My Relatives Started Complaining about My Wife’s Meals at Our Monthly Family

My wife, Megan, poured her heart into hosting our family’s monthly dinners, a tradition started by my grandmother. But instead of appreciation, my family constantly criticized her cooking. After seeing her cry more than once, I suspected something deeper was going on.

To test it, we planned a secret experiment. Megan cooked the same dishes they’d insulted before, but this time I claimed I made the food. Suddenly, everyone praised the chicken, raved about the pasta, and said they were glad I was “cooking again.” When I revealed Megan had made everything, just like before, the room fell silent. Their compliments vanished.

That’s when we knew—it was never about the food. They simply didn’t like Megan and refused to accept her.

I told my family we were done hosting—and we stopped attending the dinners altogether. My mom accused me of abandoning tradition “because of Megan,” but I didn’t care. Later, my sister Gloria confirmed it: Mom and Angela never approved of Megan and judged her for being “different.”

I chose my wife. Megan deserved love and respect, not humiliation in her own home. So we walked away from the old traditions and began creating our own—ones built on kindness, not criticism.