Taken from life. “My mother-in-law said that if I don't learn to cook like her, my husband will be unhappy”

One day, during dinner at my mother-in-law's, the topic turned to cooking.

When I married Marcin, I knew that his mother, Mrs. Krystyna, had a strong character. She was a woman who did everything perfectly her whole life – running the household, raising children, cooking. Her dishes were a legend in the family, and every meeting ended with people raving about her culinary skills. I knew it would be hard to live up to her standards, but I never thought they would become the measure of my marriage.

One day, during dinner at my mother-in-law's, the topic turned to cooking. Mrs. Krystyna, as always, served exquisite dishes – dumplings stuffed with meat, broth whose aroma filled the entire house, and apple pie for dessert. Everyone ate in silence, savoring the taste.

– „Ania, have you ever tried making pierogi?– she asked, looking at me with slightly raised eyebrows.

– „Yes, but mine don't come out like yours. I'm still learning.”

Mother-in-law sighed, putting down her fork.

– „Exactly, Ania. Cooking is the foundation of a happy home. Marcin grew up eating my dinners, and I know what he likes. If you want him to be happy, you have to learn to cook like me.”

The silence at the table was deafening. I looked at Marcin, expecting him to come to my defense, but he just looked down, as if agreeing with his mother.

I tried to respond calmly, although inside I felt anger rising.

– „I try, Ms. Krystyna, but everyone has their own style. I may not be such a good cook yet, but I always cook with my heart.”

Mother-in-law nodded, but her smile was cold.

– „Cooking with heart is one thing, but Marcin also needs good food. Maybe one day you'll understand how important it is for a man to come home to something he knows and loves.”

When I got home, I couldn't take it anymore. I stopped in the kitchen and looked at Marcin.

– “Why didn't you say anything? Your mother treats me like an uneducated housewife, and you don't even try to defend me!”

Marcin shrugged as if it was no big deal.

– “Ania, mom just wants you to cook better. That doesn't mean she doesn't respect you. She just says what she thinks.”

– “And you? What do you think? Do you really think that my food makes you unhappy?”

Marcin was silent, which hurt more than any words.

For the next few days, my mother-in-law's words kept ringing in my head. I decided that I would learn to cook – not for her, but for myself. I spent hours in the kitchen, trying to improve my skills. Pierogi, soups, cakes – everything became a field for learning. But even when Marcin praised my progress, I felt something inside me breaking.

Another dinner at my mother-in-law's came. This time, I brought a homemade apple pie. When I served it to the table, my mother-in-law looked at it critically.

& “It looks pretty good,” she said, cutting a piece. She tried it and nodded. & “It's not bad, Ania. But mine is fluffier.”

That was the moment I realized that I would never satisfy Mrs. Krystyna, because the problem was not my cooking, but her need for control.

Today I cook what I like and what my family likes. I understood that love and happiness in marriage do not depend on cooking skills, but on mutual respect and support.

And my mother-in-law? I let her think she has the best pierogi in the world – because maybe she does. But I have my own kitchen, my own flavors, and a family that loves me for who I am, not for what I serve on my plate.

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