My Son Introduced a Woman My Age as ‘The Lady of the House’ – My Response Shocked Them

My Son Brought a Woman My Age, Saying She’s Now the Lady of the House – They Didn’t Like the Lesson I Prepared for Them
It all began the day my son Ryan said she was moving in with a woman who was roughly 20 years his senior. I kept quiet at first, but I had a strategy. To put it mildly, it was much too late by the time they recognized the consequences of their behavior.

All I wanted for years was to see Ryan happy and find a spouse who would love him just as much as I did. After my husband died three years ago, that need grew stronger.

However, I had no idea that my ideal would materialize in a way I could never have predicted.

I’ve been fortunate for the majority of my life. I was blessed with a devoted husband, two amazing children, and a warm, lively home.

Daniel, my husband, was the type of man who could bring stability and security to life. It was as though the earth had collapsed under my feet when he died three years ago.

I’ve tried my hardest to keep going forward ever since, despite the fact that some days are more difficult than others.

My daughter Bella has been a source of joy in my life. She has always been a trustworthy and diligent child of mine. She was proud to perform her best in school even as a little child.

When she graduated first in her class and got a fantastic job in a different location, it wasn’t shocking. Although I occasionally wish she would get married, Bella is currently unmarried and I have never had to worry about her.

She has always been capable and focused.

My youngest, Ryan, comes next. Ryan’s spirit has always been free.

He had no interest in school as a child. He spent most of his time playing video games, reading comic books, and having fun with his pals. It was like haggling with a mule back then to get him to do his schoolwork.

However, when he reached his late teens, something changed. Perhaps he simply realized he couldn’t make a living playing video games, or perhaps it was witnessing his pals become more serious about their futures.

Whatever it was, Ryan began to work hard for it. In the end, he received a diploma and found steady employment.

I was satisfied that he was responsible and making a living, even though he wasn’t going to be the next CEO of a tech business.

Traveling is now Ryan’s biggest passion. He’s constantly saving money for travel, discovering new locations, and coming back with tales of his exploits.

Even while I secretly wish he would spend more time considering his future and less time organizing trips, it still makes me glad to see him so enthusiastic about life.

I don’t mind that he’s still living with me at the age of thirty. Ryan’s presence has been consoling since Daniel’s death.

I want more for him, though, just like any mother would. I hope he finds happiness with someone. Someone with whom he could live.

Upon Daniel’s death, that desire only intensified. To be honest, it has nothing to do with wanting grandchildren. The desire is for Ryan to experience the same level of affection and collaboration as I experienced with Daniel.

I would occasionally ask him, “Ryan,” “Is there anyone special in your life?”

He would wave me away while laughing. “Mom, you’ll be the first to know.”

He told me about it when he got back from France, although I’m not sure if I was the first to hear.

One day at dinner he opened up.

“So, Mom,” he began, jabbing at his plate with his fork, “I met someone on my trip.”

“Really?” I gave him a look. “Tell me everything!”

He informed me that he met her in a Parisian art museum and that her name was Lydia.

His expression brightened as he remarked, “She’s smart, funny, and we just… clicked,”

“And what does she do?” Eager to learn more, I inquired.

She creates art collections for well-known customers. She has extensive understanding of the art world, and I admire her enthusiasm for her work.

“She sounds amazing!” I cried out. “When can I meet her?”

“Not yet,” he shook his head in response. “Mom, I want to be patient. Learn more about her first.

For me, that was sufficient. I had been dreaming for months that Ryan would show me this amazing woman.

I pictured her as youthful, lively, and vivacious. I was unaware that my expectations would soon be dashed in unexpected ways.

Ryan came to me smiling, months after he had first mentioned Lydia.

“Mom,” he murmured, his hands in his pockets as he stood in the doorway, “I think it’s time you met Lydia.”

“Really? That’s fantastic, Ryan. As I slapped my hands together, I was already seeing the young, intelligent woman who had captured my son’s affection.

“She’s free this Friday,” he revealed. “Maybe we could all have dinner together?”

“Of course!” I immediately agreed. “I’ll prepare lasagna. Lasagne is a favorite among all.

I made sure the house looked nice because I wanted everything to be flawless.

As a younger lady who loved Ryan and looked up to me as a mother figure, I pictured Lydia as vivacious and full of life. In order to look contemporary enough to keep up with the young pair, I even took out my nicest outfit and put my hair up.

I was so excited on Friday that I was hardly able to control myself. The doorbell rang while I was completing a salad, the lasagna was in the oven, and my best dishes were arranged on the table.

“That must be her!” I yelled.

As I wiped my hands on a kitchen towel, Ryan leaped up to answer the door. I was ecstatic, but as soon as I entered the living room, I stopped.

