I sent my son away when he was thirteen. Now he's back and asking me to make my other son forgive him.

I married my husband (Alan) when I was fifteen. He was nineteen. I don't have to tell you we were both far too young for this and it should never have happened. I had my first son when I was 15 (Sam) and my second when I was 17 (Matt). We lived with my husband's parents, who are on the older side, retired, and very wealthy. My parents are not in the picture.

My husband's family treated my first child like a do-over baby. They spoiled him rotten and set absolutely no rules, he was never told "no" unless it was literally a matter of life or death. I was rarely allowed to care for him, to hold him, or even nurse him. By the time Sam was four years old, he was calling my MIL "mama". I was not allowed to leave the house to get a job (not that there were any I could get to without a car), and mainly spent my day working as a maid for my MIL. I was able to do some remote freelance work to save money, which I did in secret with my husband. The money was deposited into a joint account we shared and he put his own paycheck in there as well (which he hid from his parents by lying about how much he was paid). Sometimes his father gifted him large amounts of cash to go out for a night with the boys, but Alan always put that straight into the joint account.

Things changed when I had Matt. My in-laws ignored him and barely acknowledged him, except to threaten to have him taken from me if I interfered with their relationship with Sam. Alan spent so much time working that I was left to raise Matt nearly on my own. In some ways, it was better, because I was at least allowed to raise my own child. But it was like being a single mother and I struggled to keep working while trying to conceal it from my in-laws.

When I turned 21, my husband and I left. We waited until his parents were out to dinner late one night and packed everything in just about an hour, got ourselves into the car, and drove away.

I was afraid I'd made a mistake almost as soon as we left. Sam asked where we were going, and when his father told him we were moving, he started screaming he wanted "mama" (MIL) and that he was being "kidnapped" (I later learned MIL and FIL had warned him that I might try to "kidnap" him, and if I did, he was to scream for help and tell people he was being kidnapped). My husband and I were absolutely heartbroken, but he told me that we were doing the right thing, and would just have to brace ourselves and bear it out. We were out. He had an uncle the next state over who'd offered us a place to crash until we found an apartment (uncle was estranged from in-laws). He talked about our dreams, how in a few years, this would be like a nightmare we'd almost have forgotten about.

Matt adjusted great. He was an easygoing kid, did well in school, made friends. Sam did not. It would take a book to detail everything that happened, but Sam always resented Matt and insisted Matt was my “favorite”. Matt called me mom. Sam didn’t.

For the first year, MIL was still "mom", and when he first went to school, he told his teachers that I'd kidnapped him from his real mom-- that was a hell of a call to deal with. He tried to run away twice when he was eight, though he admittedly didn't get very far and was home by dinner. It wasn't a real threat of running away so much as it was a very unhappy kid acting out, and Alan and I both took it as a cry for help. We did our best to comfort him and listen to him and reach out to him.

When Sam was thirteen, we discovered he was in communication with MIL through an email account we didn’t know about. MIL kept promising Sam that as soon as he was sixteen, she would whisk him away. The emails talked about how we'd "kidnapped" and "taken" Sam from her, and that she'd buy him any car he liked for his sixteenth birthday, and that they still had his old room ready and waiting for him. Asked if he remembered the pool. Things like that.

Sam became convinced that the only reason we weren’t going back was because of Matt (his logic was that he was MIL’s favorite and Matt was mine, and I was jealous of MIL).

I’ve written and rewritten this part about twenty times. To make a long story short, Sam attacked Matt one day, screaming that it was Matt’s fault that his life was “ruined”. I took Matt to the ER for a broken nose and a cracked rib. Alan stayed with Sam, because he was the only one strong enough to restrain him, and I was afraid Sam would turn on me (and he did try to punch Alan while I was gone).

My husband and I were shaken. This absolutely could not happen again—Matt didn’t deserve to live in fear in his own house—and we could tell it had been escalating to this for a while, and was completely out of our control. Alan had been sent to an all-boys boarding school when he was Sam’s age, and we discussed it with our boys’ godfather (Alan’s uncle, who took us in when we first escaped) and he suggested letting him keep Sam for a year and see if things improved, and go from there. Uncle agreed that it was best to separate the boys for now. He lives about two hours away, so we could visit regularly, but he said to keep boarding school on the table if things got out of hand. We agreed.

Uncle lives in a place where the only internet is what your router offers, the cellular is nonexistent unless you’re very close to town. So we felt confident that Sam would be off contact with MIL, and he loves and respects Uncle, so we felt it would be good for him. And we were right, it was. Alan saw him as often as Sam would let him, but completely ignored me. Matt always came to visit Uncle and work with him in the workshop, but never spoke to Sam. Sam sometimes came to sleep over at our house to spend time with Alan or for special occasions (his birthday, Christmas). Matt always slept over at his best friend's house whenever Sam showed up. Sam chose to stay with Uncle until he finished high school.

As soon as Sam graduated high school, he went to stay with MIL and FIL. We didn’t hear from him for a few years, except the occasional phone call to Alan and updates from Uncle, who assured me that this was in no way my doing. Sam has shown no interest in college, trade school or a job, and my in-laws seem content to house him on their dime. He is now nineteen and I worry for his future, but it’s entirely out of my hands.

Matt graduated high school this year and went to train under Uncle (he’s been sort of apprenticing for years, but now he’ll live with Uncle). Sam dropped by a week ago to speak to us. He said Uncle has cut contact with him. He says he needs Matt to forgive him, because Uncle said not to talk to him until Sam has made amends, but Matt won’t speak to Sam. Sam came to me specifically and said Matt would listen to me.

I told Sam that I can tell Matt that he’d like to speak, but I cannot make Matt do anything. Sam insisted that I could tell Matt to forgive him. I told Sam that we all make mistakes, but sometimes the damage is too late to heal, and I think he can understand that. Sam insisted it was not the same that he was thirteen when he broke Matt’s nose, and I was his mother. I told him, “I was fifteen when I had you. I made many mistakes raising you, which I will pay for the rest of my life, but the worst of them was when I was still a child.” I told him I wish we’d escaped with him sooner and I should’ve been braver. This pissed Sam off. I said I’d pass his message on to Matt then went inside.

Alan spoke with Sam a bit longer, then Sam left. I rang Matt and said that Sam would like to speak, and Matt replied, “I know.” So, he knows.

At this point, I don't think I can repair the relationship with Sam. I don't think I even want to try. Alan wants to repair things, but I think the damage is long done. Sam will always have a bed waiting in our house, but I don't think I can advocate on his behalf to Matt, particularly not when he's only asking because he wants things to go back the way they used to be with Uncle. I'm certain I'm a terrible mother to give up on one of my children, but I've had a few years now to come to terms with that. Alan is gently encouraging me to try, but I told him I've been rejected by my own son for thirteen years, I don't think I can take it anymore.

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tl;dr: Husband and I married too young, had kids too young, MIL tried to replace me as mother to my eldest. We escaped but the damage was done. My eldest son attacked my younger son when he was thirteen and permanently broke their relationship. I don't know if I should even attempt to involve myself at this point.

Submitted March 30, 2023 at 11:17PM by Impossible_Mother https://ift.tt/NMvcm3s