For two years, I was tired to keep Mike and his family happy. But every meal I cooked and every spotless room I cleaned only seemed to remind them of what they thought I owed them.
So, this year, I decided it was time to show them just how much they’d undervalued me.
When Mike and I married two years ago, I thought I’d found my forever partner. We were happy, or at least I thought we were. Then, little by little, things started to change.
At first, it was the small things like Mike leaving his dirty laundry wherever he pleased or expecting me to handle the groceries. But then his parents, Maureen and Richard, began treating me like I had married into their family to become their unpaid chef and housekeeper.
The worst, though, was a few weeks ago. Maureen had called, announcing that she and Richard would be “dropping by for dinner.”
Dropping by, of course, meant staying for hours and criticizing my cooking.
Meanwhile, Mike just shrugged and said, “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”
But the love I had for him wore thinner with every passing day.
This brings us to Thanksgiving.
I knew it would be small because we’d just invited Mike’s parents and his two brothers. But even a small Thanksgiving meant a mountain of expectations for me.
Two weeks before the holiday, Mike decided to take his laziness to a new level.
He slid the last $20 bill we had across the table and said with a grin, “Here, make Thanksgiving dinner with this.”
I laughed. “Mike, $20? That won’t even cover a turkey.”
“Well,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “Mom always managed to make amazing dinners with no money. Figure it out. Don’t embarrass me in front of my family.”
I couldn’t believe it.
Instead, I dipped into my savings. The same savings Mike never knew about because he always assumed I didn’t need my own money.
I wasn’t just planning a dinner. I was planning a statement.
I ordered a catered Thanksgiving feast from the best place in town. We’re talking perfectly roasted turkey, creamy mashed potatoes, fresh-baked rolls, three kinds of pie, and even fancy cranberry sauce.
I also picked up beautiful table settings and decorations because if I was going out, I was going out with style.
The night before Thanksgiving, as I worked to set everything up, Mike walked into the kitchen with his usual smug grin.
“I knew you’d pull it off,” he said. “You’re lucky to have a husband who believes in you.”
Lucky? I almost laughed.
By the time his parents and brothers arrived, the party was prepared.
Finally, dinner was served. As they loaded their plates, the compliments started pouring in.
“This turkey is so moist,” one of his brothers said.
“The cranberry sauce tastes like it’s homemade,” Maureen added, her usual condescension replaced by genuine admiration.
Then, Mike raised his glass.
“To Alyssa, the best cook in the family!” he said.
I took a deep breath and stood, holding my own glass.
“Thank you, Mike. That means a lot. But I’d like to say a few words before we dig in.”
That’s when all eyes turned to me. The room fell silent as my gaze shifted from Maureen to Richard, and then to my dearest husband.
“This year, I wanted to make Thanksgiving truly special,” I began. “You see, Mike gave me a generous $20 budget to work with, so I had to get a little creative.”
Mike cleared his throat. “Honey, maybe now’s not the time—”
“Oh, I think it’s the perfect time,” I said, cutting him off.
“Because while I was cooking, cleaning, and making this house look perfect for you and your family, I also realized I deserve better. I deserve more than being treated like a maid or a personal chef.”
Maureen’s face turned red. “Alyssa, we’ve always appreciated you—”
I set my glass down and turned to Mike.
“Oh, and one more thing,” I said. “This is the last Thanksgiving dinner I’ll ever make for your family. You can figure out next year’s meal on your own. Maybe Maureen can teach you her magic. She can tell you how she manages to cook meals with no money!”
With that, I grabbed my purse and walked to the door, leaving behind a table full of stunned faces.
For the first time in a long time, I felt free. Thanksgiving was supposed to be a day of gratitude, and this year, I was thankful for one thing above all else: the courage to finally put myself first.
