My Mom Always Controlled My Entire Life, but What She Did to Ruin My Wedding Crossed the Line — Story of the Day

My mom always controlled every part of my life. She chose my clothes, picked my friends, and even decided where I went to college. But when I finally found love and planned my wedding, she went too far. What she did to ruin my big day wasn’t just controlling—it was a betrayal I could never forget.

Jeez, it is a long story, and I don’t even know where to begin. My mom raised me alone. My dad had gone off the radar even before I was born. I never knew him, not even through a story or a photo.

Whenever I asked, my mom would say, “He wasn’t worth our time,” and that was that.

I wasn’t sure if my dad’s absence made my mom so controlling or if she had always been that way.

Either way, I grew up feeling smothered by a hyper-controlling mother hen. When I was little, it felt normal.

She picked my clothes, chose my friends, and decided my hobbies. “You’ll thank me one day,” she’d say.

But as I got older, I realized my life wasn’t like other kids’. They had freedom, sleepovers, and choices.

I wanted that too. But I wanted my mom to be happy even more. She often said, “All my happiness is in you,” and I believed it.

When I applied to college, my dream was New York University. I wanted a fresh start.

But one day, I came home, and my mom told me I hadn’t gotten in. I was crushed. She hugged me as I cried, whispering, “It’s okay. You’re still my girl.”

I ended up at the local university, living at home. But one evening, while cleaning, I found an opened letter behind the closet.

My hands shook as I read it. I had gotten into New York University. My dreams had been real, and my mom had hidden them from me.

I waited for my mom to come back from work. I stood right at the front door, gripping the letter so hard my knuckles turned white. The crumpled envelope trembled in my hand.

As soon as she walked in, I stepped forward. “What is this?!” I demanded, holding the letter up.

Her eyes widened. “Where did you find that?!” she shouted. She lunged forward, her hands reaching for the letter. I jerked back, clutching it to my chest.

“You weren’t supposed to find that!” she screamed. Her voice bounced off the walls, sharp and panicked.

“Why did you do this?!” I yelled. “I could have been at New York University! I could have been living my dream!”

Tears streamed down her face. “Because you would have left me!” she cried. “You would have abandoned me! I would have been all alone.”

I stood frozen. My anger burned inside me, but her sobs pulled at my heart.

She looked so small, so broken. I let out a shaky breath, stepped closer, and wrapped my arms around her. She clung to me, her tears soaking my shoulder.

I never left. I stayed living with my mom, burying my dreams to keep her happy.

The older I got, the harder it became to live with my mom. Her need to control everything suffocated me.

I couldn’t take a step without her approval. She needed to know where I was, who I was with, and what I was doing at every moment.

It became impossible to date anyone. My relationships never lasted more than two weeks.

At first, things would go well, but then my mom would get involved. She would call nonstop, ask endless questions, and even show up unannounced. Most guys got scared off by her behavior.

One night, I decided to push back. I stayed over at my boyfriend’s place, ignoring her calls.

At first, it felt freeing. I thought, “Maybe this is what normal feels like.” But then, the doorbell rang, and there stood the police.

My mom had reported that my boyfriend had kidnapped me. We spent hours explaining that nothing was wrong. I was humiliated.

After she ruined yet another date, I snapped. “Then find me someone who meets your standards!” I yelled. My voice echoed in the room.

And, shockingly, she did.

One evening, I came home from work and found a man sitting in our living room.

He was drinking tea with my mom, his hands wrapped around the cup as if he had been there forever. His name was Colin.

We started talking, and to my surprise, I liked him. He was kind and funny, and he wasn’t scared off by my mom. In fact, he managed to get along with her. It felt like a miracle.

After almost a year of dating, Colin planned a romantic dinner at my mom’s house.

When I walked into the kitchen, I saw candles, flowers, and…my mom standing there with a camera.

“What’s going on?” I asked, stepping into the kitchen. My eyes darted from the candles to the flowers and then to my mom, who held a camera with a big grin on her face.

Colin opened his mouth, but my mom beat him to it. “Oh, Elizabeth! I’m so happy for you!” she exclaimed. “Finally, we made it, dear!” Her voice was high-pitched, filled with excitement.

“Made what?” I asked, confusion washing over me. I turned to Colin. “Colin?”

He took a deep breath, then slowly got down on one knee. My heart skipped a beat.

“Elizabeth,” he began, his voice steady. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, despite all the difficulties,” he glanced at my mom. I couldn’t help but laugh.

Colin’s eyes met mine again. “I want to be with you and only you,” he said. “Honey, will you marry me?” His hand reached out, holding a small velvet box. Inside, a ring sparkled.

“Yes, yes!” I screamed.

Colin stood up and slid the ring onto my finger. I moved to hug him, but my mom rushed in first.

She wrapped her arms around Colin, squeezing him tight. Then, she turned to me, pulling me into a hug.

“In honor of this, you can even stay over tonight,” my mom said, giving me a playful wink.

Colin and I shared a look and burst into laughter. To her, intimacy only happened at night.

Colin did stay over, but all we did was watch a movie. Every now and then, I heard soft footsteps and felt her presence at my bedroom door.

When the wedding preparations began, I didn’t have to think about anything. My mom took over everything.

