She Knows Best
There was another girl once. Emily.
The daughter of a friend. The one Margaret had already imagined sharing a future with her son, James. Quiet, gentle, obedient. An accountant at a respectable firm. Most importantly, she understoodno, embracedthe special bond between mother and son. Emily even said once, “Margaret, Id always ask your advice. You know him better than anyone.” Such perfect words.
But this oneKatherine. Impossible to reason with. Every offer of helphow to make Jamess favourite steak, the right way to iron his shirtswas met with a polite but firm, “Thank you, but well manage.” That word*we*cut Margaret like a knife. She was his *mother*. She knew best!
***
At home, Katherines family wasnt exactly thrilled either. At nearly 30, she still lived with her parents, raised her daughter alone, and of course, longed for love. James had proposed moving in together almost immediatelyjust a month after theyd metthough, at first, without the child. Two months later, he suggested marriageas if hed finally found *the one*, ready to build a life together.
Katherine was over the moon. This was the dazzling, all-consuming love shed dreamed of. When anyone tried to temper her joywarning that infatuation was blind, that James wasnt readyshe bristled. She loved him fiercely, convinced she could warm his heart, make him happy, help him “find his wings.”
A month before the wedding, she sat at her mothers kitchen table. Her mum sipped tea, watching her with an odd, quiet sadness.
“Katherine, love you do know James has a difficult temperament, dont you?” she ventured.
“Mum, hes just sensitive!” Katherine shot back. “No ones ever understood him. But *I* do.”
“Its not about understanding, darling. Hes used to being coddledliving under his mothers wing, no responsibilities. Are you prepared to carry everything? Him, his mother, *and* your daughter?”
“Hell loosen his ties once were a proper family! James just needs love and support. I can give him that.”
Her sister Charlotte was blunter. After one visit where James spent the entire evening ranting about his old boss, barely letting anyone else speak, she pulled Katherine aside.
“Chris, your James is a bloody narcissist. Do you *see* that? He doesnt notice anyone elseits all about him.”
“Hes just upset. You havent seen how tender he can behow funny!”
“Youre romanticising him,” Charlotte sighed. “Marriage isnt about tenderness. Its about who takes the bins out and makes you tea when youre ill.”
Katherine didnt listen. She assumed they were jealousdisbelieving of real love. She and James barely argued in those early months. She adored nesting in their new space, trying recipescooking for him was a joy. And with his frequent business trips, they missed each other fiercely. So she brushed off outsiders concerns. And as for her future mother-in-laws meddling? She ignored itthank God James had his own flat. That, at least, gave her hope.
***
If Margaret could have, shed have forbidden the marriage. But it all happened too fasther boy was nearly 34, after all. Hopes that hed discard Katherine like the others within months faded. Worse, the brides family had thrown themselves into wedding planning. Margaret refused to help. She was the grooms only guest, and if the brides parents wanted an extravagant do, that was *their* problem.
At the ceremony, Margaret never took her eyes off the couple. Katherines adoration was obviousshe gazed at James like he hung the moon. *This wont last*, Margaret thought. *Shell tire of him. He cant possibly live with her.*
After the vows, Katherine brought her daughter home, determined to build a family. Margaret lived across London but called, visitedso often it grated. She criticised everything. James never stood up to her. Maybe he didnt know how. And watching Katherine try to “fix” himdemanding he grow upmade Margaret seethe.
When James lost his job, his mother doubled down. Daily calls. Uninvited visits with pies, inspecting the fridge and cupboards.
“Oh, James, you prefer white socks. Katherine, why havent you bought any?”
“Mum, *enough*,” James mutteredbut he wore the socks she brought.
Katherines awakening was slow, painful. First, she couldnt compete with Margarets cooking or cleaning. Second, she worked longer hoursJamess “temporary” unemployment stretched to six months. He waited for severance from his bankrupt firm, refusing to “lower himself” with just *any* job. They lived on Katherines salary and dwindling savings.
