Connect with us

З життя

Моя невістка відкрито зізналася в ненависті до мене – звинувачує в спробі зруйнувати її сім’ю.

Published

on

Важко уявити, але моя невістка навіть не намагається приховати своєї ненависті до мене! Вона не соромиться висловлювати це при кожній нагоді. І найстрашніше — мій син про це знає! Так, ось вона я — шістдесятирічна жінка з тихого містечка під Львовом, яка мріяла бути люблячою матір’ю та свекрухою, оточеною теплотою та повагою. Я завжди знала, що виховувати єдину дитину — це ризиковано. Не можна складати всі яйця в один кошик, але хто ж міг подумати, що це обернеться таким жахом?

Моя невістка, Ярина, з першої зустрічі здалася мені занадто різкою, наче буря, яку неможливо спинити. Коли Тарас, мій син, вперше привів її до нашої домівки, я відчула холодок, дивлячись у її темні, проникливі очі. Вона дивилася так, ніби сканувала кожну деталь, кожну мою зморшку, кожен куток кімнати. Інтуїція шепотіла: «Оберігайся», але я відкинула це. Вирішила, що це просто нерви, і намагалася прийняти дівчину, яку мій син обрав за дружину. Що могло піти не так на першій зустрічі з майбутньою невісткою? О, як я помилялася!

Перше, що кинулося в очі — це її зверхність. Я читала в журналах, що один із ознак токсичної людини — грубість до тих, хто нижчий за статусом. І в свої роки я все ще вірю таким речам. У той день ми сиділи у кафе, і Ярина раптово накинулася на офіціанта, як яструб на здобич. Її десерт, бачте, виглядав “неапетитно”, і вона вимагала замінити його, ще й з тоном, наче хлопець був її особистим слугою. Я намагалася виправдати її — може, вона хвилюється, може, невдалий день. Але тепер я знаю: це був перший дзвіночок, який я ігнорувала.

Друге — її зовнішній вигляд. Вибачте, що кажу про це, але її вбрання того дня було просто викликом. Глибокий виріз, коротка спідниця — ні, швидше обтягуючий комбінезон, що ледве прикривав тіло. Спортивний стиль? Модна примха? Не знаю, що зараз у тренді, але це кричало про неповагу. Вона знала, що йде знайомитися зі мною, матір’ю свого нареченого, і могла обрати щось скромніше, якщо б хоч трішки мене поважала. Але ні, їй було байдуже.

Коли вони одружилися і почали жити разом, мені стало сумно. Я сумувала за своїм єдиним сином, за його дзвінким сміхом у нашому домі. Місяць я трималася, не дзвонила, не втручалася в їхнє життя. Але потім почала понемножку набирати номер — він же моя дитина, моя кров, хіба я повинна вибачатися за це? Виявилося, Ярину це дратувало. Вона не приховувала свого роздратування і навіть казала Тарасові при мені: «Клади трубку, досить з нею балакати». Стояла поруч, а я все чула — кожне її слово, гостре, як ніж.

Я не хотіла розпалювати скандал, але зустрілася з Тарасом наодинці і запитала прямо: що відбувається? Він зітхнув і розповів. Виявляється, у Ярини нелегке минуле: був хлопець, вагітність, він покинув її, не взявши відповідальності, і вона втратила дитину. Після цього її психіка дала тріщину — довелося звертатися до лікарів. Тарас запевняв, що вона просто переживає стрес, що це тимчасово, що консультації психолога все виправлять. Але я бачила інше: її погляд, її різкість — це не просто нерви, це щось глибше. І я не могла вдавати, що вірю в його слова.

А потім стався вибух. Через декілька днів після нашої розмови Ярина дізналася, що Тарас говорив зі мною про неї. І тут вона зірвалася. Телефонний дзвінок вночі став для мене громом серед ясного неба. Вона кричала, звинувачувала мене в тому, що я хочу зруйнувати їхній шлюб, що я зла старуха, яка мріє позбутися її. Її голос дрижав від люті, і я зрозуміла: вона любить Тараса, але це любов хвороблива, купка, як павутина. Єдиний промінь світла в тій темряві — її почуття до нього справжні. Але мені від цього не легше.

