I Thought I Was Lucky with My Daughter-in-Law… But After the Wedding, She Changed Completely

When my son Alejandro introduced María, I immediately thought: I’m lucky. A simple, organized, home-loving young woman. Their apartment was always spotless, everything in its place. She cooked wonderfully and was always polite, smiling, and kind. I never heard a harsh word from her. We saw each other often—either they visited me at my house in the countryside, or I stopped by to have tea with them. I never felt like a burden. On the contrary, María always tried to help, to please me. I felt happy—for myself and for my son. I thought, “Finally, I’ll have a real family.”

They had only been dating for six months when Alejandro proposed. María accepted immediately but made it clear that she dreamed of a beautiful wedding—white dress, limousine, and a photographer. They didn’t have the money at the time, so they decided to save up for six months. I didn’t interfere in their decisions. I didn’t have extra money to help either, and giving advice when it’s not asked for is never a good idea. Young couples should choose how to live their lives. What mattered was that they loved each other.

The wedding happened just as they had dreamed. I gave them money instead of unnecessary gifts, so they could decide what they needed most. Most of the guests were their friends. My friend—Alejandro’s godmother—couldn’t attend. I stayed for a while and then left, not wanting to get in the way of the young couple’s celebration. We had already agreed that everyone would meet the next day at my country house.

The next day, the godmother and I prepared everything—salads, barbecue. The newlyweds arrived. I looked at María—she seemed serious, distant. She spent the whole day on her phone and didn’t even look at me. Alejandro at least helped, but she didn’t lift a finger. I figured she was tired—after all, the wedding and all the nerves must have taken a toll.

But then this behavior started to repeat. Our get-togethers became rare and always happened because I reached out. I didn’t interfere—I understood they were a young family and needed time to adjust and settle down. But I just wanted to see my son at least once a month.

For his birthday, I bought Alejandro a gift. I called and asked if I could stop by, even just for five minutes to give it to him. He said they weren’t celebrating, that they didn’t have the money. I understood. But half an hour later, María called me with a cold voice and said, “We want to spend some time alone. Please don’t take it personally.” I thought she might be planning a romantic surprise. But then I found out they had invited friends over. They had guests—and I wasn’t invited. They didn’t say anything to me. They simply… ignored me.

I felt like an outsider—unwanted, forgotten.

Some time later, I felt like dropping by their house again. I called, and María told me they weren’t home. Later, Alejandro accidentally mentioned that they had spent the entire day at home. I didn’t question it. I thought maybe María was going through something, or that she needed space. I tried not to turn my son against her. I didn’t want to be that stereotypical mother-in-law everyone jokes about.

But the final straw came recently. I ran into María at the supermarket—face to face. As a polite person, I greeted her. And she… acted as if she didn’t see me. She walked right past me as if I didn’t exist. I was in shock. Could I really mean so little to her that I didn’t even deserve a simple “hello”?

I didn’t call Alejandro. I didn’t complain. Even though I was dying to call María and ask: what did I do wrong? Why did you pull away? What did I do to upset you? But I stayed silent. Because deep down, I still had a small hope that this wasn’t permanent. Maybe she’s pregnant and the hormones are affecting her. Or, as people say, maybe she “lost her mind.” Or maybe… she’s just like this. And all that kindness before the wedding was just a performance. And now, the mask had come off.

I don’t know if I should talk to her directly. Maybe it’s true that time fixes everything. But in the meantime, I feel unnecessary. And that’s terrifying. Especially when you’re not a stranger, or an enemy… but the mother of the man she calls her husband.

Tell me, what do you think? Should a mother-in-law speak openly about her pain when it becomes unbearable? Or is it better to stay quiet and hope she’ll realize it on her own someday? Why did María change so much after the wedding? Where is the woman who once made me so happy?