inlawsFor starters, I’m not exactly a smooth talker when it comes to people who are traditional and reserved, especially for someone of my lineage. I’m by no means “old school” when it comes to the Asian background and traditions of being that submissive wife who does what she’s told. In fact, I’m quite the opposite meaning I am very brutally, and disturbingly opinionated and open with my thoughts and feelings on any given subject matter. I am that girl that you never wanted your son to get tangled up with, let alone get married to, and am by no means the kind of girl that is for the faint of heart. However, here I am. We’re getting married and there’s not a thing in the world that can stop it short of an untimely death of one or both of us.

I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I don’t give a fuck what you think about me, because you’re going to be a part of my life even if we don’t see eye to eye. So, we can leave that unspoken the majority of the time, unless of course I feel that you need to be reminded as you judge me before knowing the whole truth about the crazy bitch your first born fell in love with. Maybe crazy isn’t the correct terminology, but rather far more experienced in this thing we call life, that clearly my beloved has been greatly sheltered from on some levels. I’ve had a rough road, the ones that many don’t ever have the pure joy of experiencing which leads me to believe that he and I couldn’t be a better made match made in heaven, or hell for that matter. He’s the Bartleby to my Loki.

Truth is, as you found out from his best friend, yes, I have been married before. Three times. Yes, I do have children, 5 of them. I do indeed have one hell of a past that could be described as “unfortunate” for the sake of keeping the cursing to a minimum. I’m sure there are all kinds of whys and so on as to why I am divorced times three, but just to throw it out there, they are all VERY justified. My first husband happened when I was 17, I was a kid having a kid and didn’t have the slightest clue as to what marriage was all about. My second marriage was semi forced as he and I had children together, and his mother pushed and urged us to do “the right thing”. My 3rd and greatest disaster was because I truly did love the man with all my heart, until I had enough of being beaten, raped, and broken down mentally and emotionally. Let’s not forget the baby he was having with another woman while we were married that I found out about. You know, just to clear the air about that. Judge how you will, but I have it documented, and countless witnesses as to the hell I have been through.

I’m a recovering alcoholic and addict of several drugs. I’m a writer. I’m a retail worker with a shit job. I’m a lot of things, but above all, I am a human being. I am a girl that loves your son with every fiber of my being, even if how I used to live my life isn’t pretty. Can I promise that I will never fall back into those kinds of things? No, I can’t. I’m not ashamed of that, but I do not use it as a crutch to dodge being held accountable for my actions. No, I don’t have custody of any of my children, but I do not feel that any of that makes me a bad mother. It makes me a mother who knew, and still knows my own shortcomings and despite my substance induced delirium was still able to make sure that those children weren’t in the center of my chaos and uncertainty. I have an ex husband who still very much loathes me, but adores me at the same time for having some sort of sense in my skull to do what was best for them. You don’t have to worry your head about your son aiding me in producing a spawn that would likely be just like me, as I can no longer have children.

Brace-yourselves-mother-in-law-I’ve heard that you weren’t so fond of my series “Breaking the Bottle”, and that’s fine. I don’t expect you to jump for joy that your son is marrying someone of unequal social and academic standing. The thing is that it’s a story of a screwed up part of my life that I choose to turn into a positive, and learn from. It’s a series of bad choices and experiences that I refuse to let define me and drag me down. It’s about the hard facts of my life that I choose to be inspired by and use as a tool to hopefully one day advocate and counsel others through, to help and lift up those who are struggling. It’s an effort to shed light on something that many don’t even want to talk about, let alone own up to.

Most importantly, I do what I do and say what I say because I refuse to be a church mouse and pretend like these things aren’t real. Fact is, you’re probably disgusted with me right now putting this in a public forum or whatever, and really, that’s fine. I won’t lose any sleep at night over it. You can think and feel what you want, and whatever it is, I am sure I would feel the same if it were a child of my own marrying someone with such an atrocious past. I understand fully. Just know, that I have fought tooth and nail to be where I am now, to be clean, sober, and responsible. I’ve put in blood, sweat and tears into becoming a better person. I’m no stranger to adversity and struggle, and for that I am adored and loved my few, but those few are the ones that matter, your son included.

I guess to summarize all of this, I hope you’re able to maybe be a little more understanding and can realize that not all people who have had a bad life are bad people today. I sincerely hope that you end up being happy that your son is such a compassionate and understanding person who loves on a level that is so unconditional that’s quite rare. In all honesty, you should be proud. I personally feel blessed to have him in my life.

Rest assured that in the end, I’ve learned loyalty and strength the hard way. Nothing about me is superficial or fake. Nothing and no one got me where I was, or where I may end up but myself, good or bad. I will not shy away from your persecutions and cower before you even if you think I am the scum of the earth. Why? Because in the end, our relationship, our marriage will not now, or ever be based upon who I used to be, but who I am, and who WE are as a couple. Your opinions are just that, and in the end hold no real substance or bearing on the success of our relationship. It’s ours, and you can’t take that away even if you decided to try. Besides, isn’t being kind of traditional for there to be discord between the “in-laws” and the “wife” anyways? I’d sure hate to break tradition, because clearly I’ve never done that before.

All My Love,

Your wretched daughter-in-law to be

About the author

Peony Ann

I am a mostly misunderstood child of the corn, born and raised in rural Illinois turned self-proclaimed writer with random, yet passionate opinions and views. It seems that I am self-taught because I was a stoner slack ass in high school who thought it’d be better to fuck around and see what kind of trouble I could make rather than to concentrate on a formal education. Who uses algebra in a corn field anyway?

My mission in life is to be me, be happy, and FTW if they don’t like it. I used to know what I really wanted in life. Since I was 5 years old, all I wanted was to be married to the same woman my entire life, be a doctor, a writer, to have a litter all my own, and to be the “token ‘hot’ Asian” in most settings. I just wasn’t sure how I felt about being a boy, because girls were just so much prettier. Now, as I approach my dirty 30, I have accomplished only one of those things successfully because, well, I’m Asian and we breed like rabbits, resulting in my litter of 5.

I aim to please, entertain and boggle with “WTF?!” moments. I even throw around a little poetry. Some will find me apPAULing, others hilarious, and some would maybe even call me a messed up kind of special. Those are the ones nearest and dearest to me who paid for all of those bibs, large crayons, and the occasional straight jacket to provide my short bus driver with for her own protection. Oh, and the ones who supported me through the transformational surgeries from Paul to Peony. I just wanted to be a delicate fucking flower, is that so wrong? P.S. I love my new tits!