My husband makes me happy. His mom makes me very unhappy. She’s a terrible person, but my husband loves her so much and listens to her more often than he listens to me. He tells me, “Go to her with an open mind and listen to her with an open heart. You’ll then realize she’s a good person.”

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I tried. I even asked him to bring her to come and live with us so we could bond. I went to her with an open mind, and she poured sand in it. When I opened my heart to receive love and give love, all she did was take from me and give nothing back.

She fought me more than she didn’t. She dictated the pace of the house. She determined what we should eat and what we should not. My husband’s mistake became my mistake. She blamed me for everything. I couldn’t complain to my husband because I knew what he would say.

She left our place one December morning, and I did the sign of the cross. My husband asked, “How did it go? Did you see her in any light different from what you already knew?” I answered, “She is still a terrible person, and you know it. Maybe not to you, but to me. I’ve stopped trying.”

When I heard she was seriously sick, I prayed she would die. I will be honest about this because that woman rocks my boat the way nobody has ever done. My husband was going to visit her, and he asked me to follow him. I asked him, “You don’t want your mother to live, right?” He asked why, and I told him, “If she sees me next to you, she will start looking for something to get angry about, and that will make her situation worse.”

I saw the look on my husband’s face when he returned, and I prayed to God, “God, let his mother live because I wouldn’t know how to bring him back to normal if he loses his mom.”

She lived. She told my husband I was responsible for her sickness because it only happened when she left. “Maybe she put something in my water to end me, but God saved me.”

It wasn’t always like that. We were cool when we were dating. I wouldn’t say we were friends or had a great relationship, but she was a mother to me, and I approached her with a lot of respect. This new attitude started when we got married. I’ve searched deep and low, past and present. I couldn’t pinpoint one thing I did wrong to deserve this.

It hurts me so much that there’s one thing my husband loves but I can’t love: his mother. My husband has been able to turn me into a lover of horrible things, including sushi—me, who hates anything fresh—but I can’t love his mom because of how she treats me.

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Currently, we are keeping boundaries: her turf there, my turf here. I don’t go where she is, and she doesn’t come where I am. She told my husband to ensure it’s like that even when she dies, meaning she doesn’t even want me at her funeral. I’m happy in my marriage only when I don’t think about her. When she comes to mind, I feel like I’ve failed my husband, and this hurts me sometimes.

—Dorothy

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