My husband, James, has always been a mama’s boy. I used to think it was sweet how much he cared for his mom, but over time, it became clear that his devotion to her came at the expense of our relationship.
When I got pregnant, I thought things would change. Surely, he’d step up to support me. But six months in, I realized how wrong I was. One day, I asked James to help me set up the nursery. Instead of pitching in, he said, “That would interfere with spending time with my mom.” When I told him I needed him now more than ever, he gave me an offended look and said, “You know my mom comes before you,” then stormed off to her house.
To make things worse, my mother-in-law, Linda, called me later that evening and gloated, “I WON,” in a snarky tone. I bit my tongue and replied, “Maybe I’ll win next time,” though hearing James laughing in the background made my blood boil.
I had had enough. I knew I needed to teach both of them a lesson.
—
Our anniversary was coming up, and James had been dropping hints about wanting a special celebration. He expected me to organize everything like I always did—dinner reservations, a gift, the works. But this time, I had something different in mind.
When the day arrived, James came home expecting a romantic dinner. Instead, he found me sitting on the couch, casually dressed, flipping through a book.
“Where’s dinner?” he asked, confused.
“Oh,” I said, feigning surprise. “I didn’t plan anything. I thought you’d be with your mom. After all, she comes before me, right?”
He frowned. “It’s our anniversary. Of course, I’d be here with you.”
“Well, if that’s true,” I said, standing up, “then prove it. From now on, if you want this marriage to work, you need to start treating me like your wife, not some backup to your mother. I won’t compete for your attention anymore.”
—
James scoffed and tried to brush it off, but I stayed firm. Over the next few weeks, I began prioritizing myself. If he left to spend hours with his mom instead of helping me, I’d hire someone to assist me with the nursery and charge it to our joint account. When Linda called to gloat, I calmly shut her down by saying, “Your son made it clear where I stand, so I’ve stopped expecting anything from him.”
The turning point came when James’s mom insisted he skip one of my doctor’s appointments to take her shopping. I went to the appointment alone, where I found out the baby was a boy. Instead of sharing the news with James immediately, I waited. When he came home and asked how the appointment went, I simply said, “Fine.”
“That’s it?” he asked, surprised.
“Well, I figured since you prioritize your mom, you don’t really care about the details,” I replied coolly.
—
The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Over the next few days, he started to change. He came home earlier, helped me with the nursery, and even apologized for the way he’d been treating me. Linda, of course, was furious and called me manipulative, but I reminded her that respect is a two-way street.
On the day our son was born, James held my hand and promised to put his family first from now on. While it’ll take time to fully rebuild my trust, I know this much: I’m no longer taking a backseat to anyone.
Sometimes, you need to stand your ground and teach people how to treat you—even if it means shaking things up.
