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| Mature woman | Source: Getty Images |
I initially thought my boyfriend's mother was genuinely mistaking me for "Scarlett" instead of Jasmine, but after several months, I understood her memory lapses were purposeful. So I planned a special surprise for Thanksgiving. I never expected to trigger such chaos during the holiday.
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| A woman looking outside a window | Source: Midjourney |
My story began two years ago when Arnold and I connected at our workplace. He embodied everything I desired in a companion. Our connection was immediate, and we found common ground in our appreciation for 90s sitcoms and corny puns.
My relationship with Arnold was unlike any previous ones. He was attentive when I shared my thoughts, retained minor details I mentioned casually, and consistently made me feel appreciated.
He demonstrated his care through thoughtful gestures, from bringing my preferred coffee on challenging Monday mornings to providing emotional support during stressful work presentations.
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| A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels |
Our relationship flourished perfectly for two years.
The complications only surfaced when Arnold introduced me to his family, revealing underlying tensions in our otherwise peaceful relationship.
I felt anxious driving to meet his parents for the first time. I meticulously selected my outfit and prepared my special chocolate chip cookies as a welcoming gesture.
However, from the moment I arrived, the conversation revolved around Scarlett's accomplishments and memories.
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| A woman sitting in her boyfriend's house | Source: Midjourney |
Eventually, I realized that Scarlett was Arnold's previous girlfriend.
She had been his companion since high school, sharing nine years together and becoming an integral part of his family. While Arnold rarely mentioned her, his family couldn't stop discussing her.
Their separation had particularly affected Arnold's mother, Melissa. Though Arnold had moved forward with me, his family remained anchored in the past.
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| An older woman | Source: Midjourney |
"Oh, Scarlett was such a pretty girl," Melissa gushed, barely looking at me. "She knew everything about our family. It was like she'd grown up with us."
I maintained politeness despite my discomfort.
"That's nice," I said, searching for something else to add. "I'm looking forward to getting to know everyone too."
Melissa just nodded, her eyes glazing over as if she hadn't really heard me. I glanced at Arnold, who squeezed my hand reassuringly.
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| A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney |
That initial dinner was dominated by stories about Scarlett.
They praised her helpfulness with dishes (while rejecting my offers to assist).
They celebrated her apple pie expertise (while my chocolate chip cookies remained untouched).
They emphasized her daughter-like status (while I felt increasingly excluded).
Initially, I attributed Melissa's behavior to adjustment difficulties. Then she began addressing me as "Scarlett."
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| An older woman talking to her son's girlfriend | Source: Midjourney |
This happened repeatedly. I politely corrected her initially, believing it was unintentional.
"Actually, it's Jasmine," I'd say with a smile.
"Oh, right," Melissa would reply, not sounding sorry at all.
When she used "Scarlett" in written messages, the intentional nature became clear. I couldn't dismiss it anymore.
After another family dinner filled with her calling me Scarlett, I shared my concerns with Arnold.
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| A woman talking to her boyfriend | Source: Midjourney |
"Babe, your mom keeps calling me Scarlett," I cried. "I don't think it's an accident anymore."
Arnold's smile suddenly faded.
"I'll talk to her," he said firmly. "This isn't okay."
The following day, Arnold confronted his mother. Her son's raised voice carried from the next room.
"Mom, you need to get over Scarlett," he said firmly. "She's not interested in me anymore. We're never getting back together. Jasmine is my girlfriend now, and you need to respect that."
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| A man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney |
I experienced feelings of remorse.
I questioned whether I was causing family discord. I contemplated handling the situation independently.
During subsequent visits, Melissa adopted a new strategy. Rather than using "Scarlett," she employed various other names. She would call me Jennifer, Jay, Jessica – anything except Jasmine.
"Jennifer, could you pass the salt?" she'd ask sweetly.
"It's Jasmine," I'd correct her, forcing a smile.
"Oh, right. Jay, how's work going?"
The situation was maddening, but I hesitated to burden Arnold again.
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| An upset woman | Source: Midjourney |
I resolved to address the situation personally.
My approach involved excessive kindness, bringing her favorite flowers and offering assistance with household tasks. I even spent an entire afternoon viewing family photographs, hoping to establish a connection.
Yet nothing seemed effective.
Several weeks before Thanksgiving, Melissa organized a family barbecue. I viewed it as an opportunity for family bonding and accepted the invitation.
While gathered around the grill, Arnold's sister Amy initiated a conversation.
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| A barbecue grill | Source: Pexels |
"Arnold tells me you're quite the cook, Jasmine," Amy said, smiling. "He was raving about your cooking to my husband the other day."
I laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"Oh, he might be exaggerating a bit," I replied. "I just enjoy experimenting in the kitchen."
That's when Melissa saw her opportunity.
