Jane shared with us: “I’m Jane, a 28-year-old soon-to-be bride from Portland, Oregon, and I’ve been daydreaming about my honeymoon with my soon-to-be-husband, Mark. We’ve been dating for three wonderful years, and we were ready to start our journey as a married couple. But it turns out my MIL has other plans,”
My fiancé and I decided to use all our savings on our honeymoon.
As the wedding date approached, I became engaged in wedding arrangements and Pinterest boards, daydreaming about the romance surrounding the Eiffel Tower and the cobblestone alleys of Paris. Mark and I were looking through a honeymoon brochure when he mentioned something that briefly dimmed my excitement.
One ordinary evening, while we were on the couch, Mark hesitated before dropping a bombshell. “You know, my mom wants to come with us.” I nearly choked on the excitement that had filled the room just moments before. “Your mom? To our honeymoon? Seriously?” I asked, hoping he was kidding.
But he wasn’t.
Mark revealed that his mother, Carol, had been feeling lonely since his father’s death, and she saw our honeymoon as a time for family connection. I tried to see his point of view, but the thought of sharing such an intimate vacation with my mother-in-law made me uncomfortable.
After a comprehensive discussion, Mark persuaded me that having Carol accompany us would not be as bad as I had anticipated, and might perhaps be a good experience. I reluctantly agreed, hoping that the addition of a third wheel would not overshadow our romantic moments.
But I was correct from the beginning: she should not have joined us.
Our honeymoon in Paris finally arrived, and it was clear from the start that my reservations were valid. Carol, in her early 60s, was enthusiastic but tended to hover, changing our intimate dinners into family gatherings and our private moments into shared experiences.
While we wandered along the Seine and saw famous sights, I couldn’t help but ache for the romantic seclusion I had imagined. My mother-in-law’s constant presence created an underlying tension. Though I enjoyed her company, I couldn’t shake the idea that our honeymoon had been tainted.
Now that I’ve returned to Portland, I’m experiencing conflicting emotions. I appreciate Mark’s desire to help his mother, but I can’t ignore the reality that our honeymoon did not meet my expectations. While reflecting on our experiences, I have a lingering question: How can I successfully communicate my sentiments to Mark while also balancing family commitments and the closeness expected in our newlywed phase?
