Some women have mother-in-law problems. I had a husband problem disguised as a mother-in-law problem. When Doreen visited last month, Jake showed me exactly where I ranked in his life – and it wasn’t first.
I’d prepared everything for her stay, down to the lavender-scented guest towels. Imagine my shock walking into my bedroom to find her occupying it like a conquering queen, my belongings tossed aside. Even worse? My husband standing there holding her luggage, acting like this was completely normal.
“It’s just more comfortable for her,” Jake explained, as if that justified banishing me to the smaller guest room. His mother’s triumphant smile told me everything – this wasn’t about comfort, it was about power.
So I took mine back. Quietly, calmly, I packed a bag and left for a luxury hotel. Three days of spa treatments and solitude gave me perspective: I refused to be treated like a second-class citizen in my own home.
When I returned, the dynamic had shifted. Doreen was gone, unable to handle domestic life without me. Jake stood in our suddenly-too-quiet living room, finally understanding the consequences of his actions.
Our confrontation that night was painful but necessary. For the first time, Jake saw how his choices made me feel – like an outsider in my own marriage. As I watched understanding dawn on his face, I knew this would be the last time he’d ever put anyone before me.
Now, as I sleep peacefully in my own bed – our bed – I’m grateful for that difficult week. It taught us both what really matters in a marriage: choosing each other, every single time.
