Taken from real life. “My son broke off contact with me because I didn't accept his wife”: And I just wanted him to be happy

I met Marta, his future wife, during a family dinner.

I was ready to give up everything so that my son, Paweł, would be happy. He was my only child, my pride and joy. I raised him alone after his father left when he was only three. We were a team, he and I. Throughout all these years, I felt that I had managed to raise a good, honest man. So when he told me he was going to get married, I should have been happy. But something about the situation didn't leave me alone.

I met Marta, his future wife, at a family dinner. She was elegant, confident, but her gaze penetrated me. There was something in her manner that seemed cold, and in her words I could sense subtle notes of superiority. When I asked about their future plans, she answered in a way that worried me: “Paweł will have to give up some things to be with me. But love is worth sacrificing, right??”

Over time, I noticed more things that worried me. Paweł stopped meeting friends, spending time on his passions. He became silent and distant. When I asked him if everything was okay, he just shrugged. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't want to delve too deeply for fear of alienating him.

On my wedding day, I looked at him standing at the altar and saw a mixture of happiness and uncertainty in his eyes. After the ceremony, I tried to talk to him, but Marta was always there. When I finally gathered my courage, I told him directly: “Paweł, I can see you're not yourself. If something's bothering you, you have to tell me.” That was the last conversation we had as mother and son.

A few days later, he called. He was cold and accusatory. He said he couldn't handle my “constant criticism” of Marta, that I didn't accept his choice. I explained that I was worried, that I just wanted him to be happy. He replied: “Mom, this is my wife.” If you can't accept that, we can't have contact.”

The phone rang and I was left alone. I was torn between guilt and the belief that I had done everything in my power to protect my son. Two years have passed since then. I haven't seen or heard from him. Sometimes I wonder if he would be happy today if I had stayed silent. Or maybe he would finally see what I saw from the beginning?

I pray every day that he will come back to me someday, so that we can talk again. I miss my son, his smile, the moments when we were each other's whole world. But what hurts me the most is the thought that everything I did was for his happiness, and it ended with me losing the most important person in my life.

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