My entry into this family was complicated. I married Eric after we met in college, and we both planned careers in finance. Those plans changed when his father passed, and Eric, being an only child, was deeply concerned for his mother. To keep her company, he asked me to quit my job and move into his family home three weeks later. I reluctantly agreed, hoping it wouldn’t be too burdensome, but my mother-in-law’s attitude quickly turned frigid. Her cold, unwelcoming gaze made it immediately clear she profoundly disapproved of me. Despite the hostile reception, I tried to remain positive, brushing off her faint, muttered critiques. I chose to ignore the clear signs of her deep, underlying resentment, determined to endure the situation for the sake of Eric and our future together.
Living with her rapidly proved to be far more challenging than I had ever anticipated. Every single day became a relentless, mentally and physically exhausting barrage of constant critiques and tasks. One morning, I was violently jolted awake at five a.m. by her loud voice harshly demanding that I make her breakfast. Her reasoning was simple and brutal: “Don’t just lay around because you’re not working,” she scolded sharply. Though the early hour was completely absurd, I didn’t dare argue and immediately began the meal preparation, enduring her endless, biting critiques about my speed and efficiency. She complained that the soup was far too salty, even accusing me: “Are you trying to deliberately kill me with these salty meals?” I was stunned, feeling completely overwhelmed by the constant pressure of her unwarranted hostility.
For over a month, I endured this draining routine, pushing through the daily domestic servitude because I knew Eric was struggling with something significant. Shortly after, he reluctantly revealed his own massive secret: he had been laid off from his job due to an economic downturn and would soon be officially unemployed. He then hesitantly admitted that he had been secretly using his previous knowledge to trade stocks, and was now successfully earning about $41,000 per month. This monumental financial relief allowed me to temporarily set aside my mother-in-law’s persistent harassment. However, after Eric’s official employment ended, he began to spend most of his time at home, offering flimsy excuses instead of seriously looking for a new job, leaving me as the quiet, primary financial provider.
The morning I chose to ignore her nagging while cleaning, she utterly lost control. She screamed, “How dare you ignore me! You’re just a mere daughter-in-law with no job! Unemployed and uneducated people like you should immediately leave this house!” In her sudden, blinding rage, she splashed the hot coffee water she had prepared directly onto me. Thankfully, the water wasn’t boiling hot, so I avoided severe burns, but the potential for disaster was terrifying. That was the last straw; completely exhausted by her relentless hostility, I firmly declared, “All right, I’ll leave,” and swiftly packed my belongings, heading directly back to my parents’ home without a moment’s hesitation, finally done with the toxic environment.
A tense month passed without a single word from Eric. I finally began to contemplate divorce, recognizing that his failure to contact me spoke volumes about his priorities. Then, unexpectedly, Eric and my mother-in-law showed up at my parents’ door, banging violently. Through the intercom, she harshly demanded, “I’ve forgiven you now, come back home quickly!” I was utterly perplexed, asking, “Forgiven me for what? You’re the one who told me to leave.” When I reluctantly let them in, my mother-in-law arrogantly insisted that she, despite her forgiveness, would still “allow” an “unemployed and uneducated” person like me to stay there. That was the moment I revealed the truth about Eric’s job loss, stunning them both.
Their sudden, frantic shift from dominance to pleading—after Eric learned she had poured hot water on me and they realized my income was their lifeline—was profoundly insulting. I flatly refused to return, certain they would only take advantage of me again. Finally, I handed Eric the pre-filled divorce papers, signed and complete. He tried to protest, claiming it was too sudden, completely oblivious to how his silence had caused our marital problem. Unmoved, I told him, “I’m done with someone who won’t find a job and didn’t even contact me.” I made it clear I wanted no compensation, telling them both to go home. That day, I finalized the divorce, securing my escape from the harassment and the strain of Eric’s unemployment.
