I fell in love with my mother-in-law before I even got married

Building a relationship with my future mother-in-law has been a slow burn. After all, we’re getting to know each other even before I’m officially engaged (I still joke that there’s no ring on my finger yet). I’m 28 years old, and Mukesh* and I have been dating since June 2023, and just under a year later, he told his parents about me—his “very serious” partner. Around that time, I’d sent his parents a small gift, something silver, for their housewarming puja. It wasn’t a grand gesture, just enough to say that we weren’t simply playing around. I suspect Mukesh’s mom had already come to terms with the fact that her son had finally found his life partner.

Before we met face-to-face, I spoke to his mother over the phone. Trying my best to butter her up, I threw in a premeditated “I adore your matar paneer” as a subtle bonding strategy, something Mukesh and I had discussed beforehand. Then came the meeting of the parents, which was orchestrated with the precision of an Indian wedding menu, each step meticulously planned. Our families agreed to meet at Mumbai’s Siddhivinayak Temple, which, in the Indian relationship playbook, signifies ‘serious business.’ I played the part of the quintessential daughter-in-law: a respectful namaste, touching their feet, the whole routine. I knew Mukesh’s parents were more traditional than my family, and I wanted to start things off on the right note, giving them the respect they deserve in a way they would appreciate.

Initially, his mother seemed a bit awkward but warm. I could sense there was a lot on her mind, but she kept her questions light. That is, until Mukesh channelled his inner desi boy and nudged her with, “Ask her if she knows how to cook!” (Thanks for that, Mukesh.) She reassured me quickly, saying I’d only need to tell the house help what to cook if I wanted to. I shared a bit about the time I was living by myself abroad and assured her I could handle things just fine—I had survival skills. I even jokingly asked if her son could say the same.

We started texting over the next few months, beginning with her sending sweet “Good Morning” messages. Soon, I found myself calling her on weekends to chat about everything from her health to the events of her day. I vividly remember a touching conversation about her life after Mukesh moved out of their family home. She opened up about feeling like an empty nester and admitted she’d been anxious about him living alone. But now, she felt reassured because I was in his life. That’s when I realised that building a relationship with my mother-in-law wasn’t about simply checking off a list of expectations. Through actions, rather than words (not my strong suit), I would try and show her that I’d always be there to listen.

Her opening up to me felt like more than just polite small talk. It was the beginning of something real. For all these years, she had been the only woman in a house with three men (her husband and two sons), and I could sense she was a little relieved to have another woman around—someone with whom she could share her thoughts. Mukesh’s dad even calls her maalkin—queen of the house—and the entire family adores her. Seeing how much they rely on and cherish her has made me appreciate her even more.

When we visited his parents’ home in Delhi, I found myself in her kitchen, helping with lunch preparation for the family. During a quiet moment, she mentioned she was feeling exhausted. Later, Mukesh and I found out her health wasn’t in the best shape, and she was going through menopause. I realised that having another woman around, someone she could talk to about such things, was probably a big deal for her.

In all honesty, stepping into the role of the badi bahu (elder daughter-in-law) comes with its own set of expectations. There have been moments of doubt when I wonder, “Am I doing this right?” I feel a certain sense of responsibility—after all, there are roles to be fulfilled in a traditional family structure. At the same time, I will carve my own path, allowing myself the space to build a bond with my mother-in-law, and the rest of the family, in my own way.

As a millennial, I often feel like I’m walking the tightrope between tradition and individuality, but I’m told my sunny disposition helps make me an easy presence to be around. Maybe that’s worked in my favour, helping my mother-in-law and me bridge the initial awkwardness. I’ve always been the kind of person people find easy to talk to, and I think she’s starting to see that, too.

I know that after our wedding takes place at the end of the year, I will have to travel with his family back to their village for a puja. Going to my sasural (in-laws’ home) for the first time on my own is a bit daunting, but I also want to honour their family traditions and rituals. And Mukesh and his mom have reassured me that they will be there to guide me through it all. I won’t have to do anything I’m not comfortable with, and we’ll navigate it all together.

There are plenty of horror stories out there about the ‘typical’ mother-in-law: the hawk-eyed, overbearing woman who micromanages everything, from how you make chai to what you should wear. I’ll be honest, there’s some truth to those stories—they don’t come from nowhere. But my experience has been a refreshing surprise. Instead of unsolicited opinions, there was genuine curiosity. Instead of testing my patience, my mother-in-law shared stories that eased my nerves. When I first visited their home in Delhi, she made a comment about how the kitchen was going to be my kitchen soon. And even though we won’t be living together, her offering to hand over the reins of her domain to me—without any rules, taanas, or expectations—felt so different from all the stories I had heard.

Meeting her didn’t feel like entering a battlefield; it felt more like meeting a friend who just happened to be my soon-to-be husband’s mom.

It’s funny how building a relationship with my mother-in-law feels like gaining a new intimate connection with its own rhythms, quirks, and inside jokes. She’s been nothing but welcoming, trying to balance tradition with openness in her quiet, steady way. And as our relationship evolves from casual chats to sharing genuine moments, I realise she isn’t just Mukesh’s mom—she’s becoming part of my family too.

*Name changed upon request

This is an anonymous account as told to Sara Hussain.