My MIL Threw Away All My Food from the Fridge – I Responded on Her Birthday

My MIL Threw Away All My Food from the Fridge – I Responded on Her Birthday

Living under the same roof with my mother-in-law had been challenging from the start. The cultural differences between us had always been a point of contention, but I never expected it to escalate to the point of her disposing of all my cooking supplies.

The food I cook, a vibrant representation of my South Asian heritage, means more to me than just sustenance; it’s a connection to my roots, my family, and my identity. However, the disdain from my mother-in-law towards my culture and the food I love became painfully evident the day I found my pantry emptied.

Kebabs roasting | Source: Pexels

Kebabs roasting | Source: Pexels

Having my mother-in-law move in was never going to be easy. The dynamics in our household shifted dramatically, but I had hoped for a semblance of respect and understanding. My husband, whose palate has embraced the diverse flavors of my cooking, has been caught in the middle of this cultural clash. His efforts to mediate have been commendable, yet the strain is visible, eroding the harmony we once shared.

A rice dish with various furnishings | Source: Pexels

A rice dish with various furnishings | Source: Pexels

The disparaging comments from my mother-in-law weren’t new to me. She had always made her feelings known, criticizing the way I eat with my hands as if it were something to be ashamed of, or the aromatic spices that filled our home, dismissing them as offensive. My husband’s attempts to defend me and educate her on the beauty and diversity of other cultures seemed futile.

Various spices | Source: Pexels

Various spices | Source: Pexels

Living with her constant judgments and disregard for my heritage was testing my patience, but I had chosen to remain silent, attributing her behavior to the stress of the quarantine.

The morning I discovered the empty pantry was a breaking point. The realization that she had taken it upon herself to throw away not just the food but a piece of my identity was shocking. Her justification, claiming it was for the sake of her son’s dietary preferences, was a blatant disregard for me, my culture, and even her son’s choices.

Jards in a pantry | Source: Pexels

Jards in a pantry | Source: Pexels

It was clear she viewed my heritage as inferior, something to be erased and replaced with what she considered “normal American food,” as if my being American wasn’t valid because of my ethnic background.

My frustration was compounded by the challenge of replenishing my supplies. The quarantine had already made grocery shopping a daunting task, and finding specific ingredients for my dishes was nearly impossible due to shortages. Returning home empty-handed to face her audacious questioning about dinner plans was the epitome of insult to injury.

A woman doing grocery shopping | Source: Pexels

A woman doing grocery shopping | Source: Pexels

In that moment, feeling belittled and disrespected in my own home, something shifted within me. I realized that remaining silent and attempting to keep the peace had only emboldened her disrespect. It was clear that direct confrontation or seeking my husband’s intervention again would not suffice. Her actions were a direct challenge to my identity and my place in this family, and I could not let it stand unaddressed.

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

As I stood there, facing her smug inquiry about dinner, a calm resolve settled over me. I knew that any response I gave now would only lead to more dismissals of my feelings and heritage. But I wasn’t going to play by her rules anymore. I wasn’t just going to find a way to cook with the limited ingredients I had or try to explain yet again why her actions were hurtful and unacceptable.

No, I had another plan.

A woman cooking | Source: Pexels

A woman cooking | Source: Pexels

With a clear objective in mind, I channeled all my frustration and determination into creating a masterful culinary strategy. My mother-in-law’s upcoming party, intended to be a grand social event, provided the perfect stage for my plan. She had envisioned this party as a showcase of her taste and sophistication, expecting a menu of classic American cuisine to appeal to her guests’ palates. However, I saw an opportunity to subtly introduce the very essence of my heritage that she had so vehemently rejected.

A dinner party | Source: Pexels

A dinner party | Source: Pexels

As I took over the kitchen to prepare the dishes for the party, I decided to infuse each “American” dish with a touch of Indian flair. The burgers were seasoned with garam masala, the potato salad hinted at cumin and coriander, and the apple pie was laced with cardamom. The transformation was subtle, enough to intrigue but not overwhelm, a culinary bridge between my world and hers.

A dish with potato salad | Source: Pexels

A dish with potato salad | Source: Pexels

The party was in full swing, with guests mingling and enjoying the ambiance. As they began to eat, their reactions were unanimous – surprise and delight at the unexpected flavors. One by one, they approached my mother-in-law with compliments, praising the innovative and delicious twist on traditional dishes. Each compliment was a testament to the universal language of good food, transcending cultural barriers and prejudices.

