“Boundaries” by Lumina Miller

I’ve been told many times that a peaceful way to handle conflict with difficult people is to set up boundaries. Carve out space that protects the peace in our lives. At what point is it acceptable to become vocal with someone that behaves terribly?

When I met my husband, he was a divorced man with shared custody of two daughters. They were both receptive until his ex-wife disapproved of him introducing them to me after six months of dating. Then the oldest began treating me like I was inferior. She was thirteen and I shrugged it off.

We got engaged a little over a year after meeting and moved in together.  My relationship with his oldest didn’t improve but I was hopeful. My husband’s mom was domineering and talked non-stop, often interrupting after asking me a question. She never let me say more than a sentence. Family functions with the soon to be in-laws were alienating. I barely spoke and my husband’s mom and oldest daughter were dismissive.

At our rehearsal dinner, planned by my mother-in-law, she stood up to give a toast with a microphone. She called me by his ex-wife’s name twice, only stopping when my mom grabbed her arm. You could hear my mom saying “that’s not my daughter’s name” repeatedly. My mother-in-law finished up her welcome speech and then came over to where we were sitting and said, “I hope we can move on and have a good night.” She didn’t make eye-contact with me and then walked away and continued to drink and laugh and enjoy her evening.

My mom pulled me aside and said “If you marry into this family, you’re going to have a lifetime of disappointment. She has no remorse for what she just did and doesn’t see you as a person. I know it’s dramatic but I don’t think you should go through with this.”

I left the venue and walked around with my maid of honor and husband to talk about it. My husband and I were very much in love. I decided that I wasn’t going to let other people into our relationship.

It’s been seven years since we got married, we had some fertility struggles, and five months ago had a healthy baby girl. We didn’t tell his daughters or his family about our journey to parenthood, we told them when I was six months pregnant. I didn’t want to share something so personal with people who disregard me.

I had the baby, was beyond elated that she was healthy and mine. On the night we got home from the hospital we facetimed with his parents and his mom dominated the conversation, interrupting and giving unwanted advice. Then she said that my daughter looked like his oldest. For years she has said that his oldest looks just like his ex’s sister. My face caught on fire and I wanted to scream. Again, she took a monumental moment and put his past into my present. My daughter has a different mom and looks like me. I didn’t say anything and sat quietly until we got off the phone. My husband apologized and said “I’m sorry. She’s difficult, that’s just how she is.”

Four days later his parents came to the house. His mom sat in our living room telling the same stories she tells every time we see her and not giving anyone else a chance to speak. I felt furious watching her hold the most precious thing I’ve ever had. I walked upstairs and tried to do deep breathing exercises—then left the house and went for a drive. At this point it had been six days since I’d given birth. I was sleep deprived, pre-eclamptic, and had a tear that seared. Upon returning to the house, it was like I wasn’t there. Watching them hold my daughter and ignore me ignited the kindling I had quelled for nearly a decade. I waited until my mother-in-law was no longer holding the baby and told her, “You’re a lot on a good day. I can’t do this today. I’ve been uncomfortable around you for years. There’s a lot of judgement and disapproval. You’re making my blood pressure go through the roof.” At this she got up and walked away from me quickly. I took my daughter and headed upstairs to nurse. My husband came upstairs and was upset with me for yelling at his mom.

I was shocked that he was telling his pre-eclamptic wife that had delivered less than a week ago to calm down. He is in his forties and his mom is in her seventies. It is not out of line to expect to be a priority over his mother.  

Two weeks after letting my mother-in-law know my true feelings, we received a package in the mail from her sister. A baby blanket from her brother who died when he was two days old. The blanket was from 1959. No new mom wants to think about fetal demise. My husband had two babies prior to my daughter. Why didn’t he get the blanket previously?  I had my husband get the blanket out of the house and tried to stop thinking about it. I began having vivid nightmares when I did sleep. A woman would stand at the foot of my bed saying that she had Mazzy for me, holding a lifeless baby in the blanket. Mazzy was the name I had given the baby I miscarried before delivering my daughter.

Again, my husband minimized the incident. He thought that it was weird but failed to see how I could be so shaken by receiving the blanket of a child that died. I began seeing a therapist before getting pregnant and started leaning on them a lot. My mother-in-law continued to text me and send out group messages like nothing had happened. I felt like my stepdaughters were spying on me and telling their grandmother things. I felt so uneasy and it was all exacerbated by the lack of sleep of being a new mom. I blocked mother-in-law from my cell phone to shut down daily interruptions from her. She then began blowing up my husband and insisting that she come over again to see her new grandchild. I was now 3 ½ weeks postpartum and fighting with my husband because I wanted to have space to learn to breastfeed, bond with my child and feel comfortable in the home I pay half of the bills for.

I wrote her an email laying out why she makes me uncomfortable and how difficult she is to be around. I was brutally honest. She backed off from my husband a bit. We went to my in-laws after Christmas to celebrate the holiday. The whole group treated me like a ghost. They passed my daughter around and my mother-in-law and sister-in-law gave me candles on how to erase hate from my heart, a soul cleansing candle and soul cleansing body wash. My husband didn’t see it as a play. He said it’s just a scent. Smells like bullshit to me.

Which brings me back to the initial question of when to hold your tongue for the sake of being well mannered and when to speak up? If I had been more vocal years ago, maybe the situation would be better. I had no relationship with my husband’s mom—I went to dances in high school with boys whose moms were more interested in me than she’s ever been. It would’ve been very awkward to attempt a heart to heart.

Everyone deserves to feel respected and at ease in their own home. Standing up for myself and trying to get some peace as a post-partum woman was the right thing to do. It has brought to light that even in 2023 women are expected to be polite and well behaved no matter what in a lot of circles. It didn’t matter to my in-laws that I had medical issues and some post-partum depression. I was supposed to continue to be a cardboard cutout of a human and silently submit to whatever my mother-in-law desired. I wish that my husband was more supportive of me and could make me feel fortified at a vulnerable time. Part of me wishes we had called off the wedding and that I would’ve spent the last decade free of turmoil from a past that isn’t mine. But then, I wouldn’t have my little lively bird. She and I will have a good life, with or without him. I’ll teach her that everyone deserves to be heard and that we’re not better than anyone. I’ll tell her over and over that equality is more important than etiquette.

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