My mother-in-law hated me from the start. The first time we met, she showed me photos of my husband’s ex and said, “Just giving you some inspiration.” That set the tone.
Every visit felt like a test. If I helped in the kitchen, she criticized me. If I didn’t, she mocked me. After we got engaged, she told my husband I was “a mistake” and even tried to convince his ex to stay in touch. Brian defended me, but it wore on both of us.
The wedding was beautiful—but she wore black, joking it was for “mourning the loss of her son.” Afterward, she started showing up unannounced, making cutting remarks. I tried to please her, but nothing worked.
Eventually, I realized this wasn’t about me—it was about control. I stopped trying to earn her approval and set firm boundaries, with Brian’s support. At first, she resisted, but over time, something shifted.
A year later, her health declined. I began caring for her—driving her to appointments, cooking meals, and spending time with her. One day she said, “You’ve been more of a daughter to me than I ever deserved.”
When she passed away two years later, Brian and I held her hands. The woman who once made me feel small had become a friend.
Lesson learned: people often act out of fear, not hate. Boundaries matter, but so does patience. Respect yourself, and others can rise to meet you.