People enjoying a dinner party | Source: Pexels

People enjoying a dinner party | Source: Pexels

Caught off guard by the barrage of praise, my mother-in-law tasted the food with a critical eye, expecting to justify her disdain for Indian cuisine. However, the scene before her, a room full of guests genuinely enjoying the food, forced a change in perspective. The initial instinct to reject the unfamiliar flavors was overshadowed by the realization that her biases were unfounded. The food was not just accepted; it was celebrated.

People enjoying a meal | Source: Pexels

People enjoying a meal | Source: Pexels

This moment of revelation was pivotal for my mother-in-law. Witnessing the joy and satisfaction her friends experienced from the very cuisine she had scorned, she understood the futility of her resistance.

It dawned on her that her aversion to Indian food was merely a manifestation of her deeper biases against my cultural background. The reality that her son’s happiness was intricately linked to embracing his wife’s heritage finally broke through her stubborn prejudice.

People talking and laughing at a table full of food | Source: Pexels

People talking and laughing at a table full of food | Source: Pexels

The aftermath of the party marked a significant shift in our household dynamics. My mother-in-law’s acknowledgment of her misplaced animosity paved the way for a more harmonious coexistence. The tension that once permeated our interactions began to dissipate, replaced by a cautious mutual respect. Although this understanding did not erase all the challenges we faced, it was a crucial step towards reconciliation.

An upset older woman | Source: Pexels

An upset older woman | Source: Pexels

Despite the progress in our relationship, the arrangement of living together remained untenable for all involved. My mother-in-law, perhaps recognizing the need for space to allow our relationship to continue healing, decided to move to her daughter’s place. This decision was met with a collective sigh of relief, a necessary change that promised a fresh start for everyone.

A happy woman | Source: Pexels

A happy woman | Source: Pexels

In the end, the experience taught us all invaluable lessons about acceptance, respect, and the power of food as a unifying force. While the road to fully bridging our cultural divide would be long and fraught with challenges, the party served as a poignant reminder of the potential for change. It underscored the importance of looking beyond our prejudices and embracing the diversity that enriches our lives.

How would you have dealt with a mother-in-law like this? Let us know on Facebook!

New Father Kicks Wife With Newborn Twins onto the Streets, Years Later He Begs Her for Help – Story of the Day

A minted father who is unwilling to spend money to raise his newborn twins asks his wife to give up one baby for adoption. He kicks her out with the babies when she refuses and knocks on her door for help five years later.

It was a cold, rainy night, and Angie cradled her newborn babies at the bus stop. “Where will we go? Jesus, please help us. Shelter us as we wait out this rough night,” she cried, wiping warm tear droplets off her babies’ faces. Angie had nowhere to go, and her parents had died long back.

Suddenly, she sensed something creeping behind her and was terrified. Angie mustered the courage to protect her babies from whatever it was. “It’s a dog!” she sighed.

Angie never imagined her life would turn topsy-turvy overnight. She never thought her husband Jake, who she trusted and loved throughout their marriage, would kick her out with their babies just a week after their birth…

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

“How I wish my mom were with me today…Sorry, mama, I should’ve listened to you and not rushed with my marriage with Jake,” sobbed Angie, thinking about her late mom.

“You can stay in this house as long as you agree to keep just one baby or leave if you want to keep both. Decide wisely, dear.”

Angie met Jake after graduation five years ago. He was a young, handsome man, and she thought he was the one. They fell for each other in what would turn into a fairytale love story, but with one exception—there was no ‘happily ever after’ in Angie’s case.

Problems sparked in the fourth year of their marriage when she told Jake she was pregnant.

“But darling, you know I’ve just started my business. We have postponed baby planning all these years, and I am not ready to be a father yet,” Jake was upset when Angie showed him the two pink lines on her pregnancy test kit.

Jake’s reluctance to be a father showed he was unprepared for responsibilities. Poor Angie was torn between his disapproval of having children and her desire to have as many as possible. But was Jake prepared to know Angie was pregnant with twins?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I am okay with having a baby…you get it? I mean, one baby is enough,” said Jake as Angie walked into the ward for scanning. “I pray that you don’t come out and tell me we are having twins,” he joked, his mouth curved into an ironic smile. Moments later, fate joked back at him.

Angie came out, distressed and worried. She was pale while she was supposed to be blushing and smiling.

“What is it?” he asked her, impatient for her reply. “What did the doctor say?”

Angie swallowed her fear and spoke out, partly guessing Jake’s reaction. “Our babies are fine,” she said.

“Alright…wait, what…babies?” he exclaimed.

The scan Angie took minutes ago gave her a glimpse at two tiny lives growing inside her. She was pregnant with twins, and Jake was not happy about that.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Jake stormed to his car as Angie read his mind and pictured his frustrations. She was nervous and thought he had joked about having only one baby. But his reactions proved otherwise.

