When Tyler proposed to me, I thought our love was strong enough to overcome any obstacle. We’d started planning a small, intimate wedding with a ramen bar and a cosplay-themed photo booth – perfect for our quirky tastes. But things took a turn when I met his mom, Patricia. At first, she seemed lovely, showering me with compliments and asking about my work as a graphic designer. I was taken aback by her warmth, but I should have known better.
After dinner, Patricia asked Tyler to help her with something in the bedroom, and when they returned, Tyler looked like he’d seen a ghost. He told me his mom thought our engagement was a mistake, that I wasn’t “future material” because I liked cartoons and didn’t have enough money. He agreed with her, and I was stunned. How could the man who proposed to me just parrot his mom’s opinions without thinking for himself?
I decided to invite Tyler to a farewell dinner, not to beg him to stay, but to teach him a lesson. I planned a lovely evening with pasta, wine, and chocolate mousse. As we parted ways, I gifted him a tattoo voucher, something he’d always wanted. He was thrilled, thinking it was a kind gesture.
The next day, Tyler went to get his tattoo, and I had instructed my friend Devon, a tattoo artist, to design something special. Hours later, Tyler left the shop with a fresh tattoo on his back – “Property of Patricia — Mama’s Boy For Life.” I posted a photo of the tattoo on Instagram, and while my friends found it hilarious, Tyler was furious.
When he showed up at my apartment, pounding on the door, I opened it and looked him straight in the eye. “Nah, I’m just ‘not future material’ or ‘mature,’ remember?” I said, shrugging, and shut the door in his face. Patricia came by too, but I didn’t open the door.
Six months later, I heard Tyler had moved back in with his mom and was struggling to make ends meet. He’s still single, using dating apps with a bio that says, “Looking for someone who respects family values.” As for me, I’m dating Devon now, and we’ve discovered a new spark in our relationship.
In the end, Patricia was right about one thing – I wasn’t built for that future. But I sure designed a better one.
