Having had a good relationship with my family, I had hoped to find a girl with a similar background. So when I met Mercy, I thought it was an answered prayer. Her closeness with her mother was clear straight off the bat. We met in a banking hallway. She wore this cute frown every time a teller left their workstation. The frustration was visible.
“In a hurry to leave?” I asked.
“Yes and no,” she said.
“No would come before yes, so let’s start with the no,” I said. She gave me a look that screamed “weirdo” but a man’s got to have a method while making decisions.
“No, because I don’t have plans after this. Yes, because I hate staying in the same position for long. Additionally, they should have better service for their clients,” she said with conviction.
After a bit of small talk, we decided to have lunch at a restaurant across the street. The mum called her twice during that first encounter. She had come to the bank for her mum. After the mum called the second time she said, “My mum again, give me a minute.”
“You must be close to your mum,” I said after the call.
“Yes, she is my best friend. She wants me to buy supplies for her.”
“Oh, you live at home?”
“No, but I’m there every so often,” she responded.
Not surprisingly, she told her mother about us almost immediately. Within three months of dating, she told me her family wanted to meet me. I wasn’t fully opposed to meeting them; I just felt it was too soon. However, I figured different families have different ways of handling issues so I obliged.
I went for lunch at her parent’s home. Her three sisters were home as well. They were kind to me, I felt like it went very well. Later she would tell me that her mother approved of me.
I was glad that her family liked me but it also put pressure on me to introduce her to my family. I wasn’t in the habit of introducing all my girlfriends to my family. It didn’t mean that I wasn’t serious about her; I just didn’t feel like I was ready for that step. I tried to explain this to her but she didn’t understand my reasoning. She had met my siblings and I felt that was enough at the time. Severally she would mention that her mother was asking whether I had taken her to meet my parents yet.
After seven months of dating, I finally decided to take her home. Mercy was a likeable person so it didn’t surprise me that my mother took to her immediately. My mother’s approval of her gave me the confidence to take our relationship to the next level. I proposed a month later.
I decided to ask for her parents’ blessing before popping the question. Her father appreciated the respect. The mother was elated but she also had strong suggestions about how to go about the proposal. It felt like she was crossing a boundary but I told myself that given the close relationship with her daughter, she probably knew exactly what Mercy would like. I took most of the suggestions.
After the engagement, Mercy and I started making plans for our future. We would move in together after the wedding so we needed to look for a house. We decided we would move into a one-bedroom apartment in a decent but affordable area so that we could save more. We were in agreement until she went home for the weekend. She came back with other ideas.
“You know I was discussing our housing plans with Mum and she suggested that we should get a larger house instead of having to move again after a couple of months. We could also think of taking out a mortgage,” she said.
“I thought we agreed that it made more financial sense to get something smaller?”
“Yes, but moving can be hectic.”
“Have you forgotten we have a wedding to plan too?” I asked that.
“About that, Mum said that we have to increase the guest list. You know she’s a social butterfly, she needs to invite more people.”
“We are already stretching ourselves thin with the number as it is, we don’t have much wiggle room,” I tried to explain.
The following weeks were stressful. We would make a decision as a couple but the moment she would discuss most of the issues with the mother, Mercy would come back with a different opinion. It began to feel like I had to run every detail of our lives by her mother for approval. Mercy hardly articulated her wishes. She would side with her mother over issues that didn’t her mother’s interference in the first place.
“Babe, I respect your mother but we have to make decisions about our lives on our own,” I told Mercy.
“She’s my mother and she wants the best for me, not to mention she has more experience,” Mercy responded.
“So does my mother but you don’t see her meddling in our lives like that,” I said in frustration.
“Are you saying my mother meddles?”
“I’m sorry that came out wrongly, I would just like us to make decisions that work for us,” I said trying to salvage the conversation.
I knew I could have handled it better but I was at my wit’s end so it just came out. As expected she told her mother about our fight. Feeling cornered, I told my family about the situation. I was advised to apologize but to create boundaries with Mercy and her family. After several apologies to both Mercy and her mother, a semblance of normalcy returned to our relationship. I was hopeful that things would get better. They did for a while. We proceeded with the first traditional event without drama. However, the change was short-lived. The old pattern was back. We would discuss issues then after talking to her mother, she would change her mind and refuse to compromise even when her idea wasn’t ideal for us. For a while, she acted as though she had changed her mind but eventually, we were back to, “My mother said.”
I tried to accommodate their views but it was clear that Mercy would always prioritize her mother’s opinion while making decisions that affected us. It broke my heart but I broke off the engagement a month before the ruracio. Embittered by the separation, she accused me of not understanding her bond with the mother and even claimed I lacked that close relationship. However, I knew I couldn’t have healthy boundaries with her family if she didn’t have any. I would always be the villain in such situations.
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