At 37, I thought I could finally date in peace until my Mom crashed dinner with a list of rules… and somehow ended up on a date with my boyfriend.
I always knew I had a mom. But sometimes, it felt like my mom was my whole life. I was 37, but that didn’t stop her from asking me every single day:
“Are you wearing warm socks?” or “Are you sure he looked at you with respect and not… interest?”
She controlled everything. From when I should go to bed to what color I painted my nails.
Once, I ordered salmon delivery, and 20 minutes later, she called.
“Mom, are you spying on my house?”
“I just sat in the car nearby. In case of suspicious movement.”
She had binoculars. And a notebook. She called it “just in case.”
As a child, it was cute. At 20, it got annoying. By 30, I began to question our “normal.”
At 37, I met Theo.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t tell her right away.
It was my first grown-up secret. And, of course, it lasted exactly three days. Until Mom ruined everything.
But I’ll tell you that in a moment.
-I was preparing for my dinner with Theo. I baked a pie I found online, not from Mom’s sacred recipe book.
Even if it came out a bit burnt and the chicken was a little dry — those were my mistakes. My life.
I could already imagine my mother’s face if she saw the meal — a guaranteed explosion. I smiled quietly to myself while checking the candles.
She backed off for once. It felt odd, but I didn’t think much of it. Big mistake.
That night, Theo came over for the first time. He brought tulips, non-alcoholic wine (knowing I was tired after work), and a cake from the bakery I always visit during lunch.
Something warm and calm bloomed in my chest. We talked for hours. Laughed. Dreamed.
“Imagine… a little house by an old lighthouse,” he said.
“And in the basement — an archive of old love letters.”
“You’d preserve them, and I’d write new ones.”
Candles were burning low. Music hummed softly. He touched my hand.
“I thought after all the heartbreaks, nothing would ever happen again. And then you came along…”
From the closet. We froze.
“You’re not alone?” Theo shot me a look.
I got up. Opened the closet.
“Oh, hi! I was just checking if you’re storing things in your closet without lavender,” she mumbled, not even trying to sound convincing.
“You broke into my apartment?!”
“I was just making sure. Listening. Evaluating. I didn’t interfere!”
Theo, somehow, still managed to smile politely.
