I Want to Push My Son Towards Divorce. Why Should He Stay with Such a Brainless Wife?

I want to drive my son to divorce. Why does he need such an empty-headed wife?

Theres a stereotype that mothers-in-law are wicked witches who torment poor, helpless daughters-in-law for no reason. Browse online forumsyoull find countless such stories. And here I am, that very evil mother-in-law, not just nitpicking but dead set on destroying my sons marriage. And you know what? Im not ashamed. I know Im right, and Ill explain why, as fury and pain for my boy boil inside me.

My son, William, met this girl, Emily, about five years ago. But he only introduced her to me much laterafter hed already proposed and decided to marry her. From the first glance, I didnt like her, and as it turned out, my instincts were spot onthis girl was an absolute nightmare.

I invited them to my home, our cozy flat in the outskirts of Manchester. Emily hadnt even taken her shoes off when her phone rang. Instead of apologising and saying shed call back, she started gossiping with a friend right there in the hallway. Fifteen minutes! I stood there, grinding my teeth, while she giggled and prattled about nonsense. Right then, I knewsomething was off about her.

At the table, I didnt grill her with serious questionsjust observed. But when the conversation turned to her, her life and plans, everything became clear. She barely scraped through school, was in her final year of college but had no intention of pursuing a degree. Why should she? According to her, a womans place was as a wife and motherend of story. She had no plans to work. Right now, her parents supported her, and soon, I suspected, that burden would fall on my son. She still lived with Mum and Dad but planned to move into our flat after the wedding. And the cherry on top? She was pregnant. Still early days, so the wedding had to happen fast before her secret became obvious. She carried herself like the world owed her everything, as if her pretty face was a ticket to an easy life.

The worst came when William stepped out for a smoke on the balcony. Emily immediately pulled out a pack of slim cigarettes and followed him. Pregnantand smoking! I nearly choked on my rage. What about the baby? She didnt seem to care.

Soon, they married, and we all lived together in my flat. I left for work at dawn, returned by evening, while Emily slept till noon, then lounged around the house doing nothing, ducking out to the balcony for a smoke. She took a leave of absence from college, citing pregnancy. Every night, I came home to chaos: a mountain of dirty dishes, clothes strewn everywhere, an empty fridge. She didnt cook, didnt cleanjust glued herself to her phone, yapping with her mum or mates.

When I asked her to help, she waved me offmorning sickness one day, exhaustion the next. Yet somehow, she still found energy to lounge in cafés with friends or drag William to nightclubs till dawn. I bit my tonguefor my sons sake. Then my grandson was born. And what do you think? Emily didnt change one bit. William was the one up at night with the baby, pushing the pram, taking him to doctors appointments. I helped evenings and weekends, exhausted from work. And her? Sprawled on the sofa, scrolling her phone, smoking like nothing was wrong. I trembled with fury.

I tried talking to hercalmly at first, then sharply. She shrugged me off, smirking. But the worst part? William always defended her. When I pointed out her laziness, her uselessness, he shut me down: Mum, shes trying, its just hard for her. We fought. He shouted at me but never breathed a word of criticism to her. My son, my only boy, blind with love for this empty shell.

The tension became unbearable. One day, I snapped: Take your wife and child and get out! Live on your ownlets see how you manage! They left. William was furious, stopped speaking to me. I tried to make him see the truth, but he built a wall between us. Now he barely calls, never visits. Im certainEmilys poisoning him against me, driving a wedge between us. And I love my son more than life itself, adore my grandson with all my heart.

Ive made up my mind: William doesnt need a wife like this. He deserves bettersomeone clever, caring, not this lazy, irresponsible girl. He may not see it yet, but Ill do whatever it takes to end this marriage. I wont stop until I free him from these chains. One day, hell realise I was right, hug me tight, and say, Thank you, Mum. And well raise my grandson rightwithout her shadow, her indifference, her cigarette smoke. I wont back down. This is my war for my boys happiness.