Did you know I am evil? A terrible, wicked woman? Out to ruin and corrupt the lives of men? I did not know this either, but this is exactly what my former mother-in-law firmly believed of me. I was nineteen turning twenty and new to the city when I first started dating my former husband. I had joined a dating service so I could meet new people and try to get out of the house. A blind date, we met, played pool, and agreed to a second date.

He was nice enough, smart, funny, and kind of witty. Not my ‘usual’ type, he had short hair, dressed in Mondetta and loafers, and he was a year younger. We seemed to have things in common, so I looked forward to getting to know him and our second date.

While I had a vehicle, I had not brought it with me to the city. I lived in an area where I could walk everywhere I needed to go. The community I was in was walkable, he could take the bus to come see me, as he’d recently written off his car in an accident. After our third or fourth date, he asked about my truck and whether I could bring it into the city. I remember sort of laughing and telling him I didn’t need the truck, but he persisted.

Sometimes we do not see the obvious.

The first time I went to go pick him up, he told me to just ‘wait out front’ for him (he lived in an apartment with his parents). While I found this a little odd, as he’d met my Mom, I respected his wishes and waited out front his building. This was back before cell phones were common, so I was unable to call him and let him know I was there. My only option was to wait, ring the buzzer, or leave. While I am not sure exactly how much time passed, I know it was at least forty minutes. My patience was thinning.

As I sat, debating what to do, a woman emerged from the front door and came up the sidewalk yelling. I could not understand her, but it was pretty clear, it was directed at me, the reason, unknown. Hot on her heels, the guy I was dating. He too, was yelling, at her. Telling her to shut up and calling her some terrible names. Behind him, a man, telling them both to stop.

What I did understand was a threat to call the police if I didn’t leave immediately. I started my truck and put it in gear. My friend opened the door, got in, and told me to drive. His mother shaking her fist, swore more at the both of us as I drove away. I looked at him and said, “What the hell was that all about?”

And that was my introduction to the woman who would become my future ex-mother-in-law. M was a special brand of woman, she was from Wales, and while she’d been in Canada for 18 years, when she got angry, her accent was thick as pea soup, and you could hardly understand her. No one was good enough for her son. M had gone through extraordinary lengths to conceive him (old school, Welsh old wives tale type stuff involving the consumption of jellied eels). I could have been the Queen’s granddaughters and she would have had an issue with me.

Over the course of the next year, anytime I tried to park near their apartment building, she’d threaten me. To call the police and have me towed. I did not realize (at the time) that she could not actually do that as it was a public street and even though she was the building manager, I was breaking no laws by parking there. My boyfriend would make me wait upwards of an hour or more for him, and blindly, I waited. If it wasn’t the threat of the police, she’d spew hateful and hurtful comments about my person or tell me how her son told her that he didn’t really like me, he was just using me. I was only temporary to him All things my then boyfriend assured me were lies.

Sometimes we do not see the obvious.

When we were together, he made me feel like he was on my side and that his mother was crazy. Of course he’d choose my side! M would phone my house looking for him and would yell at me. I never dare call him, because she would launch into an attack. One October afternoon, if I recall correctly, my mother tried calling their home looking for me, knowing I had been there. My good friend from school had called – her father had passed away. Knowing I’d want to be in touch with her right away, my Mom was trying to track me down. M tore into my mother! Her cruelty seemed to have no limits.

After dating for over a year, we decided to move in together. On moving day, the time came to go to his house to pick up his stuff. I think my brother went to pick up his stuff while my sister and I were unpacking at the apartment. I found out several months later, my boyfriend did not tell his mom and dad he was moving out until late in the afternoon on moving day! His mother spent the last couple hours packing his clothes and scrounging up a few things for us to take, including the hide-a-bed we ended up sleeping on!

I often blamed her for what went wrong in my relationship, but upon reflection, I think he was even more responsible. M may not have been able to let go, but he wouldn’t let her. I wasn’t seeing what was obvious.

Throughout, I always kept my composure with her and never rose to her bait. I didn’t yell back, swear at her, or use cruel tones. I knew I would marry her son one day, and likely give her grandchildren. I did not want bad blood between us. So even when she referred to me as the “colonial”, said I was not their choice for a partner for their son, and still thought I was a terrible person, I just smiled. M created budgets with my husband, told me I did laundry wrong, treated her son wrong, and doled out my ‘allowance’ of $5 per month, I still just went along for the ride. I didn’t want to fail at being married. I got into this in good faith and forever. For me, it was not a temporary arrangement.

The control M had on our lives was rigid, she knew more about our finances than I did. “We” bought a car – meaning I bought it because he could not be insured on it because of the prior collision. I even had to sign an exclusions on my policy that he would not drive it. His parents co-signed the loan (as it was more than I could afford, but it also gave them control). The only thing I controlled in the marriage was our menu plan. I planned it meticulously so I felt I had some control in my own life. It all “worked” because I wanted it to, so desperately.

Until about ten months into our marriage when I realized I did not like being married to my mother-in-law! My father-in-law told us before the wedding to remember that we were marrying one another, not the other’s family! But he was wrong. There were two people in my marriage.

But I was not one of them. I decided that perhaps they’d be happier without me in the way. So, I left. Last I heard, they replaced me with a much more compliant model! She wasn’t well liked by my ex-mother-in-law either, but she lets M run the show. In retrospect, I was glad he found his version of happily-ever-after.