My husband’s mother, Maria Ortiz, seems unable to understand what I’m saying. My husband Ryan Ortiz mentioned he wanted shrimp, so we had shrimp for every meal for an entire month. Ryan’s sister Ivy Ortiz said she wanted potatoes, so we had potatoes with every meal for a whole week. But when I said I was allergic to peanuts, Maria filled the dining table and refrigerator with peanut butter. That’s when I realized she was just selectively deaf to what I said. ***** After her husband passed away, Maria lived alone in a remote countryside area with poor transportation and limited medical facilities. I felt sorry for her. Ryan often hinted or directly mentioned how difficult his mother’s life was, suggesting we let Maria move in with us. I’m not a selfish person, so I agreed to Ryan’s proposal. Initially, Maria was wonderful. She helped with housework and kept the house spotless. Later, Ivy moved in too after her divorce. One evening while we were watching TV, Ryan suddenly said, “Mom, I’d love some shrimp, but unfortunately Josie’s allergic to seafood.” I knew Ryan wasn’t asking Maria to make shrimp for him—he was just expressing regret to his mother. I’m not sure if it was my imagination, but Maria glared at me, as if blaming me for being unfair to her son. I thought I must have been mistaken. After all, Maria had been with us for three months and treated me well, even washing my underwear for me. “It’s okay, since you want it, I’ll make it. I’ll just prepare two separate dinners tomorrow,” Maria said. Ryan’s eyes lit up. He knew about my seafood allergy and hadn’t eaten seafood since we got together. I didn’t stop Maria. Before she came, Ryan and I didn’t eat shrimp at home simply because we didn’t want to cook multiple dishes. But I was still worried about my allergy, so I reminded her, “Maria, please make sure to wash your hands thoroughly when cooking, and don’t use the same pot that cooked shrimp for other food.” I didn’t mean anything by it—I just absolutely cannot come into contact with seafood. Maria smiled and nodded repeatedly, “I know.” The next day I went to work feeling reassured and didn’t think much about it. But when I came home that evening and saw the table covered with shrimp dishes while all I had to eat was a single spaghetti salad, I felt pretty down. Ivy and Ryan were devouring their food. Ryan didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with me eating only salad. I’d been working overtime at the company recently and hadn’t had time for lunch, so I was really hungry. But thinking about how hard Maria had worked cooking for so long, I couldn’t bring myself to ask for more. So I just swallowed my disappointment and started eating the salad. But the moment I took my first bite, something felt wrong. I immediately put down my fork and demanded, “Maria, did you cook the spaghetti in the same pot?” Maria continued eating nonchalantly and said, “Using two burners would waste too much money, and at my age, washing two pots is exhausting. You don’t do housework, so you wouldn’t know.” She only considered how hard it was for her to cook. “If you’re going to be so picky, cook for yourself. Why are you always bossing my mom around?” Ivy snapped angrily. Ryan just kept eating. Maybe sensing the tension, he said to me without looking up, “Just eat it. We didn’t make you eat shrimp, so you’re fine. Why make such a big deal out of it?” Then he turned to Maria, “Mom, could you make garlic shrimp for me tomorrow?” Maria immediately nodded in agreement. So Maria was just selectively deaf to what I said.
That evening, I quickly broke out in a large patch of red rash all over my body, itching unbearably. I looked at Ryan sleeping soundly and kicked him awake with my foot. “What’s wrong? I’m trying to sleep.” Ryan rubbed his eyes, clearly annoyed at being woken up. Before we got married, Ryan always put my feelings first. I never expected him to show his true colors so quickly after the wedding. I was furious. “I’m having an allergic reaction! Take me to the hospital now!” I knew my body too well. The allergic reaction was just starting, but soon I’d have trouble breathing. When I was little, I nearly suffocated from a seafood allergy. After that incident, our house never had any seafood again. For the sake of my health, even my dad, who loved seafood so much, gave it up completely. He was afraid that if he secretly ate some, even his breath might trigger my allergies. I had told Ryan about my allergy history. Ryan rolled over and buried his head under the blanket. “This is so annoying. Just find some medicine and take it. You only had one bite – it can’t be that serious.” I kept scratching my arms and neck, watching the situation get worse and worse. I shouted angrily, “I told your mom not to use the same pot she cooked shrimp in to make other food. Didn’t she understand what I said?” My voice must have been too loud because Maria and Ivy pushed open our bedroom door. They must have heard what I just said. Maria stood in the doorway looking aggrieved. “Is it wrong for me to do housework for you? My son married you, and now he can’t even have the freedom to eat seafood? You look fine to me – you’re just being too delicate. How serious can an allergy be? It’s not like it’s going to kill you.” Ivy chimed in, “Since you married into the Ortiz family, you should listen to us. Stop making trouble – we need to sleep.” Seeing their coldness, I felt desperate, but I no longer had the strength to argue with them. I could barely speak clearly and could only keep repeating, “Please… take me to the hospital.” Ivy loved stirring up trouble, Ryan couldn’t solve problems, and Maria only made things worse. Maria looked at me with disdain and said, “You young people are so delicate. I’ve lived most of my life and never seen anyone allergic to seafood. I work hard doing housework for you every day – I might as well go back to my hometown.” I collapsed directly onto the floor, but Maria wasn’t panicked at all. She kept talking as she walked out, “Josie must have caught some weird disease. Eating some dirt will cure it.” In my desperation, I quickly sent my mom a text: [Come to my house, emergency] My consciousness was getting hazier and hazier. Maria actually started shoving dirt directly into my mouth, and a fishy, foul smell exploded in my mouth. I wanted to vomit but had no strength, feeling like the vomit was already blocking my airway. “What are you doing!”
