Coming Home to Find My Daughter Locked in a Filthy Attic — The Shocking Reason Behind My Mother-in-Law’s Actions

I Came Home to Find My Daughter Locked in a Dirty Attic — I Was Furious When I Learned Why My MIL Did It

Misha leaves their baby Mia with Greg’s mother Diane while she and her husband, Greg, travel for work. However, they are unaware of how ignorant Diane is about race. She overreached herself this time with their mixed-race child, Mia. What occurs when Greg and Misha discover the truth?

You know how it feels to believe you know someone, and then they do something so heinous it makes you want to punch them in the face?

That’s precisely what transpired with Diane, my mother-in-law. This is not merely a tale of miscommunication or wounded sentiments. No. It’s about someone showing their real selves in the most repulsive way imaginable.

Allow me to take you on a little tour of my family’s history.

I’m a black woman who is married to my white spouse, Greg. Together, we are parents to a lovely four-year-old girl named Mia. Although she has Greg’s smile, what about her warm skin tone and curls? Mine alone.

Naturally, there has been some awkwardness in Greg’s family regarding race. especially his mother, who is conservative. Small talk would always fly around regarding my daughter’s hair or how “so tan” she was for a toddler. They would laugh it off, but it always made me uncomfortable.

I made an effort to ignore it. They must be family?

Besides, Greg has always defended us against his mother. That’s why I’ve always found that quality in him admirable. Not on his watch, would he allow someone to treat Mia and me disrespectfully.

However, I simply thought that Greg’s family lacked knowledge.

While preparing toasted sandwiches for us one day, Greg remarked, “They’re getting better with the idea of us, Misha.”

“Greg, we’ve been married for six years,” I replied. “A long time ago, they ought to have become accustomed to the concept. Your mother’s foolish remarks are OK to me, but I don’t want Mia to hear them.”

With a “I hear you, honey,” he spoke. And I’ll keep trying all in my power to make my mum realize how dangerous it could be. I swear.”

I gave him credence. What more was there for me to lose?

But as I saw from what Diane did two weeks earlier, ignorance was the least of her transgressions.

Greg and I own a baked products company and sell our cheesecakes to cafes, restaurants, and coffee shops. We recently started finding new locations to sell our goods, so we had to spend a few days out of town attending meetings with possible new customers.

That’s why we requested Diane to watch Mia. I could tell my mother-in-law wasn’t overjoyed, even if she agreed.

“Yes, Misha,” she responded. “But Mia is unable to visit us. It must be at your location.”

I said, “Yeah, that’s not a problem, Diane,” appreciating that my child was not let to play as she pleased at Diane’s place.

“I’ll take care of your washing in the guest room. I assured her, “Don’t worry about a thing; I’ll freshen everything up.”

“Misha, ask Greg to bring me my almond milk. I am unable to consume the full-cream milk that you all insist on eating.”

“That’s right, Diane,” I rolled my eyes. “Anything else?”

With stiffness, she said, “I’ll text Greg.” Additionally, make sure the Pitbull is restrained before I arrive. He can be fed by someone else.”

She then ended the call.

Diane was difficult to control, but we had faith in her. She is, after all, Mia’s grandma. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything, it seems.

We had to shorten our trip, so we made plans to surprise Diane and Mia by returning home one day early. We were all ready for new contracts, and our meetings had gone smoothly.

In the car, Greg exclaimed, “We can finally build that fancy swing set for Mia.”

“We can do whatever we want, honey,” I replied.

I was quite eager to return. I couldn’t wait to see my little kid. When you spend even a few days apart from your child, you know how it feels. As the space between you gets less, your heart begins to race and all you want to do is give them a strong squeeze.

But there was a strange feeling when we pulled into the driveway.

Greg referred to Mia by her pet name, “I can’t wait to see my strawberry cheesecake,”

It was too quiet in the house. Usually, you could hear Titan, our Pitbull, pounding his paws or Mia laughing, but there was silence. While Greg proceeded to unpack the bags from the trunk, I circled around in the hopes of seeing Mia having fun with Titan.

I don’t know why, but I spotted a little light coming from the attic window when I looked up to the side of the house.

“What is that light on for?” To myself, I muttered.

