Just when I thought I had things under control, reality snapped me out of my dreams.

This week has been the most stressful week of my life. I've been studying, I got a whole makeover, and I've been taking etiquette classes. Why am I doing this? The real question is, who am I doing this for? The obvious answer is Rami, my husband; however, the person behind my agony, the one who is currently torturing me, is none other than my mother-in-law. She is, without a doubt, the most poisonous, vicious, and cruelest woman I've ever met in my whole life!

When I first met her on our wedding day, she seemed like a decent woman. She had a sweet smile, introduced me to everyone, and treated me well. After our wedding, she took me shopping and horse riding; we had a nice bonding time. I genuinely wanted to build a mother-daughter relationship with her. I was looking forward to bonding with her. I don't know why, but she just suddenly flipped!

One day, she called me and invited me to a tea party she was hosting in her mansion. I tried my best to look good and behave well. When I arrived at the party, she completely ignored me, even when I was trying to greet her. Then one of her friends came up to me and asked me about my family. I told her that I was an orphan. She asked me about my profession, and I told her that I studied business. When she asked me how I met Rami, my mother-in-law interrupted us and said, "Oh, you won't believe it! It's the most romantic story ever; Rami told me all about it! She was the business manager of one of the most famous athletes—you know, the one who promoted Rami's technology—and that's how they met. Rami ran into her at a charity event. You know what a sweetheart he is; he's got such a huge heart! And she was there too; she's just as sweet as him, you see? Can you believe destiny? Both of them are sensitive, successful people, and they were destined to find each other. He confessed to me that he proposed the commercial thing just so he could get to know her. After working together, they fell in love, and you know the rest."

I was completely dumbfounded by her made-up story of our meeting. I have to admit her imagination is impressive, to say the least, but her high expectations of me terrified me. I made a mental note to write it down before I forgot it. Once she decided to narrate it in front of all these women, it became our official story for the public. I knew I had to check with Rami before I started narrating it too.

Another woman came and asked me about my clothes. I told her that it was a brand whose name I forgot. She smirked and said that she doubted I knew any brand to begin with. When I turned to my mother-in-law for help, she ignored me again and kept talking to another one of her friends. The music they played was French, which I didn't know. A young lady who turned out to be her niece said that I must know this song since I'm the manager of a famous French athlete. I was beyond speechless; it was getting hard to keep up with the act, especially since no one prepared me or even informed me of this narrative.

I excused myself and left the party after less than 40 minutes. I just couldn't keep up with them, and I felt overwhelmed. To my dismay, I found out that Rami left on a sudden business trip without informing me, so now I was on my own against the world again. After a few days, I was invited to a fashion show.

As I stepped into the grand venue for the fashion show, I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and the sound of laughter and chatter floated around me like an invisible fog. I adjusted my blazer, trying to look as polished as possible in my formal clothes, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t belong here.

I took a seat near the front, hoping to blend into the backdrop of glamorous gowns and chic ensembles. But as I settled in, I couldn’t help but overhear snippets of conversation from the women around me. Their whispers sliced through the air, sharp and mocking.

“Look at her outfit,” one woman sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. “So boring. Doesn’t she know this is a fashion show?”

Another chimed in, “She looks like she just walked out of a corporate meeting. What’s she even doing here?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I forced myself to look straight ahead, pretending not to hear them. My heart raced as I tried to focus on the runway, where models glided past in a whirlwind of color and fabric. But I found myself lost in a sea of confusion. The designs were avant-garde, and I didn’t understand half of what I was seeing. Were those feathers or plastic? Was that a dress or a sculpture? I felt utterly out of place, like a fish out of water gasping for breath.

As the show came to an end, the applause echoed around me, but it felt distant and muffled. Just when I thought I could slip away unnoticed, an organizer approached me with a bright smile that contrasted sharply with my discomfort.

“Excuse me, miss! We’d love to get your thoughts on the show for our magazine!” she said enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with expectation.

My stomach dropped. Thoughts raced through my mind—what could I possibly say? I was completely unprepared for this. “Oh, um…” I stammered, my mind a blank slate. “I… I thought it was… very… colorful?”

The organizer’s smile faltered slightly, but she pressed on. “And what about the themes? Did you connect with any of the designs?”

My heart raced as panic set in. Themes? Designs? I felt like I was drowning in a sea of fashion terminology that I had no grasp of. “Actually, I… I have to go,” I blurted out, scrambling to my feet. “I just remembered—I have an appointment!”

Without waiting for a response, I hurried away from the scene, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. As I pushed through the crowd, I could still hear whispers behind me, but this time they faded into the background. All that mattered was escaping this world that felt so foreign and overwhelming.

I had barely settled back at home when my phone rang, the shrill sound cutting through the silence like a knife. I glanced at the screen and saw my mother-in-law’s name flashing ominously. My stomach twisted into knots as I answered, bracing myself for the inevitable.

“Dema!” Her voice was sharp, and I could almost hear her tapping her fingers impatiently. “What on earth were you thinking at that fashion show?”

I cringed, sinking deeper into the couch. “Um, hi, Auntie. I—”

“Don’t ‘hi’ me! You embarrassed yourself! Do you have any idea how many people were talking about you? The news is all over it! ‘The famous Rami's wife is a goofy idiot who knows nothing about fashion!’”

I winced, her words hitting me like blows. “I—I didn’t mean to,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. “It was overwhelming, and I just… I panicked.”

“Overwhelming? Dema, you’re married to Rami! You should be confident! This is your chance to shine, not to hide in the shadows like some wallflower.”

Her disappointment seeped through the phone, wrapping around me like a heavy blanket. “I thought you were going to support him, to represent him well. Instead, you made a fool of yourself.”

I felt tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. “I tried! But everyone was so… so judgmental. I didn’t know what to say or do.”

“Judgmental? You’re in the fashion world now! It’s time to toughen up and learn what it means to be part of this family. You can’t just run away every time things get tough.”

The weight of her words pressed down on me, suffocating and unrelenting. “I know, Auntie,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “I’ll do better next time. I promise.”

“Next time?” she scoffed. “You need to start right now. Rami deserves someone who can stand by him confidently, not someone who runs away from a little criticism.”

I bit my lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “I understand,” I managed to say, though a part of me felt utterly defeated.

“Good. Now, pull yourself together, Dema. Remember , you’re representing our family too.”

With that, she hung up, leaving me in a whirlwind of emotions—shame, frustration, and a deep-seated desire to prove her wrong. I stared at the wall for a moment, feeling the weight of expectations pressing down on me.

Taking a deep breath, I wiped my eyes and stood up. I couldn’t let this define me. I had to find my footing in this chaotic world and show everyone—including myself—that I could rise above the whispers and judgments. It was time to figure out how to navigate this new life, no matter how daunting it seemed.