Your mum froze in the doorway, almost dropping the cake shed just taken out of the oven. She gave you that look that says youve done something wrong, even if you havent.
Mum, whats that about? you asked, setting the cake on the kitchen table. What does it have to do with Mike?
She snapped, Hes already in Year7 and still at a regular secondary school! No special tracks, no enrichment programmes. How on earth is he supposed to get into a decent university? How will he ever achieve anything?
You bit your lip. The argument was the same old script, and a hot sting of injustice rose in your chest.
Mum, Mike does well. Hes getting mostly As. Hes got a maths tutor and wants to go into programming, just like Dad, you said.
Thats exactly it! she flared, waving her hands. Programming sitting in front of a computer like Sam. Thats a dull job and a modest salary. And you? A teacher, a tutor youre scraping together pennies. Are you even feeding your child properly?
Your fists clenched. Her words hit the tender spots. Sure, you and Sam werent rolling in money; you had to watch the budget. But Mike was growing up happy.
Were fine, Mum. And Mikes happy.
MerryChristmas for you! she scoffed, moving to the window. Victors son, though, is a real treasure. Andy is at a school that teaches English intensively from the first year. He speaks it fluently already. Victor and Lucy are brilliant theyre splashing the cash, investing in their kid.
You listened in silence. Your brother had always been the golden child. Hed opened a small business, bought a bigger flat, and his wife Lucy didnt work, staying at home with their son. Mum never missed a chance to compare.
Andys a gifted boy, she went on, softer now. Hell turn out something great. Victor says theyll send him abroad for a language course at thirteen. Thats proper planning, not the ordinary school youre stuck with.
You stepped closer; her shoulders were tense, her face hard.
Mum, I get that you want grandkids to succeed, but Mike isnt worse than Andy. They just have different paths.
Different paths! she snapped. One leads up to success, the other stagnates in gloom and poverty. Is that what you want for your son? To live in want?
Something tightened inside you.
Mum, were not poor. We live within our means. Mike will grow into a good man smart, kind, hardworking.
Hardworking isnt enough these days, love, she huffed. You need connections, money, a prestigious education. What does Mike have? A regular school and a mum whos barely keeping the lights on.
You turned away. The cake, adorned with berries and baked with love, now seemed pointless.
Mum, Im not looking to argue. Well raise our son the way we think is right, and hes happy.
The future is what matters! she leaned in. Youre ruining him with your carelessness. Victor gets it. He does everything so Andy becomes someone important. You just drift along.
You shook your head. Arguing felt pointless; she was set in her ways.
Fine, Mum. Lets just have lunch. Sam and Mike will be here soon.
As expected, lunch was tense. Mum gushed about Andys achievements, Victors pride spilling over. Mike ate quietly, glancing at Mum. You forced a smile, trying to keep the peace.
After that, you realised youd have to limit visits with Mum. Her endless comparisons were just too painful. You still called her and Victor on holidays, but you stopped arranging family gettogether after that. Mum took it badly, but you held firm you had to shield Mike from the negativity.
Years went by. Mike kept coding, growing into his own. You heard occasional updates about Victors side. Andy graduated with a gold medal, got into a topranked university thanks in part to his dads contacts.
Mike finished school too, got a place at a reputable technical college on a scholarship, passed his exams honestly. By his third year he was working at a modest IT firm. You were proud, Sam was proud, but Mum still only talked about Andy.
A few more years slipped by. The kids were approaching thirty. For Mums birthday, the whole family gathered. Victor and Lucy turned up, and Andy arrived tall, goodlooking, with a messy haircut. Hed quit his first job to chase a music career, started a band, and Victor poured money into equipment. Two years later the band still hadnt struck it big; Andy was living at home, not earning.
You watched Mum beam at Andy, hugging him, patting his head, asking about his gigs. He replied lazily, scrolling on his phone. Mum didnt see the indifference; to her, Andy was still the golden grandson.
Mike sat beside his wife, Emma, who was four months pregnant. Hed landed a solid role at a large tech company, earned a good salary, rented a flat and was saving for a house. Yet Mum barely seemed to notice.
You saw Sam tense, jaw clenched, Emma looking worried, but Mike kept smiling, rubbing her hand. Evening stretched on. Mum kept bragging about Andys future stardom. Andy gave a halfhearted nod. You stayed quiet.
When the night finally wound down, Sam, Mike and Emma were the first to leave, saying theyd wait by the car. You were pulling a scarf over the back of the hall coat rack when Mum came over.
Emma, hold on a sec. I need to tell you something, she said, low but serious.
You froze. She spoke softly, but it cut deep.
Your Mike is dull, Emma. Grey, ordinary just like you and Sam. No spark. Andy, on the other hand, is a genius, a rising star. Hell prove it to everyone. Your son just works, gets married, will have a baby. Nothing special. Hes just another face in the crowd.
You stared at Mum, feeling something shatter inside.
You breathed out slowly, met her eyes.
Mum, Ive thought about this for ages. I assumed you wanted me to be a better mother, to push Mike harder, to invest more. I thought your criticism came from a good place, trying to motivate me.
She frowned, but you raised a hand.
Turns out it was simpler. You never loved my son. All those comparisons, the praise for Andy, the constant putdowns you just wanted me to see that, in your eyes, my boy wasnt good enough.
Mums face went pale. You buttoned your coat calmly.
But you know what? My son is the best. Smart, kind, hardworking, decent. Hes turned into a wonderful man. Hell soon be a dad and will be an amazing father because I never let him hear that you see him as an unwanted grandchild. I protected him from your poison, Mum. I made sure he grew up happy.
Mum stared, eyes wide open. You grabbed your bag.
Your opinions about me, Sam and our son can stay with you. Im done listening. I spent too many years trying to prove we deserved your love. No more. Live your life, love who you want. Im washing my hands of this game. Ill soon have a grandchild, and Ill love him the way a grandmother should.
You walked out, closed the flat door behind you, headed down to the car where Sam, Mike and Emma were waiting. Sam gave you a hug, Mike grinned. You slipped into the passenger seat, leaned back, and felt a strange, unfamiliar calm settle over you like a weight had finally lifted. No more pretending, no more trying to prove anything.
It took years, but you finally freed yourself from Mums judgment. You have what truly matters now a real family. And honestly, what more could anyone ask for?
