Having a Worrier as My Mother-In-Law
The Ups and Downs
I married my husband in 2015. He is amazing and mesmerizing. I love everything about him. My husband and I do not come from rich families, so after we tied the knot, we decided to live with his mom until we raised enough money to build our own home.
It was all beautiful at first, until a few months later, I realized my mother-in-law was a worrier. A huge one at that.
She worries when we don’t wake up early to go to work.
She worries when we don’t eat breakfast.
She worries when our dirty clothes haven’t been washed.
She worries when we don’t make our beds.
She worries when we come home late.
She worries when we don’t eat dinner.
I remember feeling trapped because I wanted to do a lot of things but couldn’t because I didn’t want to make her feel more worried. I felt like she invaded my privacy because I couldn’t have my time alone whenever I was inside the house.
Oh, it got worse when my first child, Cana, was born. She wanted to babysit my child because that was her first grandchild. I thought having a grandchild would make her calm down, but it escalated instead.
She couldn’t sleep. She didn’t want to go out with her friends. She ate fast and was restless. When Cana started walking, she was uneasy all the time. She kept on saying ‘no’ to Cana because she didn’t want her to get hurt.
No walking.
No climbing.
No playing outside.
No crying.
No playing with the kids next door.
Just watch TV and sit still.
My mother-in-law kept telling me to do this and that. I didn’t dare to argue with her. In turn, I became a little bit like her. And I didn’t like it at all.
I come from a free-spirited family. My parents’ house is located on a one-acre of land surrounded by forest. Our only neighbor is Mr. Gundidi, and his house was haunted (and still is). He sold his house to a Malay person, and a few months later, the Malay guy sold it to another person. I don’t know who owns the house now because it is abandoned. A lot of people saw questionable figures in, on, or beside the house.
Back to my family’s background, I was raised by my parents, who let me play outside for hours.
Climbing trees.
Plucking ‘rambutan’ fruits.
Play hide-and-seek.
Visiting our neighbor.
Burning trash outside of our house.
Chasing chickens.
Playing in the rain.
My mother-in-law’s style of parenting was so alien to me. It was taking a toll on me. I felt stressed, and I told my husband to move house.
We did move. We had enough money to build our own house near my parents’ house. My husband was against the idea at first, but when he realized my parents rarely interfered with our household matters, he began to relax.
It has been three years since we moved. At first, I despised my mother-in-law because she was different from me. But now I begin to understand why she is the way she is.
She is a single mother. Her husband was the dominant figure in their relationship. When he died, she needed to be strong for her four children. Hence, she planned her every move and her time. She didn’t waste her time having fun. She became a mother after her husband’s death. She is not the fun Sylvia, the hardworking teacher, or the fierce sister. She is only a ‘mother.’
So, she worries a lot. She worries if her plans don’t work. She worries that her money is not enough. She worries if her kids don’t eat. She worries that her children play outside and get hurt. She worries because she is scared of the outcome when she can’t control the situation. Because she was alone. She didn’t have her partner in crime anymore.
She used to follow instructions; now she is the decision-maker. She used to be the passenger; now she drives to her cousin’s house. She used to give all her money to her husband; now she is the breadwinner. She needs to be rigid and careful because she is now a mother and, sadly, also a father.
Then I came into her world — the free-spirited girl who worries about nothing. The one that lets kids play in the rain without thinking they might get sick later. The one that wears shorts even after becoming a mother because I just like it. The one that will still go out having fun at the cinema because I am not only a mother, but I am also myself too.
I am the opposite of her, and we both know it. That is why maybe she doesn’t like me too. Ironically, that’s the reason why my husband loves me. Both of them share the worrier traits, but one of them embraces my personality while the other doesn’t.
I hate that trait of hers. The worrier person. But she has other likable personalities that I like. So, I zoom in on the traits that I like and zoom out on the one trait I dislike.
The truth is that she is a great person. She worries out of love. People like this just need to be understood, I guess.
