**She Knows Best**
For Helen Whitaker, that October when Michael married Felicity was a dark time. She barely noticed the golden hues of autumnall she saw was her boy, her pride and joy, slipping away into the clutches of that Felicity.
Shed disliked her future daughter-in-law from the first moment. Too self-assured, too independent. Looked people straight in the eye, had opinions of her own. Worst of allshe came with a child. Born out of wedlock, no less. “Shes trapped my Michael,” Helen thought bitterly. “Now hell have to provide for her and her little girl as well.”
There had been someone elseCharlotte. The daughter of a friend, the girl Helen had already imagined building a future with Michael. Quiet, obedient, a sensible accountant at a respectable firm. Most importantly, Charlotte understood the bond between mother and son. Shed even said, “Helen, Id always ask your adviceyou know him best.” The right words.
But Felicity? Impossible to reason with. Every offer of helphow to season Michaels steak, the best way to iron his shirtswas met with a polite but firm, “Well manage, thank you.” That word”we”cut deep. She was his mother. She knew best!
***
Felicitys family wasnt overjoyed either. At nearly thirty, shed been living with her parents, raising her daughter, and longing for love. Michael proposed quicklywithin a month of meetingthough without her daughter at first. Then, just weeks later, came the wedding. “Ive found my match,” hed declared, ready to build a life together.
Felicity was over the moon. This was the blinding, all-consuming love shed dreamed of. When anyone warned herthat infatuation was fleeting, that Michael wasnt readyshe bristled. She loved him fiercely, certain she could warm his heart, make him happy, help him “spread his wings.”
A month before the wedding, her mother gave her a weary look over tea.
“Felicity, you do realise Michaels difficult?”
“Mum, hes just sensitive!” she protested. “No ones ever understood himbut I do.”
“Its not about understanding, love. Hes used to being coddled, living under his mothers wing with no responsibilities. Are you ready to carry everything? Him, his mother, your daughter?”
“Hell detach from her once were married! He just needs love and support. I can give him that.”
Her sister Beatrice was blunter. After one visit where Michael dominated the conversation with complaints about his old boss, she pulled Felicity aside.
“Chris, your Michaels a complete narcissist. Do you even see it? He doesnt notice anyone elseits all about him.”
“Hes just upset. You havent seen how sweet and funny he can be!”
“Youre romanticising him,” Beatrice sighed. “Marriage isnt about sweetnessits about who takes the bins out and brings you tea when youre ill.”
Felicity ignored them. They were jealous, she thought. She and Michael barely argued in those early months. She loved nesting in his flat, trying new recipescooking for him was a joy. Besides, his frequent business trips made reunions sweeter. She tuned out the naysayers, brushing off Helens attempts to control her. At least they had their own placethat was something.
***
If Helen could have stopped the wedding, she would have. But it all happened too fasther boy was nearly thirty-four, after all. Hopes that hed toss Felicity aside like the others faded when her family got involved. Helen refused to help with the wedding, attending only as Michaels sole guest. She watched Felicitys lovesick gaze and thought, “It wont last. Shell tire of him.”
After the wedding, Felicity moved her daughter in, throwing herself into homemaking. Helen lived across London but called and visited so often it frayed Felicitys nerves. She criticised everything. Michael never stood up to his mothermaybe he didnt know how. And when Felicity tried to “improve” him, Helen seethed.
When Michael lost his job, Helen doubled downdaily calls, unannounced visits with pies, inspecting the fridge.
“Michael, you prefer white socks. Felicity, why havent you bought any?”
“Mum, enough,” hed grumblebut he wore the socks she brought.
Felicitys awakening was slow and painful. She couldnt compete with Helens cooking or cleaning. She worked longer hours as Michaels “temporary” unemployment stretched to six months. He waited for severance from his bankrupt firm, refusing to “lower himself” with ordinary jobs. They lived on Felicitys salary and dwindling savings.
Once, when money ran low, he said breezily, “Just borrow from Mum till payday.”
She froze. “Michael, were adults. Maybe you could start job-hunting?”
“You dont believe in me?” His face twisted. “I wont just take anything! Should I stack shelves?”
Helen seized every complaint, fanning the flames: “She doesnt understand you. I told youCharlotte never wouldve treated you like this.” She painted an alternate world where Michael was cherishedunlike Felicitys world of nagging and responsibility. Michael stayed silent, nodding when Helen nitpicked the dishes or the sandy hallway. After she left, hed snap at Felicity: “Why cant you just keep the flat tidy so she wont complain?”
Felicity fought backbut hit a wall. Michael obeyed his mother. He wanted to lead his new family but had been raised to defer to her. In crisesno money, fights with Felicityhe ran back to her. She fixed things. She provided. With her, he was safe. His father, guilt-ridden, had always bought his way outfancy bikes, a car, even the flat at thirty.
Even before the affair came to light, Felicity saw the truth: shed married a man-child, doomed to compete with his mother. So when she received the damning video, she didnt confront him. She called her parents, packed her bags, and left.
Helen was relieved. Finally, that foolish marriage was over. Her boy was hers again.
She soothed Michael: “Men strayits her fault. If a mans happy at home, he wouldnt. Dont worry, love. Mummys here. Well managejust like before. Ill cook, Ill clean. Maybe Charlotte will visitshe always liked you.”
***
Felicity, though resolute, was shattered. In her family, divorce after two years felt like failure. She expected pleas to reconcilebut they never came.
Instead, something remarkable happened.
When she called her mother, sobbing, “I cant do thisIm filing for divorce,” the reply was, “Alright, love. Your rooms ready.”
That evening, as Felicity spilled every detail, her mother listened quietly.
“Divorce him,” she finally said. “Did Michael ever compromise for you?”
“Neverbut youre not going to talk me out of it?”
“No. That man wont change. Youd be parenting him forever. Is that what you want?”
Her sister said, “Thank God youre finally seeing sense!” Even her grandmother, married fifty-five years, blessed the decision. Her usually traditional father slammed the table: “Good riddance!”
Then, a different anger surged in Felicity. She confronted her mother, tears streaming.
“Why didnt you stop me?! You all saw what he was like! Why didnt you drag me away?”
Her mother sighed. “Felicity, lovewould it have helped? If Id begged you not to marry him, would you have listened? Or hated me for ruining your happiness?”
Felicity had no answer. Of course she wouldnt have listened.
“Sometimes, the only way to learn is through your own mistakes,” her mother said gently. “We couldve forced youbut youd have resented us forever. Now, you know for yourself. Its painful, but its yours.”
Felicity weptnot just for the failed marriage, but for the clarity. They hadnt been indifferent. Theyd been wise. Theyd let her fall so shed learn to see the man, not the fairy tale. And that lesson was priceless.
***
What do you think?
A familys hardest choice: do you stop a doomed marriage, risking a permanent rift? Or let them learn the hard way, offering support when it crumbles? Wheres the line between care and controlling someones life?
