“My Mother-in-Law Treats Me Like a Maid”: She Always Says I’m Lucky to Have a House to Clean

Living with my mother-in-law, Hazel, has been an ongoing challenge, one that seems to grow more complicated as the years pass. At 58, one might expect maturity and a sense of respect for boundaries, but Hazel often behaves more like a child than the two I’m already mother to.

My husband, John, is Hazel’s only son, and their bond is undeniable. He supports her in every way, driven by a deep-seated love that blinds him to her manipulative tendencies. I’ve always known about their close relationship, but it wasn’t until we moved into the family home to save money for our growing family that I truly understood the dynamics at play.

Hazel has a way of making her presence felt, and not in a comforting manner. From the moment I step out of our bedroom in the morning to the time I switch off the lights at night, her eyes follow me, critiquing every action. “You’re lucky to have such a big house to keep clean,” she often says, a backhanded compliment that underscores her view of me more as a servant than a daughter-in-law.

Despite my efforts to involve her in our lives positively, Hazel remains distant to me, yet overly dependent on John. She requests his help for even the smallest of tasks, tasks she’s perfectly capable of doing herself. This wouldn’t be a problem if it didn’t interfere with our family time. John, ever the dutiful son, rushes to her aid, leaving me to manage our children, Aria and Nathan, and all the household chores single-handedly.

The situation reached a boiling point last week. We were planning Nathan’s 5th birthday party, a task that required both John and my attention. However, Hazel decided she needed to redecorate her room right then and insisted John help her choose new curtains and paint colors. Frustrated, I confronted John, expressing how overwhelmed I felt, juggling the children, the party planning, and the daily upkeep of the house without his support.

His response was disheartening. “She’s my mother, Scarlett. She won’t be around forever,” he said, dismissing my feelings as though they were trivial. The conversation ended there, with John walking away to assist Hazel, leaving me in tears, feeling alone and unappreciated.

The party went ahead as planned, but the joy of the occasion was overshadowed by the growing rift in our marriage. Guests commented on how well everything was put together, not seeing the silent tears I wiped away when no one was looking.

Now, as we lay plans to welcome a third child into our family, I find myself questioning the sustainability of our living arrangement. The thought of managing another baby in this emotionally charged atmosphere fills me with dread rather than joy.

I love John, but as each day passes, Hazel’s intrusive behavior drives a wedge further between us. I’m left wondering if our marriage can withstand the strain or if I’ll eventually be forced to choose between my happiness and my husband’s loyalty to his mother.

As I watch Hazel, with her childlike defiance, I realize that some things may never change. And perhaps, neither will our situation.