Lydia was standing there. However, she wasn’t the youthful, attractive woman I had envisioned.

She was an adult. If I had to guess, he was only five years younger than me.

She donned a stylish gown that exuded refinement, and her hair was groomed to perfection. She didn’t look like she should be dating my son; instead, she looked like she belonged at a wine-and-cheese party with me.

Ryan said, “Mom, this is Lydia,” with a proud smile.

“Hello, Celine!” Lydia smiled enthusiastically and held out her hand to greet me.

I muttered, “Hi,” and gave her a feeble handshake.

I was shocked, but Ryan didn’t appear to notice. As if nothing had happened, he brought Lydia into the dining room and they talked about their day.

I wondered if I had entered a another realm as I followed them in a trance.

Ryan seems excited to discuss their future plans as we sat down to dine.

“Mom,” he said. “I’ve been thinking, uh, Lydia’s going to move in with us.”

My water almost swallowed me. “Come on in? Alongside us?”

He said, “Yes,” as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It makes sense. Living together will save us money, and she can assist with the house.”

Lydia gave me a radiant grin as I turned to face her.

Her words, “I think it’ll be wonderful,” “I’d love to help out around the house and make things easier for you, Celine.”

I didn’t require assistance. For years, I had been doing a great job of running the house by myself. But Ryan went on before I could respond.

He went on to say, “It’s not just about saving money,” “Mom, I adore her. She seems like the one to me.

Every time he spoke of his love for Lydia, I was always delighted, but this time I was repulsed. How could a lady nearly my age make him happy?

The remainder of the meal was a haze. I grinned and nodded, but my mind was elsewhere.

I struggled with my emotions as I laid in bed later that night. Should I express my feelings to Ryan? If I did, would he listen? Would he push me away instead?

I kept thinking the same thing.

I could lose my son if I resisted this. The thought of losing Ryan was intolerable after losing Daniel. I therefore made the decision to let Lydia move in despite my reservations.

Everything appeared to be alright at first. I did my utmost to make Lydia feel welcome, and she was courteous and considerate. However, the fissures quickly became visible.

It began with minor annoyances.

Every morning, Lydia took over the restroom, giving me only a few minutes to get ready for the day. She exclusively cooked for herself and Ryan, using the items I bought, and she never asked if I wanted to come.

When she started remodeling, that was the last straw. Without my consent, she changed my favorite armchair with a chilly leather recliner and my comfortable flowery drapes with sleek, contemporary blinds.

I decided that enough was enough. I must speak with Ryan.

I expressed my worries later that night in the hopes that my son would comprehend.

“I feel like I’m losing my home,” I whispered to Ryan as we sat in the living room.

Ryan let out a sigh. “You’re overanalyzing this, Mom. Lydia is merely attempting to improve everyone’s comfort in the house.”

“Comfortable?” I raised an eyebrow in question. “She’s turning it into a space I barely recognize.”

When he said, “Mom, relax,” She simply wants to be in control of everything. It’s how she expresses her concern.

Lydia added, “Celine, I thought you’d appreciate the changes,” “The house needed a bit of an update.”

“It’s my house,” I firmly declared. “And I like it the way it is.”

Lydia, however, didn’t give up easily.

She casually mentioned over breakfast a few days later, “You know, Celine, you have a great basement.” It will be ideal for you. Or perhaps you might remain with your daughter, who is unmarried. You see, I was considering using the master bedroom when you’re gone because I need a space for my office.”

“Excuse me?” I gave her a wide-eyed stare.

Ryan remarked, “Mom, it’s not a bad idea,” “Lydia needs space for her work, and you’ve been saying Bella misses you.”

My son and his girlfriend asked me to give up the house Daniel and I had created together, and I couldn’t believe it as I looked at them.

I wanted to yell at Lydia to get out of my house, but I refrained. Rather, I did something unexpected for them.

I gave Ryan the house by signing it.

My phone rang a month later. Lydia was the one.

She said, “SO, THIS WAS YOUR PLAN?!”

As it happened, they had already received the first set of invoices, which included property taxes, utilities, and mortgage payments.

Ryan, as naive as ever, had been unaware that we still had payments to make, and Lydia had believed the house was paid off in full.

“Well,” I responded coolly, “you chose to be the housekeeper. Act like one now.

She argued, “You can’t do this!”

“Lydia, owning a home entails more than just remodeling. It’s all about handling things. Before asking me to turn over the house, you ought to have given this some thought. “Welcome to everyday life!”

Ryan and Lydia pleaded with me to return the house, so I did. However, the harm had already been done.

I had discovered the harsh reality of my son’s priorities. Even though I still adore him, I’ve made the decision to love myself more.