Only when I heard my mother’s voice did I finally feel safe enough to pass out. I never imagined the family I married into would be this terrible. When I woke up, my mother was looking at me with concern. Maria and Ryan were also in the hospital room, though their faces still looked rather grim. My mother was both heartbroken and furious. After confirming I was okay, she began scolding Ryan harshly. Out of politeness, she didn’t directly confront Maria. She turned to Ryan: “Ryan, I entrusted my daughter to you, and this is how you take care of her? Do you realize that if we’d gotten to the hospital any later, my daughter could have died! “And how dare you stuff dirt into my daughter’s mouth? Don’t you have any basic medical knowledge?” My family was much wealthier than Ryan’s. Initially, my mother didn’t approve of me marrying Ryan, who had nothing to his name, but Ryan was quite the smooth talker. He would visit my parents every holiday, treating them even better than his own biological parents, which finally convinced them to agree to our marriage. Ryan had always been humble in front of my parents, especially since he worked as an executive at my family’s company. Faced with my mother’s accusations, he didn’t dare say a word. Maria couldn’t accept my mother’s criticism, but put on a pitiful act: “It’s all my fault. Please don’t be angry. I absolutely won’t do this again. I was just trying to help, but I ended up making things worse.” Seeing their seemingly sincere attitude, my mother couldn’t say much more. Besides, I was already married to Ryan, so it wasn’t appropriate for her to interfere too much. She could only give a few more warnings and make Ryan promise this would never happen again before feeling comfortable enough to leave. After my mother left, Ryan casually sat down, crossed his legs, and started playing games on his phone. He didn’t mention a word about how his mother had nearly killed me, not even a single complaint about Maria. I felt disappointed and began questioning for the first time whether I had married the wrong person. Maria put on an attentive act, constantly apologizing to me: “It’s all my fault. Why didn’t you tell me you were allergic to shrimp? I really made a terrible mistake.” I was stunned. I had been ready to forgive Maria, but while her words sounded like an apology, she was actually blaming me. I clearly remembered that from the very beginning, I had told them I was allergic to seafood and couldn’t touch any of it. She acted as if she couldn’t understand what I was saying and continued doing things her own way. I remained cold toward Maria until I was discharged from the hospital. I thought that after this lesson, even if Maria couldn’t completely change, she would at least avoid making such basic mistakes again. But when I came home from work, I saw a table full of shrimp dishes, and this time there wasn’t even a pasta salad for me. Anger surged through me instantly, and I said with displeasure: “Are you trying to starve me?” Maria paused for a moment, feigning surprise: “I thought you’d eat at the office, so I didn’t make anything for you. It’s fine though, you can have a little if you’re hungry. People say that eating more builds up antibodies – you just haven’t eaten enough.” I was so angry I couldn’t speak. If allergies could be cured by eating more, would all those people who died from allergic reactions worldwide have died simply because they didn’t eat enough? So Maria really couldn’t understand what I was saying. One second she was making promises, the next she was doing whatever she wanted. I stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door, but I could hear Ivy complaining: “Just because her family has some money, she thinks she’s so great? Nobody cares whether she eats or not!” Maria sighed: “How did I become the outsider here? I was just trying to help. Hospital stays are so expensive. Ryan works so hard to earn money – how can Josie be so inconsiderate?” Throughout all of this, Ryan didn’t say a single word. Having gone a whole day without eating, I was so angry that I completely lost my appetite. That night I was still angry and wouldn’t let Ryan into the room. Holding his pillow, he said with annoyance: “It’s not like I told my mom to make shrimp. If you want to eat something, go make it yourself. Someone else cooks for you and you’re still so picky!” Ryan slammed the door loudly, and lying in the bedroom, I felt nothing but hurt. I wanted to cook for myself too, but when I opened the refrigerator, all I saw was shrimp. The kitchen was also a complete mess – Maria seemed to have used every single piece of cookware, as if she deliberately didn’t want me to eat anything other than shrimp. I complained to my mother, who could only sigh: “There’s nothing we can do – this is just how mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationships are. You can’t get divorced over something like this, can you? I’ll transfer you some money so you can eat out.” My mother’s thinking was still somewhat traditional – she believed that once a woman got married, she couldn’t get divorced. I felt helpless, but I kept remembering how good Ryan used to be to me. I thought I could endure it a little longer, and once the dividends came in, I could buy a house and move out. What made it even more ridiculous was that we had shrimp for every single meal for an entire week. Thankfully, my mom transferred some money to me, and with the urgent company project, I didn’t have the energy to deal with Maria anymore. But I could still hear Maria saying, “Making money