My husband is seven years younger than I am, and from the day we married, his mother never fully accepted our relationship. She often hinted that I had “trapped” him by getting pregnant, as if love could only exist between people of the same age.
Our son is eight years old now — bright, curious, and full of the joy that only a child can bring. Through the years, I learned to ignore the quiet remarks, the knowing looks, and the occasional whispers at family gatherings. I told myself that patience was better than confrontation. But last week, at my mother-in-law’s birthday celebration, everything changed — not with anger, but with grace.
