Yulia stopped the car a block away from her mother-in-law’s house. The clock read 5:45 PM – she had arrived earlier than scheduled. “Maybe she’ll finally appreciate my punctuality,” she thought as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her new dress. The gift was carefully wrapped on the back seat – an antique brooch she had been hunting for among collectors for several months.
As she approached the house, Yulia noticed a slightly open window on the first floor. The ringing, clear voice of her mother-in-law carried down the evening street:
“No, Vera, can you imagine? She didn’t even deign to ask what kind of cake I like! She ordered some trendy dessert… My son has always loved the classic ‘Napoleon,’ and this one…,” a pause, “she doesn’t even know that. Seven years married!”
Yulia froze. Her legs felt as if they were glued to the asphalt.
“Of course, I told you – she’s no match for Slavik. He works around the clock at his clinic, and he’s home only sporadically. What kind of mistress would she be? Yesterday I dropped by their place – the dishes were unwashed, the flowers not watered… And she, you see, was performing a complicated operation!”
Inside, everything grew cold. Yulia leaned against the fence, feeling her knees tremble. For seven years she had tried to be the perfect daughter-in-law: cooking, cleaning, remembering every birthday, bringing treats when her mother-in-law was ill. And all this time…
“No, no—I’m not saying anything, but is that really a wife for my boy? He needs a real family, warmth, care… And she’s always off at conferences and on duty. And she doesn’t even think about children! Can you imagine?”
The ringing in her ears grew louder. Yulia mechanically took out her phone and dialed her husband.
“Slavik? I’m going to be a bit late. Yes, everything’s fine, it’s just… traffic.”
She turned and walked back to her car. Sitting behind the wheel, she stared at one spot. In her head, fragments of phrases accumulated over the years: “Maybe you’ll salt the borscht better?”, “In my day, wives stayed home…”, “Slavik is so tired from work, he needs special attention…”
The phone vibrated – a message from her husband: “Mom is asking, where are you? Everyone’s already gathered.”
Yulia took a deep breath. A strange smile appeared on her face. “Alright,” she thought, “if you want the perfect daughter-in-law, you’ll get her.”
She started the car and headed to her mother-in-law’s house. The plan crystallized instantly.
No more half-measures or attempts to please. It was time to show what a “real” daughter-in-law could be.
Yulia entered the house with the brightest smile she could muster. “Mama!” she exclaimed, embracing her mother-in-law with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Sorry I’m late—I stopped at three stores to buy exactly those candles for the cake that you love!”
Her mother-in-law froze in confusion, not expecting such assertiveness. “And I thought…” she began, but Yulia already went on:
“Oh, and guess what, on the way I met your friend Vera! Such a lovely woman, always telling the truth to your face, right?” Yulia gave her mother-in-law a meaningful look as she watched her turn pale.
At the festive table, Yulia outdid herself. She discreetly slipped the best pieces of food to her mother-in-law, loudly admired every word she spoke, and constantly asked for advice on running the household.
“Mama, do you think borscht should be cooked for five or six hours? And should the rugs be beaten in the morning or in the evening? Or maybe I should quit my job? Slavik needs a real family, doesn’t he?”
Her husband gave her a puzzled look while relatives exchanged glances. And Yulia continued:
“You know, I was thinking—maybe I should finish some homemaking courses? Give up that silly surgery… After all, a woman is supposed to be the keeper of the hearth, right, Mama?”
Her mother-in-law nervously tapped her fork on her plate. Her usual confidence was melting away with every minute.
“And of course, you must have children! Three, no—better five! I’ll stay home, cook borscht, darn socks… Slavik, dear, that’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Her husband choked: “Yul, are you feeling alright?”
“Perfect, dear! I just finally understood what a real wife should be. Right, Mama?”
Her mother-in-law stood up from the table. “I’m going to make some tea…”
“I’ll join you!” Yulia sprang up. “And you can tell me how to brew it properly. I’m such a clumsy one…”
In the kitchen, her mother-in-law abruptly turned to her. “What does all this mean?”
Yulia moved closer and said softly but clearly, “Don’t you get it? Maybe you should call Vera and discuss it?”
Her mother-in-law paled even further. “Did you… did you hear that?”
“Every word,” Yulia calmly poured the tea. “About the unwashed dishes, the conferences, about how I’m not right for your son… Very enlightening, you know.”
