when she was told her dad was dying.

I was the last person to find out he’d gone and when I rang to speak with my daughter I was told she would call back. (she finally called that night and he had passed at 5 am that morning)

I also found out my daughter was made to ring her dads friends to tell them he had died. She was only 9 years old!! This made me sick to my stomach.

At the funeral, I was denied the option to view him although others were doing so.

When his life story was being told, neither me nor his step children (my older kids who considered him their dad) were mentioned. When they spoke about our daughter, they said ‘during her gestation…’ as if she was a test tube baby.

MIL did a whole lot more over the following months that was spiteful and hurtful, because I know she blames me for his death. She doesnt understand I would have given my life for his if I had the chance. Its been 7 months and 5 days and I still mourn him every day. If it wasnt for my children I would have given up by now.

The only way forward is to show her compassion, no matter how much she hurts me because she is hurting too.

EDIT: Sometimes things have a way of working themselves out. I have left it up to my daughter as to if and when she sees her grandmother and since her dad has passed she has only seen MIL at christmas and for her birthday. She doesnt want to talk to her on the phone and even though MIL has requested (repeatedly) to have her every other weekend my daughter has little interest so I deny this request. I have no guilt to carry because I have not retaliated. The woman is caught up in her own vortex of negativity, hate and blame and I have no doubt that this will inhibit her ability to heal. This is why I pity her and dont hate her. Thank you so much for the responses and upvotes. Take care.

1. Never fails to degrade me or my family members whenever she gets a chance
2. I don't like to wear modern dresses. I stick to salwar kameez most of the times. When I started wearing leggings she asked me not to wear since my thighs are visible. (her daughter wears jeans top, skirts knee length as well as leggings skin color, no comments on that part)
3. Once I was told to adjust my Saree since my entire sides were visible. She was sitting in audience and I was in the dias for my brother's wedding. She asked my aunt to come to stage, tell me that my entire body is visible and adjust myself. I was about to breakdown but do not want to spoil my brothers day.
4. On the day of pooja once asked me if I really studied masters and that I'm lacking commonsense not knowing to light the matchstick properly. My hands sweat a lot and matchstick got wet so I have to try thrice before she plucked it from my hands to light.
5. I was attending interviews after marriage but was not successful in securing job. And she was the happiest person to bring me down whenever she got chance. She told me few people don't know to answer properly in interview and secure a job.
6. When I was pregnant with my kid she asked me to come to her home (we live away and she will stay with us most of the times) and I dusted every shelf in the house. I was sneezing and exhausted. Still I was given continuous works.

I am married for 3 years. She is a well educated woman and was working before her health took a toll on her. My husband was quiet for two years and started to realise just now or at least I think he is. God only knows the truth. She talks now and then about something but I started to ignore. Nowadays I have the guts to raise my voice against her and anyone who questions my way of doing things.

So girls raise your voice when it crosses the limit otherwise you will suffer silently till the end.

So many memories with my MIL. The first time I met her, she waited for her son not to be around and told me she didn’t want this marriage because she expected to be supported financially by her son. Then we have had a lot of issues over the years, mostly because in her mind the eldest son (my husband) had to live for her. When my MIL’s mother passed away, she yelled at me in front of everybody that I let her mother die and I wasn’t able to have a kid (I was having fertility struggles at the time).

The final break up with her was when she went uninvited to my husband’s military promotion (why he chose not to invite her is unknown to me until this day) yet she arrived, smiled at me, said hello sweetie, and literally trashed me with everybody who was there. She almost caused a divorce.

In a twist of fate, now she has Alzheimer and every time she sees me she is so loving towards me. Apparently, she doesn’t remember that she had hated me since we met for no reason at all. I have never been disrespectful to her. Now I feel sorry she got ill.