My mom always controlled every part of my life. She chose my clothes, picked my friends, and even decided where I went to college. But when I finally found love and planned my wedding, she went too far. What she did to ruin my big day wasn’t just controlling—it was a betrayal I could never forget.
Jeez, it’s a long story, and I don’t even know where to begin. My mom raised me alone. My dad had gone off the radar even before I was born. I never knew him, not even through a story or a photo.
Whenever I asked, my mom would say, “He wasn’t worth our time,” and that was that.
I wasn’t sure if my dad’s absence made my mom so controlling or if she had always been that way. Either way, I grew up feeling smothered by a hyper-controlling mother hen. When I was little, it felt normal.
She picked my clothes, chose my friends, and decided my hobbies. “You’ll thank me one day,” she’d say with a firm nod.
But as I got older, I realized my life wasn’t like other kids’. They had freedom, sleepovers, and choices. I wanted that too. But I wanted my mom to be happy even more. She often said, “All my happiness is in you,” and I believed it.
When I applied to college, my dream was New York University. I wanted a fresh start, a new beginning. But one day, I came home, and my mom told me I hadn’t gotten in.
I was crushed. She hugged me as I cried, whispering, “It’s okay. You’re still my girl.”
I ended up at the local university, living at home. But one evening, while cleaning, I found an opened letter behind the closet. My hands shook as I read it. I had gotten into New York University. My dreams had been real, and my mom had hidden them from me.
I waited for her to come back from work. I stood right at the front door, gripping the letter so hard my knuckles turned white. The crumpled envelope trembled in my hand.
As soon as she walked in, I stepped forward. “What is this?!” I demanded, holding the letter up.
Her eyes widened. “Where did you find that?!” she shouted. She lunged forward, her hands reaching for the letter. I jerked back, clutching it to my chest.
“You weren’t supposed to find that!” she screamed. Her voice bounced off the walls, sharp and panicked.
“Why did you do this?!” I yelled. “I could have been at New York University! I could have been living my dream!”
Tears streamed down her face. “Because you would have left me!” she cried. “You would have abandoned me! I would have been all alone.”
I stood frozen. My anger burned inside me, but her sobs pulled at my heart. She looked so small, so broken. I let out a shaky breath, stepped closer, and wrapped my arms around her. She clung to me, her tears soaking my shoulder.
I never left. I stayed living with my mom, burying my dreams to keep her happy.
The older I got, the harder it became to live with her. Her need to control everything suffocated me. I couldn’t take a step without her approval. She needed to know where I was, who I was with, and what I was doing at every moment. It became impossible to date anyone.
One night, I stayed over at my boyfriend’s place, ignoring her calls. At first, it felt freeing. I thought, “Maybe this is what normal feels like.” But then, the doorbell rang, and there stood the police.
My mom had reported that my boyfriend had kidnapped me. We spent hours explaining that nothing was wrong. I was humiliated.
After she ruined yet another date, I snapped. “Then find me someone who meets your standards!” I yelled.
And, shockingly, she did.
One evening, I came home from work and found a man sitting in our living room. His name was Colin. We started talking, and to my surprise, I liked him. He was kind and funny, and he wasn’t scared off by my mom.
After almost a year of dating, Colin planned a romantic dinner at my mom’s house. When I walked into the kitchen, I saw candles, flowers, and… my mom standing there with a camera.
Colin got down on one knee. “Elizabeth, will you marry me?”
“Yes, yes!” I screamed.
When the wedding preparations began, I didn’t have to think about anything. My mom took over everything. She picked the venue, the priest, the caterer—even my wedding dress. It felt like I was a guest at my own wedding.
Then, one evening, my mom said, “You know, after the wedding, we can turn my room into a nursery. I’ll live in the living room.”
Colin and I exchanged wide-eyed glances. “We actually planned to live at my place when we get married,” he said.
Her face turned red. “You’re going to leave me alone?! After everything I’ve done for you?”
“I’ll visit you, Mom. We’re not moving to another city,” I said softly.
She stormed off, slamming her bedroom door. And then, my mom got sick. Her face grew pale, and dark circles appeared under her eyes. She coughed often, clutching her chest. Colin and I had no choice but to cancel the wedding.
All our savings went toward her treatment. My life became a cycle of work, caregiving, and worry. Colin and I barely saw each other. Our love was slipping away.
One evening, I decided to find a new doctor. Dr. Green ran tests and stepped into the waiting room.
“Your mom is completely healthy,” he said. “She’s healthier than I am.”
On the way home, I was silent. My mom sighed and groaned, clutching her chest in fake pain.
As soon as we walked through the door, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Why are you pretending to be sick?” I asked.
“I’m not pretending!” she shouted.
“Liar. Dr. Green said you’re fine. I spent thousands on your ‘treatment.’ I canceled my wedding. Where did all the money go?”
“It’s in my account, okay?!” she yelled. “Because you would have left me!”
I took a deep breath. “You know what? I’ve had enough. I can’t take this anymore. It’s time for me to live my own life.”
Her head snapped up. “What are you going to do?!” she shouted.
I grabbed my phone and texted Colin. Can you come and get me? I need to leave.
When Colin arrived, I opened the door. Together, we walked past my mom. She pleaded, then screamed insults, but I didn’t stop.
In the car, I took a deep breath. My chest felt tight, but at least I could breathe.
“This is for the best,” Colin said, taking my hand.
“Yes, I know,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
I wasn’t sure if I would cut ties with her forever. But I knew I needed peace. It was time to live my own life and make my own choices.
