I called it “Got MIL?” and in hindsight, posting it was not my most prudent move.
It was an essay that discussed, at some discomfiting length, my relationship with my mother-in-law. It was not an essay that was particularly flattering to my mother-in-law, because she was — is — not a particularly easy mother-in-law.
But — as I later told my brothers- and sister-in-law (who, yes, found the post; this is how this story ends) — I believed that it was my story to tell. It was about my experience with her, my responses to the things that she said to me, my discomfort in struggling to accommodate her while she visited, for the first time, her newborn grandson.
At the time, I was struggling with post-partum depression. I could barely cope. When faced with that weekend — with trying to recover from that weekend — I turned to my favored form of therapy: spilling my guts to the Internet.
The essay began like this: Read more …