Allow me to introduce you to our attic. Nobody goes there, especially small children. It’s small, packed with discarded items, and dusty. It had not been touched in months.

What then made the light on?

In the hopes that I wouldn’t run across Diane on my trip to the attic, I silently let myself into the house. I was curious to see what was happening. I thought that one of the TVs was on because I could hear voices somewhere.

I murmured to myself, “She must be snooping,” as I kicked off my shoes beside the stairway to avoid drawing attention to myself.

As I ascended the stairs, my stomach threw a curve. There was a gentle sound, like someone shifting in their sleep, when I got to the attic door. As I opened the door and ascended the three steps into the attic, my heart fell.

And there she was.

Mia. Slumbering soundly on tattered old blankets in the center of the dusty attic is my baby girl. My heartbeat became faster. What brought her here?

Whispering “Mia,” I hurried to her side and gave her a gentle shake. “Honey, wake up.”

She shifted, confusedly scratching her eyes with her small fists.

“What are you doing up here?” I enquired. We don’t go up to the attic, as you are aware. You are not permitted to ascend by yourself.

Half sleepy, my daughter glanced at me.

“Grandma told me I can’t show myself to her friends,” she began, shaking off her drowsiness with a steady tiny voice.

What?” I enquired.

Mia said it again, a little more clearly this time.

“Grandma said I had to stay up here because her friends would get scared if they saw me.”

It was as though I had taken a punch to the gut.

“What do you mean, scared?” I enquired.

She shrugged as though it didn’t matter.

“She said they don’t like girls who look like me…”

That’s when it suddenly hit me. My daughter’s grandma, Diane, my own mother-in-law, had brought her friends over to my house and made the decision that my child should hide in the attic.

due to the color of her skin.

After picking Mia up, I strode down the steps. I can’t even recall how I followed the speakers to the backyard. Diane was seated on one of the outdoor couches, though.

She had a glass of wine in her hand and was giggling. Her pals were seated around her, chattering away as though they were simply enjoying themselves.

However, it wasn’t. Not by a long shot.

“Diane,” I yelled as I hurried into their small gathering. The presence of her pals didn’t bother me. They required to hear everything.

“Why does Mia not attend your small party? Your friends would have been thrilled to see your grandchild, I’m sure.”

A few of the females exchanged quick looks.

Diane’s mouth fell open. She had the appearance of a deer struck by headlights.

With an uneasy glance at her pals, Diane answered, “Oh, uh, she was playing upstairs.”

“Up in the attic? On an unclean blanket? I enquired.

Diane remained silent.

“You were embarrassed by my daughter, so you locked her in the attic? due to the hue of her skin?” I went on.

Her buddies avoided making eye contact and shuffled uneasily.

“I didn’t confine her! I had assumed that she would feel more at ease upstairs.” stated Diane. “I didn’t think she would understand…”

“Understand what?” I interrupted her with a shout. That her own granny finds her repugnant? that the thought of your friends chatting with your granddaughter is intolerable to you?”

Diane’s mouth parted and then opened again, but nothing came out. She was quite aware that she had been discovered, as were her companions.

“Daddy!” Upon realizing that Greg was behind us, Mia sobbed.

I could tell he had listened to the whole thing by the expression on his face.

“Mom, I think you need to take your friends and leave,” he replied. “Now.”

But Diane said, “Greg.” “I’m having guests over. You honestly don’t think I’m going to throw them out. You have better etiquette than this from my upbringing!”

You did, but how could I pay attention to someone who behaves so badly toward my family? Mia is four years old, come on! And you locked her up in the loft? The loft? That is repulsive.

Diane’s pals stood up one by one and hurriedly left our house.

“How could you speak to me like this?” Diane questioned Greg. “And in front of my friends?”

“Just go,” Greg commanded.

She did, too.

I wasn’t done with Diane, though. This was not going to get away from her.

I sat in bed the following day, my laptop resting on my lap and a cup of tea in my hands. I immediately went to our neighborhood group on Facebook to find all the moms in the area who organize block parties and charitable events.

And I gave Diane a hard time.

The truth has to be known by all.

My spouse claimed that there was an instantaneous fallout. Diane continued to send him texts. Overnight, the neighborhood turned against her. She was reportedly kicked out of a few private conversations as well.