“I didn’t mean it like that…” her mother-in-law began to defend herself.
“Then what did you mean, Mama?” Yulia asked, for the first time that evening letting a hint of sarcasm seep into her tone. “That I’m a bad wife because I save lives instead of dusting? Or that I’m unworthy of your son because I have my own ambitions?”
Laughter echoed in the living room. Yulia lowered her voice:
“You know what’s funniest? I spent seven years trying to live up to your standards. Cooking, cleaning, remembering all your favorite dishes and allergies. Canceling important surgeries just to attend your family lunches. And all this time…”
“Yul, listen…” her mother-in-law tried to take her hand.
“No, listen to me,” Yulia said gently but firmly, freeing her hand. “I love your son. And he loves me. We’re happy together, despite all your attempts to prove otherwise. And you know what? I’m not going to pretend to be someone I’m not anymore.”
At that moment, Slavik stepped into the kitchen. “What’s going on here? Yul, you’re acting strange today…”
“Nothing, dear,” Yulia replied with a smile. “Mama and I are just discussing what a real wife should be. Right, Mama?”
Her mother-in-law fell silent, lowering her eyes. For the first time in all these years, she had no response.
A heavy silence hung in the air. Her mother-in-law nervously fiddled with the edge of her apron, unable to find words for the first time ever. Yulia calmly stirred the tea, watching the reaction of a woman who had spent years trying to “fix” her.
“You know,” Yulia finally said, “I spent a long time wondering why you treated me this way. Maybe I was doing something wrong? Maybe I wasn’t trying hard enough? But today, hearing your conversation, I realized—it wasn’t about me.”
Her mother-in-law looked up. “What do you mean?”
“The fact is, no one will ever be good enough for your son in your eyes. You don’t accept me—you can’t accept that your boy could be happy with someone other than you.”
“How dare you…” her mother-in-law began, but Yulia gently interrupted:
“Dare. Because I’m tired. Tired of pretending not to notice your cutting remarks. Tired of apologizing for the work I love. Tired of proving that I deserve to be your son’s wife.”
At that moment, Slavik peeked into the kitchen again. “What’s going on? Mom, everyone’s waiting for tea…”
“We’ll be right there, dear,” Yulia said with a smile. “Mama and I are just discussing some… family matters.”
When her husband left, Yulia turned to her mother-in-law. “You know what’s most interesting? I really did respect you. I admired how you raised Slavik, how you built a strong family. I wanted to learn from you. And you… you chose to see me as an enemy.”
“Yul, listen…” her mother-in-law tried to say.
“No need to justify yourself. Just know—I won’t be silent anymore. I won’t endure humiliation and try to live up to your unrealistic standards. I am who I am. A doctor, a wife, a person with strengths and weaknesses. And if that doesn’t suit you… that’s your problem, not mine.”
With those words, Yulia took the tray with tea and headed into the living room, leaving her mother-in-law standing, stunned, in the middle of the kitchen.
The next few days, a strange atmosphere reigned in the house. Slavik noticed that something had changed, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. Yulia no longer tried to please her mother-in-law, didn’t apologize for coming home late from work, and no longer felt the need to justify every decision.
At the family dinner the following Sunday, she arrived straight from the hospital, dressed in a business suit with a folder of case histories under her arm. “Sorry, dear,” she told her mother-in-law, “I didn’t have time to change. The emergency surgery ran over.”
Her mother-in-law opened her mouth for a customary remark, but hesitated as she met Yulia’s direct gaze. In that look one could see the calm dignity of a person no longer willing to apologize for who she was.
“How did the surgery go?” Slavik suddenly asked as he served his wife a salad.
“Difficult, but successful,” Yulia allowed herself, for the first time in a long while, to talk about work at the family table. “Can you imagine, the patient was only sixteen, and the pathology was so complex…”
“Maybe not at the table?” her mother-in-law habitually began, but Yulia seemed not to hear her.
“…we battled for every millimeter for five hours. But now the girl will be able to walk. In moments like these you understand why I chose this profession.”
Slavik listened intently, asking questions, while her mother-in-law sat silently, looking at her daughter-in-law as if for the first time.
Before her sat not the faulted woman who had spent years trying to meet someone else’s expectations, but a confident professional saving lives.
After dinner, when Slavik went off to make work calls, her mother-in-law unexpectedly asked, “How did you decide to become a surgeon?”
