At 37, I thought I was finally ready to date in peace. No more worrying about the little things. I was an adult, with my own life, my own career, and even my own apartment. But then, my mom swooped in and ruined everything, not only showing up uninvited for dinner but also somehow ending up on a date with my boyfriend.
I’ve always known I had a mom. But sometimes, it felt like she was my whole world. Every day, without fail, she would call me and ask things like, “Did you wear warm socks today?” or “Are you sure he looked at you with respect and not… interest?”
I worked in a museum, adored art history, lived on my own, had a decent job, and two degrees to my name. Yet, when I saw her name pop up on my phone, I’d still straighten up like a little kid.
She controlled everything. From when I should go to bed to what color my nails should be. I remember one time I ordered a salmon dinner delivery, and just twenty minutes later, my phone rang.
“I saw him go into your house. Was that him?” she asked.
“Mom, are you spying on me?” I asked, completely exasperated.
“I was just sitting in the car nearby,” she said, nonchalantly. “In case of suspicious movement.”
She had binoculars. And a notebook. She called it “just in case.”
As a kid, it was kind of cute. But by 20, it was just annoying. By the time I turned 30, I began to question whether this was “normal.”
Then, at 37, I met Theo.
For the first time ever, I kept it to myself. It was my first grown-up secret. I even felt proud of myself… but that lasted about three days. Because, of course, Mom ruined everything. But I’ll tell you about that in a bit.
I was getting ready for dinner with Theo. I baked a pie, not from Mom’s sacred recipe book. And yeah, it came out a bit burnt and the chicken was a little dry, but those were my mistakes. My life.
I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I imagined my mother’s reaction if she saw this. It would definitely cause an explosion.
A week earlier, she had declared, “I want to meet him. In person. At my house. At the table. With my questions.”
“Mom, let me be an adult for once. I’ll decide when to introduce you,” I had told her.
For once, she backed off. It was odd, but I didn’t think much of it. Big mistake.
That night, Theo came over for the first time. He brought tulips, non-alcoholic wine—because he knew I’d be tired after work—and a cake from my favorite bakery.
“I just wanted to get everything right,” he said, smiling as he set the plates down.
I smiled back, feeling something warm inside. “With you, Theo, everything always feels right.”
We talked for hours, laughed, and dreamed together.
“Imagine… a little house by an old lighthouse,” he said, his eyes sparkling.
“And in the basement,” I added, “an archive of old love letters.”
“You’d preserve them,” he said, “and I’d write new ones.”
Candles flickered softly around us. The music hummed in the background. He gently touched my hand.
“I thought after all the heartbreaks, nothing would ever happen again,” he said softly. “And then you came along…”
And just as we were about to kiss…
“ACHOO!”
We froze. The sound came from the closet.
Theo turned to me with wide eyes. “You’re not alone?”
I stood up, walked over to the closet, and opened the door.
“Mooom?!” I gasped.
There she was, sitting in the dark, wearing a headlamp, and holding a thermos.
“What… what are you doing?!” I asked, horrified.
“Oh, hi!” she said cheerfully, “I was just checking to see if you were storing things in your closet… without lavender.”
“You broke into my apartment?!” I exclaimed.
“I was just making sure. Listening. Evaluating. I didn’t interfere!” she said, as if this was perfectly normal.
Somehow, Theo managed to smile politely. “Good evening. I’m Theo. Very nice to meet you.”
“Theo? Short. Like most male patients,” Mom said, sitting down on the couch. “Sit. Let’s get to know each other.”
I wanted to run away, but somehow, Theo sat down, brave as ever. And then, the interrogation began.
“Do you have a job?” she asked.
“Yes, I teach literature,” Theo replied, clearly trying to stay calm.
“Do you work 9 to 5?” she pressed.
“I have flexible hours,” Theo said, a little uncertain.
“So, no structure,” she muttered. “Got it. Do you drink alcohol?”
“A glass of wine, sometimes…” Theo said, looking at me nervously.
“Sometimes means regularly,” Mom interrupted.
“Mom…”
“Quiet, Eliza. I’m asking.”
Then she leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing. “How many women before my daughter?”
“I… excuse me?” Theo stammered.
“Are you deaf?” she shot back.
“No, I just think that’s a bit…” Theo faltered.
“You should always think before approaching a woman with serious intentions,” Mom said, nodding sagely.
Theo glanced at me, his eyes wide as if asking, Is this for real?
I tried to communicate with my eyes, but there was no escaping it. This was my life.
“Now,” Mom stood up, “a test.”
“What?” Theo and I both said, confused.
“Wipe the table with a sponge. No streaks. If there’s even one mark, you’re not for her.”
I was about to lose it. “Mom, enough!”
But to my complete surprise, Theo stood up, walked to the kitchen, found the sponge, and wiped down the table. It was perfect. Mom checked it over, running her finger across the surface.
“Hmmm. Survived. For now.”
Then, Mom dramatically handed Theo a paper, and he started reading. But as he looked over it, his face slowly fell. He handed it to me.
“I think I should go,” Theo said quietly. “I’ll call you.”
And just like that, he left. I stared at the paper, my heart sinking.
It was a list. In thick black marker.
RULES FOR DATING MY DAUGHTER
- Have a job.
- Understand I don’t like you.
- I am EVERYWHERE.
- You make HER cry — I make YOU cry.
- Be home 30 minutes early.
- SHE is my PRINCESS. Not your conquest.
- I don’t mind going to jail.
And at the bottom… “Daugter,” with a typo. That said it all.
I was fuming. “Mom, it’s time for you to go.”
“Oh, sweetie,” she said, “if he leaves at the first sign of trouble, is he even a man?”
“He didn’t leave me,” I said, frustrated. “He said he’d call.”
