When we first got married, I thought it was sweet how close he was to his mom. Sunday phone calls, sending her flowers on random Tuesdays, even checking in when he made a big decision—normal stuff, right?
But that was five years ago.
Now? Nothing—and I mean nothing—happens in our life unless she says it can.
I wanted to paint the kitchen. He said we should “wait and see what Mom thinks.”
I mentioned starting a family. He told her first. She told me I wasn’t ready.
It started feeling less like a family bond and more like I was married to both of them.
He doesn’t make choices anymore. He waits for her approval. About money. About where we go on vacation. Even how I dress sometimes—he’ll say, “Mom wouldn’t like that.”
The worst part is when I bring it up to him. He gets defensive, claiming I’m being “too sensitive” or “overreacting.” But deep down, I can see it in his eyes—he knows it’s not normal. He knows that his relationship with his mom is interfering with ours. But he still chooses her over me.
I’ve tried to talk to her, too, but it’s like she’s always had this unspoken power over him. She’s sweet and charming to my face, but there’s this underlying tone that suggests I’ll never be enough. She’s always been nice to me, but her comments, especially about things like how I should raise kids, how I should manage the house, or even the way I’ve decorated our living room, are subtly critical. It’s like she’s trying to push me out of my own life.
For a long time, I didn’t know what to do. I kept telling myself that maybe I was just being insecure. Maybe I was being unreasonable. But things kept building up, and the more it happened, the more I felt like I was losing control of my own life.
One evening, we were sitting at the dinner table when I mentioned that I’d been offered a promotion at work. I was excited, but also nervous about taking on more responsibility. Before I could get another word out, my husband looked at me with this confused expression and said, “I don’t know, I’ll have to check with Mom. She’s been really worried about your stress levels lately.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. I hadn’t even spoken to her about my job. How could she be worried about something that I hadn’t shared with anyone but my husband? It was the first time I felt my heart break from the constant undermining of my own autonomy.
I couldn’t believe it. In that moment, I realized how much of my life was being controlled by someone else—someone who wasn’t even a part of our marriage.
I needed a break. I couldn’t keep living like this. I took the weekend off to visit a friend who lived a few hours away. I thought a little distance might help me see things clearly. But even then, it wasn’t easy to escape the weight of it all. Every time I checked my phone, I had a message from him, asking me to call him and let him know when I’d be back. And, of course, there was the text from his mom, asking if I was having a good time and if I’d be back soon.
When I got home, I was exhausted from the emotional toll of the past few days. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to face him, or if I even had the strength to confront him again. But there was no avoiding it. I knew that if I didn’t speak up, I’d only continue to lose myself in this twisted dynamic.
So, I sat him down that night, my heart racing as I tried to find the words. “I can’t keep doing this,” I said, my voice shaking. “I feel like I’m losing myself. You don’t make decisions without consulting her, and you don’t even ask how I feel anymore.”
He looked at me, taken aback. “What are you talking about? You know she’s just trying to help. She’s been there for me, and I’m trying to make everyone happy. Why can’t you understand that?”
“Because I’m not happy,” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. “I feel like I’m invisible in my own marriage. Like nothing matters unless she says it’s okay. I don’t want to compete with your mom for your attention, but that’s exactly what’s happening. I need you to be my partner, not her proxy.”
He stayed quiet, his face softening as he processed what I was saying. For a moment, I thought he might finally get it. But then he said, “I just don’t want to disappoint her. She’s been through a lot, and I don’t know how to tell her no.”
I felt a surge of frustration rise up in me. “You don’t have to choose between me and her. It’s not about that. It’s about you being able to stand up for your own life, for our life. You need to stop letting her make decisions for us.”
It wasn’t the answer I wanted, but it was a start. That night, I went to bed uncertain of where this was going, but hopeful that maybe we could finally have an honest conversation about it.
The next day, I got a call. It was from his mother. I didn’t recognize the number at first, and when I answered, there was a coldness in her voice I hadn’t heard before.
“I know what you said to my son,” she began, no pleasantries, just straight to the point. “You have no right to tell him how to manage his relationship with me. I’ve been there for him long before you came along, and I won’t stand for you trying to come between us.”
I felt my breath catch in my throat. The audacity. She was trying to guilt-trip me into feeling like the villain here, but I wouldn’t back down.
“I’m not trying to come between you,” I said, my voice steady, though my hands were shaking. “I’m just asking for respect. I’m his wife, and I need to be his priority. You don’t get to control everything in his life.”
There was silence on the other end, and then, with a sharp tone, she replied, “You’ll regret this. He’ll always choose me.”
I hung up the phone, my heart racing. I knew she wouldn’t give up easily. But in that moment, I also realized something. She wasn’t the one holding the power. I was. And if I wanted to take control of my own life again, I had to stop letting her influence it.
The next few weeks were tense, but I started drawing clearer boundaries with both of them. I told my husband that I loved him and respected his relationship with his mother, but I would no longer be sidelined. I made it clear that I expected him to stand up for our marriage—not just for me, but for us as a team.
Surprisingly, he started to listen. Slowly but surely, I began to see small changes. When it came to big decisions, he started to consult me first, asking for my input before reaching out to his mom. And when she would call to voice her concerns, he would tell her that he needed to discuss things with me before making any decisions.
There were moments of tension, of course. She didn’t like it, and sometimes, I could feel her trying to drive a wedge between us. But each time, we grew stronger. The more my husband saw how his mom’s influence was affecting our relationship, the more he realized that the balance needed to shift.
And then, one day, I received an unexpected message from her. It was a simple text, saying, “I’ve been thinking about what you said. I’ve never meant to make you feel like you weren’t enough. I’ll try to respect your boundaries, as long as you understand that I’ll always be a part of his life.”
It wasn’t an apology, but it was a start. The message was a sign of change. She was starting to acknowledge my role in his life, even if it was grudgingly. I couldn’t change everything overnight, but I could see the shift happening.
I learned that standing up for myself and setting boundaries didn’t mean I was being selfish. It meant I valued my own worth. It meant that I understood that a relationship—any relationship—needed to be built on mutual respect. And in the end, it made our bond stronger.
The message here is simple: don’t be afraid to stand up for what you need. Sometimes, the hardest decisions are the ones that will lead you to the most growth. Don’t let anyone, no matter how well-intentioned they seem, diminish your voice or your worth.
If you’ve ever been in a similar situation, share this post. Let others know they’re not alone, and that it’s never too late to take control of their own lives. Like and share, because the more we talk about these things, the more we can help each other find our strength.
