She showed up at our home one week after our wedding with suitcases, uninvited. Scott never asked me if she could move in — he just told me she needed help. I gave her two months.
From the start, Gloria made it clear: this was her son’s house, not mine. She criticized everything — my home, my job, my lifestyle. But the final straw came during what I now call the soup incident.
After a stressful day, I sat down with a bowl of lentil soup when Gloria stormed in and screamed, “If you don’t work, you don’t eat!” Startled, I dropped the bowl. She smirked. No apology.I told her, “Get out of my house.” She refused, threatening me with, “Wait till Scott gets home!” When he did, he believed her version. Not mine. “I know my mother,” he said. That was it.
I calmly replied: “Pack your things. Both of you.” With help from my brother and his friends, they left that night. Gloria’s parting words were cruel: “You’ll die alone.” But I felt nothing but relief. The next morning, Scott texted: “You owe my mom an apology.” I responded with one word: “Lawyer.”
We divorced quietly. I never looked back. You are allowed to choose peace. You are not selfish for setting boundaries — even with family. Sometimes, walking away is the most powerful thing you can do.