Everly had thought that marriage would bring about a new beginning, but when she learned of her mother-in-law Lilith’s intrusive behavior, she found herself entangled in a long-running family drama. With her belongings pilfered and her personal space infringed, Everly was forced into a cunning power struggle.
I knew about the stories of notorious mother-in-law conflicts as soon as I was married to Austin, but I mistakenly believed, “That won’t happen to me.” With Austin’s mother Lilith, I had an alternative idea. How wrong I was.
At first, the warning indicators were not overt. Lilith smiled and gave hugs with an outward friendliness. However, she had a particular sparkle in her eye that resembled a warning light on a dashboard. She was bearable, but there was an obvious sense of difficulty in the way she carried herself.
We had a tense but controlled connection because I had made it a point to keep in touch sparingly during the previous ten years. It was a peaceful arrangement, I assure you.
Go back to my earlier times as a hopeful newlywed who was eager to get along with her new family. To show her that I was a good fit for her son, I made a special effort to cook, clean, and throw social gatherings. But Lilith seemed to have her own agenda; her remarks were cunning and her praises contradictory. These subtleties, which a son would have seen as imperceptible, were lost on Austin.
Next was our honeymoon. A week after the wedding, we had a romantic vacation and left Lilith in charge of our apartment, telling her only to check the mail and do other small chores. Our apartment, furnished with affection and the occasional annoyance that comes with putting together IKEA furniture, served as our first shared area.
Something had changed in the air when we got back. As I stepped into the apartment, my heart fell. The cookware was moved, and the tools were misplaced in the chaotic kitchen.
Our formerly comfortable living room appeared as though it had been designed on a bad day by a magazine editor. The most upsetting thing was that she had thrown away a number of priceless pictures and mementos, and strangely, some of my underwear had also vanished.
I was so overwhelmed that I sobbed when I told Austin what was going on. He was furious, more about our privacy being violated than the actual reorganization. All he got out of his encounter with Lilith was the standard “misunderstanding” explanation.
Austin was bewildered, and I was furious, as she played the victim so convincingly, saying she was only “trying to be helpful” and even crying.
Austin, bless him, made an attempt to bring things back to normal by suggesting that everything be returned to its previous state. He tackled the kitchen, a noble but ultimately terrible undertaking. It came to light that Lilith had not even taught him how to spread butter on toast, let alone perform other basic household responsibilities.
The entire ordeal served as a painful lesson in relationship boundary-setting. But this drama’s true climax happened later. Lilith came over one afternoon while Austin was away. That cool smirk and nod that said she understood exactly how much trouble she had made and relished it, was there as I opened the door. Her game was about control, not affection, as that moment and look made clear. I understood right away what kind of person I was dealing with after that.
I’m not usually one for taking retribution, but it appeared Lilith had accidentally set the fire. I was simply waiting for the ideal opportunity to take action. Before long, a chance arose when Lilith became unwell and was admitted to the hospital. It was nothing serious, but it was enough to restrict her for a while. And who did you think received the keys to her domain? Indeed, Austin.
The allure was too strong to resist. I manufactured a duplicate of her house key covertly, thinking it would be a “just in case” scenario. I started my undercover operation and took a few days off work while Austin busied himself with his normal activities.
It seemed like a hostile territory to enter Lilith’s home. Still, there I stood, resolute. I began by rearranging everything in the kitchen, exactly as she had done with ours. I took out her old broken dinnerware; it was really a favor for her.
I kept making rapid modifications to every area in her house, including taking out photographs, rearranging her bathrooms to look unsettlingly different, and changing the contents of her coat and linen closets.
But I steered well clear of the living room. It was too dangerous and too exposed. Austin had no reason to suspect anything.
Upon Lilith’s discharge from the hospital, I assumed the role of the loyal daughter-in-law. That morning, I told Austin, “Honey, I thought I’d help clean up your mom’s place, you know, for a fresh start.” Though he was still unaware of my little strategy, he was puzzled yet touched by the gesture.
Austin and I got the day began as usual, rushing around Lilith’s house dusting, mopping, and making sure everything was immaculate—a cleaning frenzy fit for a queen bee, or royalty, in this instance. We drove to pick Lilith up from the hospital after our exertions.
There was excitement and stillness during the ride. Lilith’s first response when we got there and she entered her house was telling. She stopped, her lips pressed tight as she scanned the living area. “What have you done with my photos?” she asked angrily.
Austin, who was always trying to defuse situations, answered with a bewildered look. “What are you saying, Mom?”
With a growing accusation, she exclaimed, “You stole my pictures!”
Calmly, I chimed in, “Oh no, MIL. All that we did was help Austin clean.
“Yeah, Mom, we just cleaned up a bit—nothing more,” Austin confirmed.
In an attempt to diffuse the tension, I said, “Would you like some tea?” I was met with a stern rejection rather than gratitude.
“Leave my kitchen now!” she yelled, then hurried off to take a closer look at her new environment. Not long after, there was a loud cry from the kitchen. “What have you done?” was her exclamation.
I looked at Austin, trying to look like I didn’t understand. “Mom, we just cleaned the counters and dishes,” he comforted her. and gave the floor a mop.
Lilith, however, was enraged; her face twisted with rage as she dug through her jumbled belongings. I indicated to Austin that perhaps the reason she was upset was because of me, as I sensed that she was distressed. I really ought to leave.
He nodded, confused, and said, “Maybe that’s best.”
I told Lilith, pretending to be happy, “I’ll be on my way then. When Austin is prepared to be picked up, he can give me a call.
I turned to go and gave Lilith a knowing glance, matching the nod she had given me before, a tacit admission of the chaos I had brought into her neat life. Luckily, Austin was preoccupied and didn’t see our conversation.
When I went back to pick him up, Austin told me about his mother’s charges against me. I said, “It sounds like your dear mom’s memory might be slipping with age,” seeming worried. He nodded solemnly, “Yeah, it’s tough for her.”
As I drove home, I thought back on the day’s happenings as the twilight shadows stretched across the street. Had I exacted too great a punishment? Maybe. But sometimes, especially when dealing with someone as cunning as Lilith, you have to fight fire with fire.
So, dear readers, was it appropriate for me to behave this way, or should I have acted more decorously? In my shoes, how would you have handled things? Though I do believe in karma, I also believe in taking appropriate action, so please share your ideas.