Once, when money ran too low for groceries, James said breezily, “Just call Mum. Borrow till payday.”
She froze. “James, were *adults*. Maybe you could actually look for work?”
“You dont believe in me?” His face twisted. “I wont take *any* rubbish job! What, you want me stacking shelves?”
Margaret seized every complaint, every muttered grievance, fanning the flames. *”She doesnt understand you, son. Doesnt appreciate you. I always said. Emily never wouldve treated you like this.”*
She painted an illusiona world where James was wanted, cherished. Unlike Katherines world of nagging, of absurd demands to *grow up*. James stayed silent. Nodded when Margaret scolded over unwashed dishes or muddy footprints. Then, after she left, hed snap at Katherine: *”Why cant you just clean properly?!”*
Katherine fought back, of course. Argued, pleaded. But she hit a wall. James obeyed his mother. He *wanted* to lead his new familybut hed been raised to believe Margarets word was law. *She knew best*. In a crisisbroke, fightinghe ran to *her*. Because she fixed things. Because she provided. Because with her, he was safe.
And financially? James never strained himself. His guilt-ridden father had always bought his way outfancy bikes, a moped, a car, then a flat by 30.
Even before the affair came to light, Katherine knewshed married a perpetual child, doomed to compete with his mother. So when someone sent her *that* video, she didnt bother confronting him. She called her parents, packed her bags, and left.
Margaret, hearing the news, felt only relief. *Finally*, that foolish marriage had crumbled. Her boy was hers again.
First, she comforted him. *”Youre a manthese things happen. She drove you to it. Didnt make a proper home. A man strays when hes unhappy. Dont worry, son. Itll be like before. Ill cook, Ill clean. And who knows? Emily might visit. She always liked you.”*
***
Katherine left resolutelybut she was shattered. In her family, divorce after two years felt like failure. She expected pleas to reconcile, to forgive. But they never came.
Instead, something unexpected happened.
When she called her mother, sobbing, *”I cant do this. Im filing for divorce,”* the reply was simple. *”Alright, love. Come home. Your rooms waiting.”*
That evening, as Katherine spilled every painful detail, her mother listened without interruption.
“Divorce him, darling,” she said softly when Katherine finally fell silent. “Did James ever once put you first?”
“Never, but youre not going to talk me out of it?”
“No. That man will never change. Youd be nursing him forever. Is that what you want?”
Her sister said the same. *”Thank God! Im glad youve woken up.”* Even her grandmothermarried 55 yearsblessed the decision. Her stern father, usually a traditionalist, slammed the table. *”Good for you! No one should tolerate that nonsense.”*
And *that* was when a different anger boiled in Katherine. She stormed to her mother, ready to scream.
“Why didnt any of you *stop* me?!” she choked out. “You *saw* him! At the wedding, beforewhy didnt you *drag* me away?! Did you even *care* who I married?!”
Her mother looked at her, exhausted, loving.
“Katherine, my girl. What would it have changed? If Id begged on my knees outside the registry office, would you have listened? Would you have believed me? Or would you have hated me foreverthinking Id ruined your happiness?”
Katherine had no answer. Of *course* she wouldnt have listened. And they *had* tried to warn hershed just called it jealousy.
“Sometimes, the only way to learn is through your own mistakes,” her mother said gently. “We couldve taken that choice from you. But youd have spent your life wonderingresenting us. Now? You *know*. For yourself. And that lesson? It stays. It hurtsbut its *yours*.”
Katherine weptnot just for the failed marriage, but for the clarity. They hadnt been indifferent. Theyd been wise. Theyd let her fall, so shed learn to see the mannot the fairy tale. And that? That was priceless.
***
What do *you* think?
Its every familys hardest choice. Is it better to stop a doomed marriage, risking permanent estrangement? Or let a loved one stumble, offering support when the illusion shatters? Wheres the line between care and control over anothers fate?