Тарас не став на мій захист. Я не розумію, чому мій син, мій хлопчик, якого я виховувала з такою любов’ю, не може сказати їй жодного слова поперек. Він наче під її владою, під її поглядом, який тримає його, як повідок. Він не грубить мені, але кожного разу повторює: «Мамо, я дорослий. У мене своя сім’я. Я сам вирішу, коли дзвонити, коли приїхати». Формально він правий, але я бачу: це вона диктує йому правила. Вона керує їхнім життям.

До речі, вони живуть у її квартирі — трикімнатній, новій, з блискучим ремонтом. Я розумію, наскільки важлива власність у наші дні, особливо в місті. Але чи варто заради цього поривати зв’язок із матір’ю? Невже квадратні метри важливіші за кров? Я ставлю собі ці запитання, і серце стискається від болю.

Я все ще сподіваюся, що час розставить все на свої місця. Може, потрібно просто потерпити, дати їм шанс розібратися. Але з кожним днем я все ясніше бачу: мені пора відпустити. Я зробила свою справу як мати — виростила здорового сина, дала йому крила. А далі — його шлях, його вибір. І все ж таки в глибині душі я молюся, щоб ця буря вщухла, щоб ми знову стали сім’єю. Але поки що я стою на узбіччі їхнього життя, дивлячись, як мій син розчиняється в її світі, і не знаю, чи вистачить у мене сил дочекатися змін…

Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Ваша e-mail адреса не оприлюднюватиметься. Обов’язкові поля позначені *

дев'ять + вісімнадцять =

Також цікаво:

З життя29 хвилин ago

“We’ll Stay at Your Place for a While Since We Can’t Afford to Rent a Flat!” – My Friend Announced At 65, I’m a lively woman, never letting age stop me from exploring new places or meeting fascinating people. I look back at my youth with both joy and a touch of sadness. Back then, you could holiday anywhere you fancied! From seaside trips to camping adventures with friends, even sailing down any river you chose—all for just a little money. Sadly, those days are behind me now. I always loved meeting new people—on the beach, at the theatre, anywhere really. Many of those acquaintances became lifelong friends. One summer, I met Sara while staying at the same B&B. We parted as friends, keeping in touch with the occasional letter over the years. Then one day, I received an unsigned telegram: “The train arrives at 3 a.m. Please meet me!” Puzzled about who had sent it, my husband and I stayed put. But at four in the morning, our doorbell rang. To my shock, there stood Sara with two teenage girls, a grandmother, and a man, all surrounded by heaps of luggage. My husband and I were baffled but let these unexpected guests in. Sara exclaimed: – “Why didn’t you meet us? I sent you a telegram! Besides, that’s not cheap! – Sorry, we didn’t know who sent it! – Well, you gave me your address. So here we are. – I thought we’d stick to letters, nothing more!” Sara explained that one of the girls had just left school and decided to go to university, so the whole family came to support her. – “We’ll be living with you! We can’t afford to rent a flat or stay in a hotel!” I was stunned. We weren’t even related—why should we let them stay? We had to feed them three times a day; although they brought a bit of food, they cooked nothing and ate ours. I was left to serve everyone. After three exhausting days, I asked Sara and her family to leave—I didn’t care where to. That sparked a row. Sara smashed crockery and screamed hysterically. I was appalled. As they packed, they even managed to steal my dressing gown, a few towels, and somehow my large cooking pot vanished too—no idea how! That was the end of our friendship—and thank heavens! I’ve never heard from her since. How could anyone be so cheeky?! Now, I’m much more wary when I meet new people.

Well be staying at yours for a while. We dont have any money to rent a flat!my friend declared. I...

