At 37, I thought I finally had my life together—work I loved, friends who felt like family, and a relationship that seemed right. Theo was kind, thoughtful, and made me feel truly seen. But when it came to my mom, things got complicated.
She had a history of overbearing behavior—tracking my phone, “coincidentally” showing up wherever I was, even once hiding in my closet during a date. But nothing compared to the night she barged into dinner with Theo, slapped a paper on the table, and handed him her “RULES FOR DATING MY DAUGHTER.” Seventeen bullet points. Theo handled it with grace—until he hit the “no hand-holding” rule. Then he stood, thanked us both, and left.
Days later, he called with a surprise: “I’m taking you both out.” That weekend, he won her over with literature debates, a picnic, and even diving into a lake to pull her out when she slipped. My mom actually laughed.
Two months later, Theo proposed—with a list titled Reasons I Love You. At the bottom: “Not even your mom’s rules could scare me away.” I said yes.