Jake grew distant from Angie day by day and focused only on making more money. She knew he was upset about having twins and assumed he would cool down with time. But it only worsened during her third trimester.

Angie was in the hospital, waiting for Jake to see their newborn twin baby girls. But he never showed up. He sent his maid and driver three days later to bring Angie and their babies home.

Jake did not want to get involved with his babies. He didn’t even welcome them home or hold them. He was unhappy and unprepared to be their father.

Angie returned home with her newborns that evening, knowing little about Jake’s condition. “We keep only one child and give the other up for adoption. If you are okay with it, we are a family. If not, you can leave the house with them,” he told Angie.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

At first, Angie thought Jake was kidding. He dragged her suitcase to the living room and placed it in front of her, indicating he was serious.

“I’m not ready to raise two children and burn a hole in my pocket. My business is fetching a lot of profits, and I need to focus on making more money…I don’t want to waste my time and wealth on raising two babies when I can easily raise just one,” he explained.

Angie was devastated. “They are our babies, Jake. How could you ask a mother to give up her baby? Are you out of your mind? Both my babies are our symbol of love,” she cried. But Jake was stubborn.

“My business has just started to flourish, and I don’t have the time to focus on family. I don’t want to waste my hard-earned money on two babies. You can stay in this house as long as you agree to keep just one baby or leave if you want to keep both. Decide wisely, dear,” he said, despite knowing Angie had nowhere to go.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

The poor mother’s choice was obvious. She took her suitcase and left the house with the babies. Jake’s greed for his newfound riches blinded his devotion to family. He failed as a husband and a father. But it didn’t matter to him.

Angie snapped to her present and found herself still deserted at the bus stop, cradling her babies. “Where will I go? Please help me, Jesus,” she cried and was disrupted by an intense beam of light rays.

“Hello there, are you alright? It’s raining heavily. Would you like a ride, my dear?” an older woman called out to her from a taxi. Angie looked up and saw a nun. She wrapped her babies in her jacket and approached the car.

“Oh my, how adorable your babies are!” exclaimed the nun. “Get in. I’ll drop you. Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know, Sister,” said Angie. “My path is dark, and I am lost. I don’t know which way to go. My babies and I were abandoned by someone dear to us.”

The nun understood Angie’s misery and immediately took her to the convent.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Angie and her daughters, Sophie and Marley, found a safe shelter to wait out the rough days of their lives. Angie taught in the school administered by the church. She also worked part-time in a restaurant, and two years later, she saved a good chunk of money to start her café.

Gradually, Angie was able to give her daughters a better life, though it could’ve been much better had their father been involved. Moreover, Angie did not regret her decision not wanting to divorce Jake. Deep in her heart, she hoped he would realize his mistake and come for them someday.

Five years passed, and Angie now had her own house. It was quite small yet comfortable. She spent the best years watching Sophia and Marley grow up.

There were times when Angie used to struggle without enough profits in business, but her faith and determination motivated her. She launched two more coffee shops in town, and gradually, her fortune grew. But in the other part of town, Jake’s business tanked.

He was drowned in debt, and everybody he sought financial help from refused to support him at the last minute. Jake knew how rich Angie was now and thought only she could help him.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

“Hey, how are you?” Angie answered the door one day when she least expected to see Jake at the doorstep. “Come in!”

Jake vaguely smiled and immediately apologized to Angie. “Darling, I’m so sorry for abandoning you. My greed to earn more money cost me big. I am bankrupt, and it’s the best punishment I deserve for kicking you out with our babies. Please forgive me, and please help me.”

Angie now understood why Jake had come. She had learned about his loss in business but never thought he would visit her and apologize, let alone ask for help.

Jake saw a photo of Angie with their daughters and cried. “I’m sorry, sweethearts. Please forgive your daddy,” he said. Angie’s heart melted, and though she knew Jake had come crawling for help, she was willing to do it because she still loved him.

“But darling, I will not be able to repay such a huge amount of money. I will need time. I was such a cruel husband and a heartless father. Are you sure you want to help me?” he sobbed when Angie gave him a check worth the money he wanted.

“The night you kicked me out, I learned what greed is and how it can ruin relationships. And today, I learned what forgiveness is. What are we going to achieve by holding onto our past grudges? Nothing! Everyone makes mistakes, but as humans, we must learn to forgive one another,” said Angie.

Jake realized his mistake and promised to take Angie and their kids back once he sorted his business issues. He wanted to be a good father to his children and compensate for the heartbreak Angie endured all these years.

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