Yulia raised her eyebrows in surprise but replied, “When I was a child, I broke my arm. It was a complicated fracture, and everyone said—‘It’ll always be crooked.’ But the surgeon who operated on me… he worked miracles. I realized then—I wanted to be like him. To give people hope.”
“And are there many women in surgery?” her mother-in-law asked, this time without reproach, only with curiosity.
“Fewer than one would hope. Many are afraid they can’t balance work and family. Or they succumb to societal pressure…”
“Just as I once did,” her mother-in-law softly murmured, then fell silent, but Yulia had heard.
“What do you mean?”
Her mother-in-law remained silent for a long moment, as if gathering courage. Then she slowly said, “I too once dreamed of being a doctor. I even enrolled in medical school. But in my third year, I met Slavik’s father…”
She paused, lost in memories. Yulia waited, afraid to disturb this moment of unexpected candor.
“His parents were absolutely against their daughter-in-law working as a doctor. ‘A proper woman should devote herself to the family,’ they said. And I… I gave up. I abandoned my studies and became that very ‘proper woman.’ Perhaps that’s why…”
“Is that why you reacted so strongly to my work?” Yulia asked quietly.
“Perhaps… Seeing you doing what I only dreamed of… how you achieved success without sacrificing your family—it was painful. As if every success of yours highlighted my own weakness, my own inadequacy.”
“But you raised a wonderful son, built a strong family…”
“Yes,” her mother-in-law smiled bitterly. “But every time an operation is shown on TV, I wonder—could I have been there in the operating room? Could I have saved lives like you?”
A heavy silence filled the room. The two women sat facing each other, and for the first time there was no wall of misunderstanding or reproach between them.
“You know,” Yulia finally said, “it’s never too late to start something new. Perhaps not surgery, but… I know of some excellent medical training courses. Many of my colleagues teach there. If you’d like…”
“Do you really think someone like me, at my age?” her mother-in-law asked, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Why not? You’re a smart, energetic woman, and your experience could be very valuable.”
At that moment, Slavik returned to the room. He looked at his wife and his mother, who were engrossed in discussing the courses, with a surprised smile.
“What’s going on with you two?” he asked.
“You see, son,” her mother-in-law said with a genuine smile for the first time in a long while, “Yulia and I have finally started speaking the same language.”
Six months passed. Much had changed in the family’s life. To the surprise of all their acquaintances, her mother-in-law actually enrolled in the medical courses. At first, she was embarrassed to be the oldest in the group, but gradually she got involved, and now, with eyes alight, she recounted every lesson.
“Can you imagine,” she shared with Yulia over a cup of tea, “I actually remember so much from my time at the institute! And the new methodologies are simply fascinating… I mean, captivating,” she said, smiling sheepishly at her use of the English word.
Yulia was surprised to discover qualities in her mother-in-law she had never noticed before: a lively mind, genuine curiosity, and a willingness to learn. Increasingly, her mother-in-law asked Yulia about complex cases in her practice, listened intently, and even began reading the medical journals Yulia brought home.
One evening, when the three of them were sitting in the living room, her mother-in-law suddenly said, “You know, I want to apologize. To both of you.”
Slavik set aside his laptop, and Yulia looked up from her case files.
“All these years I tried to control your life, imposing my own ideas of what a family should be. But in reality… in reality, I was just envious. Envious of your freedom, your ability to live by your own rules. That you weren’t afraid to be yourselves.”
“Mom…” Slavik began, but she stopped him with a gesture.
“Let me finish. Yulia,” she turned to her daughter-in-law, “you taught me something important: it’s never too late to start living differently. And… thank you for that.”
A silence filled the room, but it was now a different silence – warm and filled with mutual understanding.
“By the way,” her mother-in-law suddenly added, “I’ve signed up as a volunteer in the children’s ward at the hospital. I’ll be reading stories to the little patients.”
“Really?” Yulia beamed. “That’s wonderful! I have a seven-year-old patient who is very lonely…”
Slavik looked at the two most important women in his life and smiled. They had finally found a common language – not one of culinary tips or housekeeping, but one that truly mattered: the ability to accept each other as they are.
And Yulia thought about how strangely life works: sometimes you just need to stop pretending to find real understanding. And that love isn’t about one person adapting to the other, but about both learning to accept differences and grow together.
