23October2025 Diary
My motherinlaw, Eleanor, stood in the doorway, almost letting the spongecake tumble from my hands. She glared at me as if Id committed some grave offence.
Mother, what are you on about? I placed the cake on the kitchen table. What does Michael have to do with it?
Its the fact that hes already in Year7 and still at a ordinary secondary school! she snapped, raising her voice. No specialist tracks, no advanced programmes. How on earth will he get into a respectable university? How will he ever achieve anything?
I bit my lip. The argument fell into the same old pattern, and a hot sting of injustice flared in my chest.
Mother, Michael does well. He gets As in most subjects, has a maths tutor, and wants to go into programming just like me. I tried to keep my tone even.
Thats exactly the point! she flailed her arms. Programming! Sitting behind a computer like your brother Simon. A plain job, a plain salary. And you? A teacher! A tutor! You scrape by on pennies. Do you even feed your child properly?
Her words struck every tender spot. Yes, Simon and I never lived in luxury; we had to count every pound. Yet Michael grew up happy.
Everything is fine here. Michael is happy.
Happy? Eleanor scoffed, moving to the window. Victors son, Anthony, is a proper treasure. Hes at a grammar school with an intensive English programme from the first year. He talks fluently already. Victor and his wife Lucy spare no expense for their child.
I listened in silence. Victor had always been the golden child. Hed started his own small firm, bought a larger flat, and Lucy stayed at home to look after the house and their son. Eleanor never missed a chance to set them against my family.
Anthony is a brilliant lad, she continued, warm now. Hell definitely make something of himself. Victor says they plan to send him abroad for language courses at thirteen. Thats true foresight, not the ordinary school youre stuck with.
I stepped closer. Her shoulders were stiff, her face severe.
Mother, I know you want grandchildren to succeed, but Michael isnt worse than Anthony. Theyre just on different paths.
Different paths! she snapped, turning sharply. One leads up to success, the other drifts in drudgery and poverty. Is that what you want for your son? To live in want?
Something knotted inside me.
Were not poor. We live within our means. Michael will grow into a good mansmart, kind, hardworking.
Hardworking! Eleanor sneered. Thats not enough these days, dear. You need connections, money, a prestigious education. What does Michael have? An ordinary school and a motherteacher who can barely stretch the budget.
I turned away. The berrytopped cake Id baked with love now seemed pointless.
Mother, I dont want to argue. We raise our son the way we think best, and hes content.
The future is what matters! she pressed, coming nearer. Youre ruining him with your carelessness. Victor understands. He does everything to make Anthony a person of note. Youre just drifting.
I shook my head. Arguing was futile; Eleanor was set in her ways.
Fine, Mother. Lets just have lunch. Simon and Michael will be here soon.
As expected, the meal was tense. Eleanor waxed lyrical about Anthonys achievements, Victors pride, while Michael ate quietly, stealing glances at his grandmother. I forced a smile, hoping to keep the peace.
Afterward I decided to limit contact with Eleanor. The constant comparisons were too painful. I still rang her and Victor on holidays, but I stopped arranging family gatherings. Eleanor sulked, yet I held firm; I had to shield Michael from her negativity.
Years passed. Michael kept up with programming, while I heard occasional updates about Victors son. Anthony graduated with a gold medal, entered a prestigious university thanks in part to his fathers connections.
Michael also finished school, earned a place on a funded technical degree without any favouritism, passed his exams honestly, and by his third year was working at a modest IT firm. Simon was proud; Eleanor, however, never stopped talking about Anthony.
A few more years went by, and the children neared thirty. For Eleanors birthday, the whole family gathered. Victor and Lucy arrived, as did Anthonytall, handsome, with a careless haircut. Hed left his job shortly after university, claiming he wanted to pursue music, forming a band. Victor had poured money into equipment. Two years later the band was still unknown; Anthony lived rentfree with his parents, not earning a penny.
Eleanor beamed at Anthony, cradling his head, peppering him with questions about gigs. He yawned, scrolled his phone, and gave vague answers. She saw only a golden grandson.
Michael sat beside his wife Emily, now four months pregnant. He worked for a large tech company, earned a solid salary, rented a flat, and was saving for a house. Yet Eleanor barely glanced at him.
I saw Simon tense, jaw clenched, as Emily worriedly watched her husband. Michael, however, smiled and gently stroked Emilys hand. The evening dragged on as Eleanor praised Anthonys future fame. He gave a halfinterested nod; I remained silent.
When the night finally wound down, Simon, Michael, and Emily left first, saying theyd wait by the car. I was tying a scarf in the hallway when Eleanor approached.
Emily, wait a moment. I need to tell you something.
She froze. Eleanors voice dropped, serious.
Your Michael is so dull, Emily. Grey, ordinaryjust like you and Simon. No spark at all. Anthony, on the other hand, is a genius, a star. Hell show everyone his brilliance. Michael just lives, works, gets married, soon has a child. Theres nothing remarkable about that. Hes just another face in the crowd.
I stared at my motherinlaw, feeling something inside shatter.
I exhaled slowly and met her gaze.
Mother, Ive thought about this for a long time. I thought you wanted me to be a better mother, to push harder for Michael, to invest more in him. I believed your criticism came from a good place, to spur me on.
She frowned, but I raised my hand.
But the truth is simpler. You never loved my son. All those years you showed it through endless comparisons, through praise of Anthony, through subtle disdain. You didnt want him to thrive; you just wanted me to feel that he wasnt good enough.
Eleanors face went pale. I buttoned my coat calmly.
Yet you know what? My son is the best. Intelligent, kind, diligent, decent. Hes grown into a fine man, soon to be a father, and will be a wonderful dad. I protected him from your poison, Mother. I made sure he grew up happy.
She stared, eyes wide, as I gathered my bag.
Your opinions about me, Simon, and our son can stay with you. Im not interested any longer. I spent too many years trying to earn your love, and Im done. Live as you wish, love whomever you like. Im washing my hands of this game. My own grandson is on the way, and Ill love him as any grandmother should.
I left the flat, closed the door behind me, and descended to the car where Simon, Michael, and Emily waited. Simon embraced me, Michael grinned. I sank into the passenger seat, feeling an odd, unfamiliar calm, as if a heavy stone had finally lifted from my shoulders. No more pretending, no more shaping myself to meet someone elses expectations, no more proving anything.
It took years, but at last I am free from the need for my motherinlaws approval. I have what truly matters: a real family, love, and a future I choose. The lesson I carry forward is simpleyour worth is not defined by the applause of others, but by the integrity you hold for yourself and those you love.