З життя34 хвилини ago

A Christmas Eve Miracle: How Forgetting a Gift, a Stray Kitten, and a Chance Encounter Turned the Holidays Around for Peter, Anna, and Little Masha in London

Miracle on New Year’s Eve Tom, seriously, how could you forget? Emily said, exasperated, glaring at her husband from across...

З життя1 годину ago

He Hated His Wife. Hated Her… They Spent 15 Years Together, Fifteen Mornings Waking Up Side by Side—But Only in the Last Year Did Her Habits Begin to Drive Him Mad, Especially One: Stretching Out Her Arms in Bed and Sleepily Saying, “Good Morning, Sunshine! Today Will Be a Wonderful Day.” What Seemed a Simple Phrase, Her Slim Arms, Her Sleepy Face, Now Filled Him with Disgust. She’d Rise, Walk Past the Window, Gaze Out for a While, Then Slip off Her Nightdress and Head to the Bathroom. Early in Marriage, He’d Adored Her Body, Its Natural Confidence That Seemed Almost Indecent—But Now, Though She Was Still Beautiful, Her Nakedness Made Him Angry. Once, He Even Considered Pushing Her to Hurry Her Morning Routine but Only Managed a Gruff: “Get a Move On—I’ve Had Enough!” She Refused to Rush or Let His Affectionless Hostility Change Her Pace—She Knew About His Affair, Even Recognized the Young Woman He’d Been Seeing for Three Years. Time Dulles the Sharp Sting of Pride, Leaving Only a Lingering Sense of Uselessness. She Forgave Him—the Aggression, the Neglect, His Need to Relive His Youth—But She Wouldn’t Let Him Rob Her of Living Mindfully, Cherishing Each Moment. She’d Made Up Her Mind When She Learned She Was Ill. The Disease Was Slowly Consuming Her; It Would Win Soon. Her First Urge Was to Confess to Everyone—To Lessen the Brutal Truth by Sharing the Burden with Loved Ones. Yet She Endured the Hardest Day Alone, Accepting Her Fate, and Then Resolved to Remain Silent. Life Slipped Away, Yet Each Day She Gained the Wisdom of a True Observer. She Found Solace in a Quiet English Countryside Library, a Ninety-Minute Walk Each Way. Every Day, She’d Hide in the Narrow Aisles Marked “Life & Death’s Secrets” by the Elderly Librarian and Lose Herself in Books She Hoped Contained Every Answer. He’d Go to His Lover’s Flat, Where Everything Felt Warm, Bright, Familiar. Their Love Affair Had Grown Wild—Three Years of Passion, Jealousy, Heartache, and Asphyxiating Desire. Today He Came With a Decision: Divorce. Why Torment All Three of Them? He Didn’t Love His Wife—No, He Hated Her—and Here, He Could Start Fresh, Find Happiness. He Tried to Recall His Feelings for His Wife, but There Was Nothing—He Couldn’t Even Remember Caring for Her on That First Day. He Pulled Out a Photo of Her from His Wallet, Tore It Into Pieces—Determined to End It. They Arranged to Meet at the Restaurant Where, Six Months Earlier, They’d Celebrated Fifteen Years as Husband and Wife. She Arrived First. He Stopped Home to Find the Divorce Papers, Ransacking Drawers in a Panic Until He Spotted a Dark Blue Folder He’d Never Seen Before. He Ripped Off the Seal, Expecting Dirty Secrets—But Found Only Medical Reports, Official Documents. His Wife’s Name on Every Page. Realisation Struck Like Lightning; She Was Ill. He Googled the Diagnosis: “6–18 Months Life Expectancy.” Six Months Had Already Passed. He Remembered Little of What Happened Next—Only the Words “6–18 Months” Looping Relentlessly in His Mind. She Waited for Forty Minutes. No Answer from His Phone. She Paid the Bill and Went Outside. The Autumn Weather Was Glorious—The Sun Gentle, Comforting. “Life Is Beautiful, the World So Wonderful, So Warm.” For the First Time Since Her Diagnosis, She Felt Sorry for Herself. She’d Found the Strength to Hide Her Secret from Everyone, Sparing Them the Pain at the Cost of Her Own Crumbling Life. After This Year, She Would Be Nothing but a Memory. She Wandered Down the Street, Watching Bright Faces Filled With Hope Of Winters and Springs Yet to Come—As If the Future Were Theirs To Shape. She Would Never Know That Feeling Again. Bitterness Swelled and Burst Forth as Tears She Couldn’t Stop… He Paced the Room. For the First Time, He Felt The Swift Passage of Life as a Physical Ache. He Remembered His Wife Young, Full of Hope When They First Met—He’d Loved Her Then. In That Moment, Fifteen Years Vanished: Happiness, Youth, and Life Still Ahead. In Her Final Weeks, He Became Devoted, At Her Side Every Hour, Overcome by a Joy He’d Never Known. He Was Terrified She’d Leave—He Would Have Given His Own Life to Save Hers. Had Someone Reminded Him Of His Hatred Just a Month Ago, He’d Have Sworn: “That Wasn’t Me.” He Witnessed Her Battle to Say Goodbye, Weeping Secretly at Night When She Thought He Slept—He Understood No Punishment Was Worse Than Knowing Your Days Are Numbered. He Saw Her Fight for Every Moment, Grasping Even the Smallest Hope. She Died Two Months Later. He Covered the Path from Home to Cemetery in Flowers. He Wept Like a Child as Her Coffin Was Lowered—He Felt Centuries Older. At Home, Beneath Her Pillow, He Found a New Year’s Wish She Had Written: “To Be Happy With Him Until My Last Day.” They Say All New Year’s Wishes Come True—Perhaps They Do, For That Year He Wrote: “To Be Free.” In the End, Each Got Exactly What, It Seemed, They Had Wished For…