“Same thing,” she replied. “Maybe he just didn’t enjoy being around you.”
“You crossed the line, Mom! Please, leave. I want to be alone.”
She didn’t leave right away, but eventually, she did.
And for the next three days, there was nothing. No texts. No calls. I couldn’t take it anymore. I sent him a short message:
“I’m sorry for how everything went. You didn’t deserve that.”
He read it. No reply.
But then, there was a knock on my door. My heart skipped a beat. I opened it to find Theo standing there, holding flowers.
“Come on,” he said, “I’ve planned a date… for you and your Mom.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Just trust me,” he smiled.
We picked up my mom, and she barely got in the car before starting her usual commentary.
“Where are we going? I have to defrost the freezer!”
“Surprise,” Theo said, his smile never fading.
The first stop? His lecture.
Mom and I sat in the back of the classroom while Theo stood in front of a class full of students, talking about love in literature.
“To be with someone doesn’t always feel poetic,” he said. “But it’s always worth it.”
“Oh, I might fall asleep here,” Mom whispered.
“Mom! Shhh.”
“If he’s trying to seduce us both with lectures,” she muttered, “he’s failing.”
I gave her a warning look, but I had a feeling this wasn’t all Theo had planned.
Next stop: a boat ride on the lake, with a plaid blanket, strawberries, and tea. And not just any tea—he remembered the kind my mom loved.
“Yet another romantic coma,” Mom grumbled, but this time, I caught a hint of a smile. She was warming up.
Theo turned to her gently. “So, Barbara. What are your hobbies?”
“Hobbies?” she raised an eyebrow. “Suspicion. Avoiding scams. Crosswords when I can’t sleep.”
“I bet you’re good at them,” Theo said.
“I once found three typos in The New York Times,” she said proudly. “Sent them a letter. And you didn’t even find one.”
“You planted that typo?” Theo laughed.
“Of course, sweetie. It was a test for you,” she smirked.
“A test? For spelling?” I exclaimed.
“No, more like a test for politeness,” she winked. “You passed.”
And then, she leaned a little too far forward, and before we knew it…
SPLASH!
She fell right into the water.
“YOU LAUGHING?” she shouted, dripping wet. “I COULD DROWN!”
Without a second thought, Theo jumped in and pulled her out, wrapping her in a blanket.
“Mom, are you okay?” I asked, barely holding back my laughter.
She was furious, shivering, but I could tell there was a small part of her that was secretly touched.
Back on shore, she was about to storm off.
“I need to go home. I’m done.”
Theo remained calm. “There’s a sports store nearby. Time for a wardrobe refresh.”
He returned ten minutes later with two matching athletic outfits. One for me. One for Mom.
“How did you guess my size?” she asked, eyeing it suspiciously.
“Easy. You’re built perfectly for a Medium. Athletic and classic.”
She smiled—just a little. Quietly. But it was there. She loved attention.
We changed. And then, the final challenge: the climbing wall.
“Last one, I promise,” Theo said with a grin. “Climbing wall. One climbs, the other keeps the rope. Trust exercise.”
“Oh no. I’m 60!” Mom protested.
But to my utter disbelief, she went first. Halfway up, she yelled:
“THEO! IF I FALL, I’M HAUNTING YOU!”
She didn’t fall. She made it to the top. When she came down, her eyes were shining with pride.
“Okay, professor. Not bad.”
Theo grinned, clearly relieved.
“To end the day,” he said, “I’d like to make you both dinner. My place.”
Mom raised an eyebrow. “I have no choice. I need to see where this man lives. Maybe I’ll discover his secret lair.”
Theo’s house was beautiful. Clean, warm, and smelled like citrus and cedar. I was stunned.
“Did you buy this on a teacher’s salary or rob a bank?” Mom asked as she peeked into the kitchen.
“I started saving in high school. Plus, I teach online courses on the side. Hard work pays off,” Theo replied.
“Look at you,” she muttered, impressed. “Does the fridge clean itself, or are you just this weird?”
Theo laughed, clearly enjoying this.
We sat on the terrace as Theo grilled steaks. The sun dipped low, and Mom finally seemed to relax.
“You know,” she said, “he’s not so bad, honey.”
“Really? Wow. Mom, you’re on fire today,” I teased.
“I was too distrustful. Because your father left. And I didn’t want you to get burned like I did.”
I smiled softly. “But Mom, it’s my life. I need to make my own mistakes. Walk my own path.”
“Theo is wonderful. It’s obvious he loves you. I mean, he jumped in a lake to save his future mother-in-law.”
We both laughed.
“And he could’ve dropped me on that climbing wall,” she added, “but he didn’t. That’s some nerve control.”
Theo came over, carrying two plates of food.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Always,” Mom replied, with a smile.
“And for dessert?” Theo asked.
Then, without warning, he knelt down on one knee.
“Eliza,” he said softly, “these past three months have been the best of my life. You’ve brought color back into everything. And your mom… well, we’re friends now.”
“Almost,” Mom corrected with a smirk.
“Not even the rule list could scare me away,” Theo continued. “I want to share my home, my life… all of it. And yes, even see your mom. But no more than twice a week,” he joked.
I gasped, heart racing. “Will you marry me?”
Mom nudged me. “Sweetheart, I would’ve said yes already.”
“Yes!” I cried, my voice shaking with emotion. “Of course — yes!”
Mom changed. She started Pilates, bought her first floral swimsuit, and our co-dependent loop finally broke. We were still family, but we had our own lives now.
Our coffee dates felt like chats between friends.
She told me about her fitness class, and I shared how Theo had forgotten to take out the trash and called it a “creative delay.”
I had finally become myself. And somehow, I think Mom had too.