She picked the venue, the priest, the baker, and the caterer. She even chose my wedding dress. It felt like I was a guest at my own wedding. Colin and I had no say.

One evening, Colin sat with me at our kitchen table. We were supposed to make the guest list, but I didn’t even need to be there. My mom sat with a notepad, scribbling names of people I hardly knew.

Then, out of nowhere, my mom said, “You know, after the wedding, we can turn my room into a nursery. I’ll live in the living room.”

Colin and I exchanged wide-eyed glances. He cleared his throat. “We actually planned to live at my place when we get married,” he said.

My mom blinked, her smile fading. “Oh, I’m not sure. You live in a completely different neighborhood. I don’t think I can move that easily.”

Colin gave me a reassuring look. “It seems you didn’t understand. Only Elizabeth will move,” he said firmly.

“Only her?!” My mom’s voice shot up. “What about me? Elizabeth, tell him you won’t go anywhere without me!”

I swallowed hard. “Actually, Colin and I have already decided. We will live together.”

Her face turned red. “You’re going to leave me alone?! After everything I’ve done for you?”

“I’ll visit you, Mom. We’re not moving to another city,” I said softly.

She stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. “You raise her, and this is how she repays you! No gratitude at all!” She stormed off, slamming her bedroom door.

I dropped my head into my hands, feeling crushed. Colin wrapped an arm around me, gently rubbing my back. “She’ll come to terms with it,” he said.

“Then you don’t know her well enough,” I whispered.

And then my mom got sick. Her face grew pale, and dark circles appeared under her eyes.

She coughed often, clutching her chest, and complained of constant pain. Colin and I had no choice but to cancel the wedding.

All our savings went toward her treatment. Hospital bills, medications, and doctor visits piled up. My life became a cycle of work, caregiving, and worry.

At home, my mom never left my side. She needed me for everything. If I went to the kitchen, she called out to ask what I was doing.

If I sat down to rest, she needed water or her medicine. The only time I had to myself was at work.

Colin and I barely saw each other. When we did, my mom was always there, sitting between us, talking over us.

Our relationship suffered. We argued about small things, but the tension ran deeper. I felt like our love was slipping away, bit by bit.

One evening, after another argument, I tried talking to my mom. “I feel like Colin and I are falling apart,” I said.

She didn’t even look up from her magazine. “Maybe it’s for the best,” she said.

Her words sat heavy in the air. I couldn’t shake the feeling that she wanted us to break up.

When her health got worse, I decided to find a new doctor. I researched and found Dr. Green, a specialist.

When I told my mom, she refused. “I already have a doctor. He knows my case,” she argued.

But I didn’t listen. I took her to see Dr. Green. He ran tests, asked questions, and finally stepped into the waiting room.

"I don't know which doctor you saw before, but your mom is completely healthy," Dr. Green said. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression calm.

"What? Are you sure?" I asked. My voice was thin, and my hands felt cold.

"I'll tell you more," Dr. Green said. "She's healthier than I am." He gave a small shrug.

On the way home, I didn't say a word. My mom sat next to me, sighing and groaning.

She clutched her chest and closed her eyes. I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles white.

As soon as we walked through the door, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. "Why are you pretending to be sick?" I asked. My voice was sharp.

"What? I'm not pretending!" my mom shouted. She sat on the couch, her face twisted in fake pain.

"Liar. I talked to Dr. Green. He said you're completely healthy," I said.

Her eyes narrowed. "He's a charlatan!" she screamed.

"I saw your test results. They're normal," I said. "I spent thousands on your ‘treatment.’ I canceled my wedding. Where did all the money go?" My voice rose.

"Why did you do this?" I shouted.

"Because you would have gone with Colin, and I would have been left alone!" she screamed back.

"We would have lived in the same city!" I said.

"But you wouldn't have lived with me anymore!" she cried. Her face crumpled, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

I took a deep breath. "You know what? I've had enough. Enough of your control and overprotection. I can't take this anymore. It’s time for me to live my own life," I said.

Her head snapped up. "What are you going to do?!" she shouted.

But I didn't answer. I turned away, walked to my room, and closed the door behind me.

I twisted the lock, hearing the soft click. It was the first barrier I had ever put up between us. I sat on my bed for a moment, my hands shaking.

My mom’s voice came through the door, sharp and frantic. “Elizabeth! Open this door! You can't do this to me!” She twisted the handle, banging on the wood. “Let me in! We need to talk!”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I grabbed my phone and texted Colin. Can you come and get me? I need to leave.

He replied right away. On my way.

I moved quickly, stuffing clothes and essentials into a suitcase. I could still hear my mom’s voice, but I blocked it out. I needed to focus.

When Colin arrived, I opened the door. He stepped inside, his face set and calm. Together, we walked past my mom.

She pleaded, “Elizabeth, please! Don’t go! You can’t leave me!” Then, when I didn’t stop, her words turned harsh. She screamed insults at Colin, but he stayed quiet, his arm firm around me.

In the car, I took a deep breath. My chest felt tight, but at least I could breathe.

“This is for the best,” Colin said, taking my hand.

“Yes, I know,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

I wasn’t sure if I would cut ties with her forever. But I knew I needed peace. It was time to live my own life and make my own choices.

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