She Knows Best
There had been another girlTabitha.
The daughter of a family friend. The one Margaret had already imagined building a future with her son, Michael. Quiet, obedient, the perfect match. An accountant at a respectable firm. And most importantlyshe understood the unbreakable bond between mother and son. Tabitha had even said once, *”Margaret, Id always ask your adviceyou know him better than anyone.”* The right words, the right girl.
But this oneChristinawas impossible. Every offer of help, every suggestionhow to season Michaels steak, how to iron his shirtswas met with the same polite but firm refusal: *”Thanks, but well manage.”* That *”well manage”* cut Margaret to the bone. She was his *mother*. She *knew* best.
***
Christinas family wasnt thrilled either. At nearly thirty, she still lived with her parents, raising her daughter alone, dreaming of love. Michael proposed quicklyjust a month after they metthough at first, without the child. Two months later, he took her to the registry office, declaring hed finally found *the one*.
Christina was over the moon. This was the blinding, all-consuming love shed dreamed of. When anyone warned her*love is blind, he isnt ready*she bristled. She loved him fiercely, certain she could warm him, make him happy, help him *”spread his wings.”*
A month before the wedding, she sat at her mothers kitchen table. Her mum sipped tea, watching her with quiet sadness.
*”Christina, love you know Michaels temperament isnt straightforward?”*
*”Mum, hes just sensitive!”* Christina shot back. *”No ones ever understood him. But I do.”*
*”Its not about understanding, darling. Hes spent his life coddled, no responsibilities. Are you ready to carry him, his mother, *and* your daughter?”*
*”Hell pull away from her once were a family! He just needs love!”*
Her sister Veronica was blunter. After an evening with Michaelwhere hed monologued about his grievances without letting anyone else speakshe pulled Christina aside:
*”Chris, your Michael is a textbook narcissist. How cant you see it? He doesnt notice anyone but himself.”*
*”He was upset! You havent seen how sweet he can be!”*
*”Youre idealising him,”* Veronica sighed. *”Marriage isnt about sweetnessits about who takes the bins out and brings you tea when youre ill.”*
Christina didnt listen. She was sure they were just jealous of her whirlwind romance. She loved setting up their home, cooking for himhis frequent business trips made reunions sweeter. She ignored all warnings, brushing off Margarets meddlingthankfully, Michael had his own flat.
***
Margaret wouldve *forbidden* the marriage if she could. But it happened too fasther boy was nearly thirty-four. Hopes that hed discard Christina like the others faded when her family got involved. Margaret refused to help with the wedding, attending only as Michaels sole guest. She watched the brides adoring gaze with disdain. *This wont last.*
After the ceremony, Christina moved her daughter in, determined to build a life. But Margaret called and visited so often it grated. She criticised everything. Michael never contradicted herperhaps couldnt. Seeing Christina try to *”fix”* him enraged Margaret.
When Michael lost his job, Margaret doubled downdaily calls, unannounced visits with pies, inspecting the fridge.
*”Michael, you prefer white socks. Christina, why havent you bought any?”*
*”Mum, *enough*,”* hed grumblebut wore the socks she brought.
Christinas awakening was slow and painful. First, she couldnt compete with Margarets cooking or cleaning. Second, she worked moreMichaels *”temporary”* unemployment dragged on. He waited for a payout from his bankrupt company, refusing *”beneath him”* jobs. They lived on Christinas salary and savings.
Once, when money ran low, he said breezily:
*”Just borrow from Mum till payday.”*
She froze.
*”Michael, were *adults*. Maybe start job-hunting?”*
*”You dont believe in me?”* His face twisted. *”I wont just take *any* job! Want me stacking shelves?”*
Margaret seized every complaint, stoking resentment:
*”She doesnt *understand* you, son. *Tabitha* wouldnt treat you like this.”*
She painted a world where Michael was cherishedunlike Christinas world of *nagging*. Hed nod at Margarets critiquesdirty dishes, sand in the hallwaythen snap at Christina: *”Why cant you just *clean* properly?!”*
Christina fought back, but hit a wall. Michael obeyed Margaret. He *wanted* to lead his new familybut shed raised him to defer to her. In crises, he ran to her. She fixed things. She *provided*. His father, guilt-ridden, had bought him everythingbikes, cars, even his flat.
Before the cheating came to light, Christina knew the truth: shed married a perpetual child, doomed to compete with his mother. So when *that* video surfaced, she didnt confront him. She called her parents, packed her bags, and left.
Margaret was *relieved*. *Finally*, that foolish marriage was over. Her boy was hers again.
*”Youre a manthese things happen,”* she soothed. *”She drove you to it. Didnt make a proper home. A happy man doesnt stray. Dont worry, love. Mummys here. Well get things back to normal. Maybe Tabitha will visitshe always liked you.”*
***
Christina left decisivelybut was shattered. In her family, divorce after two years felt like failure. She expected pleas to *”make it work”*but none came.
Then came the surprise.
When she called her mum, sobbing *”Im done. I want a divorce,”* the reply was calm: *”Alright, love. Come home.”*
That evening, as Christina spilled every detail, her mother listened.
*”Divorce him,”* she finally said. *”Did he *ever* compromise for you?”*
*”No, butyoure not going to talk me out of it?”*
*”No. That man wont change. Youd nurse him forever. Is that what you want?”*
Her sister cheered: *”Thank God you woke up!”* Even her grandparentsmarried fifty-five yearssupported her. Her stern father slammed the table: *”Good. You shouldnt tolerate that rubbish.”*
Then came the *real* hurt. Christina stormed to her mother, tears burning.
*”Why didnt you *stop* me?! You *saw* what he was like! At the wedding, before itwhy didnt you *drag* me away?! Did you even *care* who I married?!”*
Her mother looked at her, tired and loving.
*”Christina, my darling. What wouldve changed? If Id begged outside the registry, would you have listened? Or would you have hated me forever, convinced I ruined your happiness?”*
Christina had no answer. Of *course* she wouldnt have listened. They *had* warned hershed called it jealousy.
*”Sometimes, the only way to learn is through your own mistakes,”* her mother said softly. *”We couldve taken that choice from youbut youd have spent your life mourning a fairy tale and blaming us. Now you *know*. For yourself. And that lesson stays with you forever. It hurtsbut its *yours*.”*
Christina weptnot just for the broken marriage, but for the truth. They *hadnt* been indifferent. Theyd been *wise*. Theyd let her fall, so shed learn to see the mannot the fantasy. And that was priceless.
***
What do you think?
The hardest dilemma. Whats rightstopping a doomed marriage, risking permanent estrangement? Or letting a loved one learn the hard way, ready to catch them when they fall? Wheres the line between care and control?
