Dear in laws
When I came to your house, you promised my parents that I am your daughter now. You promised them that you would treat me like your own. You promised them that I would be a part of your family.
After more than twenty two years of being married to your son, I want to ask you that how much more time would it take for me to become a part of your family. That’s all I want to know. Because I am tired of being homeless now!
This house is still not mine – it is still yours which you do not forget to remind me through every action. Because if it was my house, I would eat what I wanted to without being reminded that I put on weight. I would be able to sometimes cook and store next day’s lunch on the previous night instead of waking up at 5.30 am despite being sick. I would be able to get up late on those days when I am sick or on weekends without being judged, while immense care and concern is shown to your own offspring in the same situations.
If this was my house, I would have been able to plan my day as per my needs to ensure I made time for family as well as myself. I could go to the gym, or a painting class or a music class or engage in any other hobby that would make me feel good about myself. But that would have been a luxury only if this was my house. You don’t even let me sit where I want or decorate my room the way I want or buy any household item that I like. I am still waiting when this will become my house and when you will stop treating me like an outsider who you give shelter under your roof.
Even my own parents’ house is not my house anymore. When I visit them even that becomes an issue no matter how infrequent my visits might be.
When you fall ill, I spend day and night tending to your needs but when my own parents are ill, your son doesn’t even call to ask. In our marriage, my parents lost a daughter but never gained a son; but you gained a maid and a punching bag without even losing your son.
Where is my home I ask you?
Where is that place where I can sit and breathe in peace without the stress of being judged?
Where is that place where I can be myself?
Please tell me, because I am tired of being homeless.
Daughter (is it?) – in – law