"Well," she said, emphasizing the wrong name, "Why don't we let Jennifer make the turkey this year? Show us what you can do."
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| A woman talking to her son's girlfriend | Source: Midjourney |
Despite my irritation at the incorrect name, I maintained a composed exterior.
"Sure," I said calmly. "That's a great idea!"
As I agreed, I began formulating a strategy. If Melissa wanted to engage in games, I could participate too. The following weeks were dedicated to perfecting my turkey recipe, determined to prove I could match Scarlett's standards.
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| A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney |
On Thanksgiving Day, Arnold and I arrived at Melissa's house. We brought wine and dessert but conspicuously lacked the promised turkey.
Our entrance caused visible shock throughout the room.
Melissa's eyes widened at our empty hands.
"Where's the turkey?" she asked.
"Oh, was I supposed to cook it?" I asked sweetly. "I thought you told some 'Jennifer' to cook Thanksgiving dinner. I'm Jasmine, remember?"
The room fell silent. I could see Arnold trying to hide a smile beside me.
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| A man in a living room | Source: Midjourney |
"What do you mean?" Melissa spluttered. "You agreed to cook the turkey!"
"Did I?" I replied, keeping my voice calm. "I don't recall agreeing to that. Maybe you should have asked Jasmine instead of Jennifer."
"But what are we supposed to eat now?" Amy asked.
I shrugged. "I'm sure Melissa has a backup plan. After all, she's such an experienced hostess."
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| A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney |
Melissa's face contorted with anger. "You... you did this on purpose!" she yelled.
"Did what?" I asked innocently. "I'm just following your lead, Melissa. If you can't remember my name, how can I be expected to remember what you've asked me to do?"
Arnold stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"Mom," he said firmly, "this has gone on long enough. You can't keep pretending not to know Jasmine's name. It's disrespectful and childish."
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| A man talking to his mother | Source: Midjourney |
Melissa's eyes filled with tears. "How dare you!" she shouted. "After everything I've done for you, Arnold! And you bring this... this woman into our family who ruins Thanksgiving!"
"The only one ruining Thanksgiving is you, Mom," Arnold replied calmly. "Jasmine is my girlfriend, and she deserves your respect."
The gathering descended into chaos. Melissa shouted, Amy wept, and other relatives argued among themselves.
Throughout the commotion, I remained steadfast with Arnold beside me.
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| A close-up shot of a woman's face | Source: Midjourney |
"I've tried so hard to fit in with this family," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "I've been nothing but kind and respectful, even when you've repeatedly disrespected me by refusing to use my name. I'm not Scarlett, and I'm not trying to be. I'm Jasmine, and I'm the woman your son has chosen to be with."
Melissa's face crumpled, a mix of anger and embarrassment washing over her. "You don't understand," she said, her voice breaking. "Scarlett was like a daughter to me. When she left, it was like losing a child."
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| A woman talking to her son's girlfriend | Source: Midjourney |
"I do understand," I replied softly. "But that doesn't give you the right to treat me like I don't exist. I'm here, I love your son, and I want to be a part of this family. But I won't let you erase who I am."
The room grew quiet momentarily. Then Melissa gestured toward the exit. "Get out!" she screamed. "Both of you, get out of my house!"
Arnold took my hand, and we departed without comment.
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| Cars on a road | Source: Pexels |
The subsequent day, Arnold received a message from his mother. He shared it with me:
"Arnold, I hope you realize that Jasmine is not the right woman for you. She caused so much yelling and crying at Thanksgiving. Is that really the kind of person you want to be with?"
I awaited Arnold's response. He gazed at me with eyes full of love and determination.
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| A man looking at his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney |
"Mom," he typed, "I don't need your suggestion on who's right for me. I'm happy with Jasmine, and she's the one I'm going to stay with. If you can't respect that, then maybe we need some time apart."
Upon sending the message, I experienced a profound sense of relief.
I understood then that regardless of his family's reaction, we would face challenges together.
"I'm sorry it came to this," I whispered.
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| A woman talking to her boyfriend | Source: Midjourney |
"Don't be," he replied, kissing the top of my head. "You stood up for yourself, and for us. I'm proud of you."
Reflecting on the events, I maintain no regrets about my actions. Sometimes asserting yourself is necessary, even if it creates tension. Or in this case, disrupts a holiday meal.
Perhaps by next Thanksgiving, Melissa will correctly use my name. If not, I take comfort in knowing I have both a reliable turkey recipe and a supportive boyfriend.
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| A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney |
The following weeks found Arnold and I concentrating on strengthening our relationship, establishing our own customs and building our personal family unit.
Regarding Melissa? Sometimes it requires a dramatic event to prompt someone to recognize their mistakes.
While progress is gradual, I'm beginning to hear my actual name more frequently during our visits.
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