Dear Prudence is Slate’s advice column. Submit questions here. (It’s anonymous!)
Dear Prudence,
My 42-year-old son has recently filed for divorce from his wife of 12 years, over her inability to have biological children. Personally, I feel that this is horrible and petty, and while I love my son, he’s not behaving well here. That is as it is, I have spent 17 years getting to know “Jasmine,” and had we met as coworkers or at the gym, I would have considered us friends, not mother-in-law and daughter-in-law. We get along well, and previously went on frequent outings together, in which we did not talk about her relationship with my son, but about everything else.
But, and there is always a but, I don’t want to take sides here. My son is entitled to his wishes and desires, but if this happened to some other couple, I would definitely support the woman here. Is there a way forward to include her in my life, should she want that? I wouldn’t want to cause her additional pain, as she was blind-sided by his request for a divorce by being a reminder of her “failed marriage.” I had thought to write an email, letter, or text saying I was still here and to write back when she was ready, if she wanted to stay friends. But I worry that makes it seem like I don’t want to be. Honestly, at the moment, I’d rather be her mother (who is still living and a positive maternal figure as it is), than my thoughtless son’s.
—Torn Up Inside
Dear Torn Up,
Please reach out to this woman, and don’t leave any room for doubt about how much you love her and want to maintain your relationship. Honestly, maybe even tell her the part about how you’d rather be her mother. She’s hurt and she needs you, and it sounds like you need her, too. On a practical level, as you age, you are going to need support and community and I would bet she’s much more likely to be there for you than your selfish and seemingly heartless son.
Dear Prudence,
I’m lucky to have maintained a group of childhood friends into my mid-30s even though we’ve never lived in the same place as adults. When we’re together, we revert back to girls at boarding school… for better or for worse. My closest friend is also the quirkiest in the group. Over the past decade, I’ve gotten into the practice of lending her clothes for extended periods. Once she came to visit and packed her bag full of homemade gifts, so I clothed her all weekend. Another time she stopped on her way to a colder climate and borrowed a jacket (she returned it a few months later at our mutual friend’s wedding). So when she accompanied her husband on a business trip to my city this summer and asked to borrow a formal dress for an event, I had no qualms about lending one. She is odd but not unreliable.
She recently announced to the group that her husband sold his business and they are going to travel globally for the next year and work as “digital nomads.” In preparation for the trip, they ended their lease, stashed some heirlooms with various friends and family, and liquidated all of their belongings that they’re not taking along, saying they’ll buy everything new when they come back. I bet you know where this is going… The whereabouts of my dress are unknown.
I asked about the dress as soon as I heard of their plans to sell everything. Once she admitted she didn’t know where, or to whom, the dress was given, I asked for a small repayment from the proceeds. She never responded to that topic. She’s well-off and gainfully employed, and I didn’t expect her to default on this loan. She profited from something that I’d loaned her—I should either get the dress or some money back, right? This is already making me resentful but I don’t want to lose a friend over it.
—Lonely Lender
Dear Lonely Lender,
The nerve of her! Your friend’s failure to repay you is only going to become more annoying when she starts posting from some beachfront location with the caption “office for the day” and talking about how her lunch was only $2, her hotel is only $30 a night, and the locals are so friendly. Of course, you should either expect to get the dress or some money back. Ask her directly one more time. If she doesn’t respond, I’m not saying you have to officially end the friendship. But the distance, her selfishness, and your justified irritation over this might do that work for you.
Dear Prudence,
I’ve always been a good planner, which has been more of a burden than a benefit. I’m a lawyer, and even though I work a ton of hours a week, my family always relies on me to figure out any plans we have coming up. The big issue is no one will give input but they will always complain about the choices I make.
Because of the requirements of my job, I don’t get to take much time off for vacations, and every time I do, I’m planning everything for everyone and making sure everyone is happy. I recently planned a trip to Europe for my husband and my retired parents. Even though my parents are retired, they did not take the time to read through any of the brochures or websites I sent them. They kept responding by saying that I always pick out good things and that I always know what people like, even though I did not have time to go through the information myself with the caseload I’m working on.
When we got to our vacation, everyone seemed pretty disappointed that I did not have an immediate game plan. I came up with ideas on the fly and it was a pretty exhausting day. All I wanted to do was relax and read the first night, but my family insisted on me finding a place they can go to that had live music. I found a place nearby and brought them there. They didn’t like the music and wanted me to find another location. I put my foot down and insisted we stay unless someone else figured out what we are doing. Afterward, they complained and said that I always “get my way” about where we go, and my husband backed them up! I am so busy trying to guess what people want to do, I never ever “get my way” on vacations!
I ended up blowing up at everyone. I went on strike for the rest of the trip and refused to make any decisions. Our trip was disjointed and everyone was disappointed. My family is mad at me and thinks I’m a little crazy for the blowup. I hardly want to see anyone right now. All I want is a vacation by myself, and to pay someone else to figure out how I do it. This isn’t the first time I’ve tried to manage expectations and failed. How do I get my husband and the rest of my family to participate in decision-making and take all of this emotional labor off my plate?
—Considering Moving to a Spa By Myself Forever
Dear Moving to a Spa,
Oh wow. You are so used to taking responsibility for other people that you think it’s your job to get your husband and the rest of the family to participate in decision-making. You don’t have to figure this out for them. You don’t have to get them to do anything at all. All you have to do here is decide what you want to do—no more than that. So, your angle is not “Everyone needs to get together and plan the next trip! I’m sending a Zoom invite so you can meet and figure it out. First agenda item: Taking emotional labor off my plate. Please be on time and remember to have your cameras and mics on.” Your angle is when someone asks “What are we doing for our next vacation?” to respond, “Not sure, I’m not able to plan it. But I am going to visit a friend for a week.”
Here’s the tricky thing about not taking responsibility for all the decision-making: It means you don’t get to choreograph family events to look exactly the way you want them to. You have to be at peace with the fact that if you don’t make plans, they might not get made at all. Retiring from your job as a camp counselor for all of these ungrateful and unmotivated people will feel great, but be prepared for it also to feel a little tough to give up the control you’re used to.
Catch up on this week’s Prudie.
More Advice From Slate
I have a friend who’s always been a little cheap with shared checks. If I throw my card down for ease and let people Venmo me, he’ll pay me, like, a conservative estimate of his portion (often short of the real total) and also not take tax or tip into account. I always kind of forget about this until he does it again. A few months ago, he estimated $25 when he owed me $40, and I was like, “Bro,” and he seemed perplexed and gave me the $40. I tell you all this because on our last hangout, it was just us, and through other conversation about COVID and his current joblessness, he reluctantly revealed he is an heir to one of the biggest family fortunes in America…
