My mum pretends to be ill so she wont have to work and just lives off us
My mum has never had even the slightest interest in working. Back when my dad was alive, it wasnt really an issuehe sorted everything, brought in the money, and she just stayed at home, happy in her role as a housewife. But now, since he passed away, she seems to think its down to me and my wife to look after her. And, well, it doesnt sit right with us at all.
Mum got married really young, just nineteen. Dad was six years older, already had a degree, a steady job, earning enough for the family to live comfortably without a care in the world.
She used to go on about how romantic their story waslove at first sight, the whole fairy tale sweep-you-off-your-feet bit, like it was straight out of a book.
And I believed it until I turned fifteen. Then, I started to realise the truth: Mum had zero interest in studying or building a career. Getting married was her way out, her ticket to an easy life with no real responsibilities.
She got pregnant pretty quickly, had me, and immediately announced she wanted to look after me full-timeno nursery, no childminder, absolutely no outside help. Dad, being proud and overprotective, happily gave her the life she wanted without a word of protest.
I never set foot in nursery myself, but I wasnt a difficult child. Mum would plonk me in the sandpit out the back, and Id amuse myself for hours. Shed hand me some toys and Id be off, hardly bothering her at all.
Not once did she try to pick up any skills, learn something new, or get a qualification. No degree, no expertise, never worked a single day outside of being a housewifeshe used to call herself a professional housewife and was actually proud of it!
I never criticised her choices. If Dad was okay with it, it wasnt my place to say otherwise.
But when Dad died, her whole world turned upside down. She didnt even try to arrange the funeral or handle the paperworkshe just lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, repeating, What am I going to do? How will I survive?
At first, I assumed she was genuinely grieving. But after a while, it became clear: it wasnt losing Dad that shattered her; it was the loss of financial security.
Dad had left her with a bit of savings, but it was obvious that wasnt going to last forever.
About six months after he died, she came up with this brilliant schemesell our three-bedroom house and use the money to buy two small places: one for her, one for me. Her plan? Rent my place out so she could live off the rental income.
In her head, perfect solution. In reality, pure fantasy. The money from the sale wouldnt even come close to buying two separate flats. Even if it had worked, why should I give up my future so she could continue doing nothing?
My wife and I are still paying off our mortgage. We simply cant afford to prop up someone elses lifestyle. So I told her, straight up: Mum, youre an adult now. Its time you found a job.
She protested, but reluctantly she got work at the little Co-op down the road. And then began the endless drama.
Every phone call became a litany of complaints: Im worn out! My legs are killing me! I just cant keep going like this!
Week in, week out, shed ring me in tears, begging for help and saying she couldnt cope.
Then last winter, she had a genuine accidentslipped on some ice, broke her leg. Two months in a cast, stuck at home. Unsurprisingly, her employer let her go. And who picked up the slack? Us, of course.
We ended up paying her rent, her shopping, her prescriptionsthe lot. What were we supposed to do?
But once shed recovered, she suddenly came down with a never-ending list of illnesses.
High blood pressure. Migraines. Back pain. Dizziness. Anything you can think ofshe claimed she had it, or so she said.
She had some tests done; nothing serious came up. But she played her part so convincingly, we kept giving her money, feeling guilty at the thought of leaving her to fend for herself.
Until Id just had enough.
This month, I hit my limit. I paid her bills, gave her £1,000, and told her straight: This is the last time. From here on, youre on your own.
She burst into tears, called me a terrible son, accused me of abandoning her.
Honestly? I just dont care anymore. Shes perfectly healthy. If she refuses to get a job, she can go find herself a wealthy bloke to take care of her. Shes only fifty-fiveshes still got it, if you ask me.
So tell me, am I being too harsh? Or have I finally done the right thing?
My Mum Pretends to Be Ill to Avoid Working and Lives Off Us
My mum never had any desire to work. As…