He loathed his wife. Loathed her. Theyd spent fifteen years togetherfifteen whole years in which he saw her each morning,...

З життя2 години ago

My Father-in-Law Was Speechless When He Saw the Shocking Conditions We Were Living In

My father-in-law was speechless when he saw how we were living I met my husband at a wedding of a...

З життя2 години ago

The Grey Mouse Is Happier Than You

Emily, honestly, are you kidding me right now? Jessica stared at her faded cotton dress with a look reserved for...

З життя2 години ago

She Got My Mother-in-Law Back on Her Feet—Yet I’m Furious Because I Didn’t Weed the Vegetable Beds — “What are you doing here?” Standing in the middle of the swan-shaped flower beds, my mother-in-law shouted, “There’s never been such disgrace here before! I had seven children—never a single weed!” Her shriek drew the neighbours, who clung to the fence like crows and immediately dissected everything they heard. Seeing her audience, my mother-in-law took great pleasure in performing. I stood, speechless, as she went on. At last, worn out from shouting, she drew a breath and said loudly enough for all the neighbours to hear: I didn’t say a word. I walked calmly past my mother-in-law, holding my child even closer. Once inside, I divided up, in a special box, everything my mother-in-law was to take that evening and the next morning. Without folding anything, I tossed my son’s things and mine into a bag. I left without saying a word. Three days later, my mother-in-law called: “What did you do with all those things the professor gave her? I asked the neighbour to buy a few, but she said one jar is very expensive. The ones with foreign labels, well, we don’t use those or exchange them. So what am I to do? You left, offended for some reason, and here I am, about to meet my maker!” I didn’t reply. I turned off my phone and took out the SIM card. That’s it. I can’t go on—I have no physical or emotional strength left. A year ago, just before my son was born, my husband lost control of his car on an icy road. I vaguely remember saying goodbye for the last time, the ambulance taking him away, and waking up the next morning as a new mother… I didn’t care about anything. The world felt empty and pointless without my beloved husband. I nursed and rocked my son like clockwork, because that’s what I was told to do. A phone call snapped me out of my stupor. “Your mother-in-law is in bad shape. Apparently, she won’t last much longer.” I made my decision at once: after settling things, I sold my flat in London. I invested some of the money into building a home, so my son will have something of his own when he grows up. And I went to save my mother-in-law. This past year, I haven’t really lived—I’ve just existed. I had no time for sleep, caring for both my mother-in-law and my baby son. The baby was restless, and my mother-in-law required round-the-clock care. At least I had the money. I called in the best specialists from all over the UK; I bought every medication prescribed. Eventually, my mother-in-law returned to normal life. At first, I wheeled her through the house, then around the garden. By the end, she was strong enough to walk—on her own—as if nothing had happened… I don’t want to know her now, or hear from her ever again. Let her work out everything she needs for her recovery herself. At least I was wise enough not to spend all the money on her recovery. My son and I moved to our new flat. I never imagined it would end like this. I wanted to be close with my husband’s family, since I am an orphan myself. But now it’s just me. I need to teach my son: not everyone deserves kindness. Some people care more about a tidy vegetable patch.

