For over a decade, my husband, Tom, had gone on the same family vacation—to the islands, for a full week, every single year. And every year, I stayed behind with our kids.
I had asked, many times, why we couldn’t go. His answer was always the same. “My mom doesn’t want in-laws there. It’s just immediate family.” And when I pushed about the kids? “I don’t want to spend the whole trip babysitting.”
It never sat right with me. But I swallowed my feelings. Until this year.
A week before his trip, I couldn’t take it anymore. While Tom was at work, I picked up my phone and called my mother-in-law directly.
“Why don’t you allow Tom to take us on vacation? Don’t you consider us family?” I asked, my voice shaking with years of frustration.
There was a pause. Then she said, confused, “What are you talking about, dear?”
I gripped the phone tighter. “The trip. Every year. Tom says you don’t want in-laws there.”
Silence. Then—
“My husband and sons haven’t taken a vacation together in over a decade. We stopped doing those trips when Tom got married.”
