From the moment I married Jake, his mom, Sharon, made it clear I wasn’t the daughter-in-law she wanted. Her “well-meaning” digs about my looks, makeup, and hair were constant. I tolerated it for Jake’s sake, hoping things would improve, but they didn’t.
When I got pregnant, Sharon suddenly got overly involved—buying baby clothes, texting weekly, and inviting us to a “small gender reveal dinner” that turned out to be a huge gathering of over 25 people. I was seven months pregnant, overwhelmed, but smiled through it. Sharon’s comments felt more like a performance than genuine care.
During the toast, Sharon made a cruel joke about my nose in front of everyone. Jake, furious, stood up, defended me with a heartfelt toast, and then we left. The room fell silent, and no one tried to stop us.
In the car, Jake apologized and reassured me that from now on, it was about us—our family. Since then, Sharon has tried reaching out, but Jake hasn’t spoken to her. She won’t be in the delivery room.
As we prepare for our baby, Jake remains firm in protecting me and our daughter from Sharon’s toxicity. While it’s painful that my daughter may not have a relationship with her grandmother, it’s more painful to imagine her being judged like I was.