The rifts in my relationship with my mother-in-law began when I was pregnant with my first child. Prior to that, I had put in a tremendous effort to earn her affection, hoping to be cherished just as much as her other daughters-in-law. However, I soon realized I was fighting a losing battle; they all lived nearby, and we didn’t — a circumstance largely influenced by her. Nevertheless, I pressed on. I sent holiday cards, ensuring my signature was included if my husband sent them. I participated in the never-ending family group chat and followed her specific instructions for loading the dishwasher, despite her constant rearrangements and overly cheerful remarks.
But everything changed during my pregnancy. I had to stay at her house for several days without my husband, grappling with severe prenatal depression that left me crying for hours and unable to function normally. In the midst of my struggles, her lack of empathy was glaring. Yes, my father-in-law kindly took me on a tour of their town and treated me to a lovely dinner, yet when I found myself sobbing on the back steps, reaching out for my husband, they completely ignored my distress. When I discovered my first stretch mark and raced upstairs in tears, my mother-in-law coldly told me to “get over it.”
At that moment, something shifted within me. I was finished trying to be the perfect daughter-in-law. While I maintained basic politeness, I stopped going out of my way to gain her approval. If she wanted to take her grandkids to the museum, I made it clear that a stop at Starbucks was essential — and sometimes I opted to stay home and read instead. Dining at her favorite restaurant was no longer mandatory; I insisted on better options that suited my tastes.
I also opted out of the annual beach vacation. Previously, I had pretended to be enthusiastic about spending two weeks in a cramped beach house with the whole extended family. Now, with an increasing number of children, my excitement had diminished significantly. Just because my mother-in-law cherished this tradition didn’t mean I had to drag my family hundreds of miles to partake.
As a result, we skipped the trip entirely one year. Since then, our visits have been cut to less than two weeks, and we don’t always dine at her preferred establishment. I began asserting that our spring break was meant for our nuclear family, not for an extended getaway with in-laws. My mother-in-law seemed to think I was keeping her from her son, but in reality, I was distancing her from me.
Now, we navigate our relationship with caution. There was an instance when she asked me to change out of my Obama shirt because of her Republican views; I complied, feeling resentful and further straining our relationship. Gifts have diminished in both quality and quantity, while her offerings have turned into pictures of the kids and homemade ornaments. Thankfully, children have an incredible ability to bridge the gaps in strained family ties, and my mother-in-law is, at her core, a decent person — after all, she raised my husband, one of the finest individuals I know.
I often wonder if it’s because of my different tastes or upbringing. Perhaps she is simply oblivious to how her words and actions affect others. But I’ve grown weary of it. I asked my husband to encourage her not to overwhelm our kids with extravagant Christmas gifts, yet she did so anyway. I swiftly hid the gifts and donated them after they lost their novelty.
I accept that I may never measure up to her ideal of a daughter-in-law, one who lives close by, shares her interests, and readily participates in family traditions. I’ve come to realize that I was never truly a part of her world, and I’ve made peace with that.
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In summary, I’ve decided to focus on creating my own family traditions without feeling the pressure to conform to my mother-in-law’s expectations. We may not always see eye to eye, but I’m embracing my autonomy and prioritizing the happiness of my own family.