is so hard these days, yet she’s eating out at restaurants. She’s really not frugal at all.” I shot back, “When you stop making shrimp, I’ll come back to eat.” Ryan said, “Mom, I’m really sick of shrimp too. Can we have something different tomorrow?” Ivy chimed in, “I’ve been craving potatoes lately. Mom, how about making some potato curry tomorrow?” I knew Ivy and Ryan weren’t siding with me—they were genuinely tired of shrimp too. How could such a selfish family ever care about anyone else’s feelings? Maria immediately agreed with a smile. The next day, when shrimp finally disappeared from the table, I could only find it amusing. Her daughter’s and son’s words were unbreakable commands, while mine meant absolutely nothing. I was getting really tired of restaurant food lately. Without saying anything, I sat down to eat with them. But I never expected that when Ivy said she wanted potatoes, Maria would actually make potatoes for an entire week—mashed potatoes, baked potatoes, potato gratin, and french fries. In the morning, I wanted some toast. I usually spread blueberry jam on it, but after searching everywhere, I discovered that my nearly full jar of blueberry jam had vanished. I called out loudly, “Maria, where’s my blueberry jam?” Maria poked her head out of the kitchen and replied carelessly, “It went sour and was definitely spoiled, so I threw it out. There’s peanut butter there, isn’t there? It tastes much better than your blueberry jam.” Sure enough, there was a jar of peanut butter in the fridge. I was so angry my hands were shaking. “Maria, I told you I’m allergic to peanuts!” Maria froze for a moment, looking at me like I was some kind of monster. “Why are you so picky? Your parents just spoiled you too much. You’re just being a picky eater—why use allergies as an excuse?” I slammed the refrigerator door shut in anger. My previous hospitalization due to allergies was as if it had never happened. I went to work angry and hungry that morning. When I came home that evening, the table was still covered with the potato feast. I was used to Maria not listening to me by now. I knew that no matter what I said, she’d have an excuse to argue back. I opened the fridge, thinking I’d make myself something, but the scene inside made me gasp. There were a hundred jars of peanut butter. Besides peanut butter, there wasn’t even a carton of milk in the fridge. I immediately spun around, my eyes red with fury. “Didn’t I tell you I’m allergic to peanuts? Can’t you understand what I’m saying?” As soon as Ivy heard me talking to her mother like that, she immediately stood up. “How dare you talk to an elder like that? Just because your family has money doesn’t mean you can disrespect people like this! We have human rights too. You’re an outsider to the Ortiz family anyway—how dare you yell at my mom?” Maria quickly pulled Ivy back, acting like I had bullied her, saying tearfully and pitifully, “Josie, I know you look down on my family, but you’re Ryan’s wife now. Your parents have money and indulge you—you spend hundreds of dollars on a jar of blueberry jam. Now that I’m your family too, I certainly have the obligation to help cure your picky eating habits.” These words made me sick. Help cure my picky eating habits? So in her eyes, my allergies were just excuses for being a picky eater? I looked at Ryan. “Are you dead? Your mom is ignorant and can’t tell the difference between being picky and having allergies, but don’t you know?” I still remembered when Ryan and I were dating, he took me out to eat, and I accidentally consumed something with peanuts and went into shock. Ryan had heard about my seafood allergy, but he witnessed my peanut allergy firsthand. Ryan lowered his head. “Just don’t eat it then. There’s food on this table for you—can you stop arguing? My mom is getting older, can’t you be more understanding?” I should have known Ryan wouldn’t defend me. Looking at the table full of things Ivy loved to eat, I suddenly felt the urge to flip the whole table over. But I suddenly held back. Since Maria couldn’t understand what I was saying, and Ivy and Ryan both thought Maria was doing this for my own good—one person can never truly understand another person’s feelings. I used to complain to Ryan about whether Maria was targeting me, and Ryan would always say I was being paranoid, telling me his mom had lived a hard life and asking me to be more understanding. I laughed. Was her hard life because I married Ryan? Since Ivy and Ryan firmly stood by Maria’s side, I’d let them experience what I was going through. I suddenly smiled. Just moments ago, I was furious enough to tear the roof off, but my sudden smile left all three of them puzzled. “Maria, I was too angry just now and acted impulsively. You’re right—you’re doing this for my own good. What would this family do without you?” Maria was first surprised, then immediately became smug, saying, “It’s good that you can admit your mistakes. Don’t think I’m being nosy—you’re just too willful and need to change.” I suppressed my anger and disgust, nodding repeatedly in agreement. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll definitely change from now on.” Ryan also nodded with satisfaction and smiled at me. Ivy rolled her eyes and said, “You’d better know your place in this house and stop bringing your spoiled attitude home. We don’t want to serve a princess.” I sneered inwardly. Go ahead and gloat all you want. I’d like to see if they could still be so magnanimous when Maria started targeting them.
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