Guess what? We had to change the locks to stop my mother-in-law from treating our flat like her own.
My husband and I have been married for a year now, and his mother still struggles to accept that he made a choice that doesnt fit her grand plan. Shed dreamed of him marrying some billionaires daughter so hed live in luxury and take her along for the ride. Where she got these ideas, Ill never know. The truth is, were just an ordinary coupletightening our belts at first, taking out a mortgage, living in my old studio while renting out our new place. Next goal? A car. Like most young couples, were not splashing out, but were not starving either.
Yet she refuses to face reality, clinging to her fantasies and doing everything to wreck our marriage. Her methods? Downright creative. Shed smear lipstick on my husbands shirts, leave his clothes reeking of perfume, and plant condoms in my bag. Of course, it led to rows, suspicion, and tension. Thankfully, we always caught on, but the damage lingered.
Recently, my husband had to move to another city for a few months to launch a new brancha big career opportunity, so we agreed. He left, I stayed, and all was well.
Until I started noticing odd thingsobjects moved, cupboards rummaged through. At first, I thought my husband had popped back for something, since it wasnt far. I called him he was baffled and swore he hadnt returned. An hour later, he rang back, voice grim. He reckoned it was his mother. Before his trip, hed given her our keys “just in case” and forgotten to take them back.
The next day, I took leave and had the locks changed straight away. I made it clear to my husbandif he handed out our keys again, hed be sleeping on the landing. That evening, everything was untouched. So it *was* her. I checked the cupboards andbingofound a hidden camera tucked on a high shelf.
I called my husband immediately. Silence, then he burst out laughingutter madness. I searched the flat just in case, but thankfully, that was it. No drama, just patience until he returned to handle it himself.
And then? The next day, my mother-in-law called. She mustve realised her keys didnt work and wanted in. Asked if I was home, suggesting we “have tea.” I said no, but maybe another time. Half an hour later, my husband told me shed complained to himclaiming I was off gallivanting while the house stood empty.
We nearly laughed. We even started betting on her next excuse to get inside. She didnt disappointcalling daily with stories of misdelivered parcels, forgotten glasses, or just bringing croissants.
When my husband returned, she announced she was “visiting.” We were ready. She arrived with pastries, pretended to wash her hands then darted straight to the bedroom. We followed, of course. Caught her rifling through the wardrobe. She stammered when she saw us. My husband pulled the camera from his pocket and held it up.
Then came the meltdown. She shrieked that I was cheating, lying to her son, that he was naïve. Even pulled the whole “heart attack” act before storming out like a wronged martyr.
Honestly, I nearly applauded. A performance like that, unrehearsed. But this was just one battle. The war isnt over. Still, we stood firm this time. Made it clearour family isnt a stage for her absurd theatrics.
Sometimes, setting boundaries isnt just necessaryits the only way to keep your sanity intact.