I managed to get my mother-in-law back on her feet. But honestly, Im fuming because I didnt get around to...

З життя3 години ago

For Two Years, Maria Was Just the Carer for Her Mother-in-Law Maria Managed to Marry a Very Distinguished Gentleman: All Her Friends Were Jealous. Her Husband Owned His Own Business, a Gated Luxury Home, Several Cars and a Cottage in the Countryside, All by Thirty-Two. Maria, Having Just Graduated and Worked as a Teacher for a Year, Married Him That Summer. After the Wedding, Her Husband Said There Was No Need for His Wife to Work for Peanuts. He Asked Her to Stay Home and Prepare for Children, and Maria Did Not Object. The First Year of Marriage Felt Like a Fairy Tale: Maria and Her Husband Travelled, Creating Memories and Buying Expensive Things. Yet Maria Had Nowhere to Wear Her New Clothes—Her Friends Were Busy Working and Spending Weekends With Their Families. Her Husband Often Partied Without Ever Inviting Maria. Maria Was Bored. Unable to Have Children, Her Feelings for Her Husband Faded. After Finishing Her Household Tasks, She Roamed Room to Room, Wondering About Her Future. A Year Passed. Her Husband Was Rarely Home, Often Returning in the Evenings, Exhausted and Irritable, Claiming His Business Was Struggling. First, He Told His Wife to Spend Less. Then He Demanded She Account for Every Purchase and Expense, Calculating and Insisting They Could Live Just as Well for Half the Amount. Maria Grew Worried. She Wanted to Work, But Couldn’t Find a Teaching Position. She Decided to Enrol on a Course, But Then Her Mother-in-Law Fell Ill, and Maria Had to Take Care of Her for Two Years. Her Husband Moved His Mother In. Maria Did Everything, Caring for the Sick. Her Husband Came Home Even Less. When Her Mother-in-Law Passed Away, Her Husband Grew Even More Distant—Barely Speaking to Maria, Withdrawn, Spending Most of His Time at Work and Seldom Returning Home. Maria Couldn’t Understand What Had Happened Until She Visited Her Mother-in-Law’s Old Flat, Where She Hadn’t Been for Ages. Behind Closed Doors, She Heard a Child Crying. Surprised, Maria Rang the Bell. A Young Woman Opened the Door—Maria Learned Her Husband Had Started a Second Family Before His Mother’s Illness, and Then Installed Them in His Mother’s Flat. For Maria, It Was a Shock. She Realised She Couldn’t Save Her Marriage. She Left for Another City, to Her Aunt, Practically With Nothing but a Small Bag—Not Wanting Anything Reminding Her of Her Marriage or How Badly Her Life Had Turned Out…

For two years, Emily was nothing more than a nurse to his mother. Emily managed to marry a man who...

З життя3 години ago

My Husband Brought a Colleague to Our Christmas Eve Dinner—So I Asked Them Both to Leave

Where have you put the napkins? I told you to get the ones with the silver pattern; they match the...