Some funerals bring closure. Others reopen wounds that never healed.
For one man, a single question from his kids stirred up more than three decades of resentment, heartbreak, and quiet endurance. After a 34-year marriage ended under relentless pressure from his former in-laws, he found himself facing an unexpected request. His ex-mother-in-law had died, and his children wanted him to attend her funeral.
On the surface, it sounds simple. Show up, pay respects, support the family. But history has weight, and in this case, it is heavy. Throughout his marriage, his former in-laws openly disapproved of him. They mocked his background, his lack of pedigree, and his absence of a formal university education. More than once, they offered his wife a house if she would leave him.
He laughed it off for years, using humor to cope. Eventually, the pressure worked. The marriage ended. The offer was accepted.
Now, years later, he is divorced, emotionally distant from his ex-in-laws, and being asked to mourn a woman who actively tried to erase him from his own family.
Is refusing to attend an act of bitterness, or an overdue boundary?
Now, read the full story:






This is one of those situations where context changes everything. On paper, skipping a funeral sounds cold. In reality, funerals are deeply personal, and attendance implies respect, grief, or at least reconciliation.
The OP endured decades of quiet hostility. The offers to buy his wife’s exit were not jokes. They were calculated attempts to remove him from the family. That kind of sustained emotional pressure leaves scars.
What stands out is how long he tried to cope without complaint. He stayed. He joked. He absorbed the insults. When the marriage ended, it wasn’t sudden. It was the result of years of erosion.
Now, being asked to attend feels less like support and more like revisionist history. As if the harm never happened.
This emotional bind, loyalty to children versus loyalty to self, is more common than people admit.
That tension deserves a closer look.
Funerals often come with unspoken expectations. Attendance signals respect, closure, or solidarity. But mental health professionals emphasize that grief rituals are for the living, not obligations owed to the dead.
According to the American Psychological Association, unresolved interpersonal conflict can resurface during major life events, including deaths and funerals. People often feel pressured to conform socially even when doing so causes emotional harm.
In this case, the OP’s ex-mother-in-law was not a neutral figure. She actively interfered in his marriage. Family systems theory explains that repeated triangulation, where a third party inserts themselves into a couple’s relationship, significantly increases marital breakdown risk.
Dr. Joshua Coleman, a psychologist specializing in family estrangement, notes that adult children often struggle when asking parents to “be the bigger person” at the expense of unresolved trauma. He explains that presence without authenticity can deepen resentment rather than heal it.
The children’s request likely stems from their own grief. They may want emotional stability, familiarity, or symbolic unity during a loss. That desire is understandable. However, it does not override the OP’s lived experience.
Research on boundary-setting shows that clear, respectful refusal can preserve mental health while still allowing compassion. A 2021 study in the Journal of Family Psychology found that individuals who maintained boundaries during family conflict reported lower long-term stress and regret.
So what are constructive options?
First, clarify intent. The OP should ask whether his children want emotional support or public optics. These are different needs.
Second, offer alternative support. A phone call, private conversation, or separate time with the kids can meet emotional needs without attending the funeral.
Third, communicate honestly but calmly. Explaining that attendance would feel inauthentic due to past harm helps children understand it is not about them.
Fourth, reject guilt narratives. Respect cannot be retroactively demanded from someone who endured sustained mistreatment.
Finally, remember that forgiveness and presence are separate acts. One can let go internally without participating in rituals tied to pain.
The core issue is not revenge or bitterness. It is self-respect. Showing up where you were never welcome does not rewrite history. It often reinforces it.
Check out how the community responded:
Many commenters felt there was absolutely no obligation to attend.



Some responses leaned dark humor and blunt honesty.




Others focused on the kids and emotional nuance.



Funerals carry weight because they blend grief, memory, and expectation. But they are not moral obligations, especially when the relationship in question caused lasting harm.
The OP is not refusing out of spite. He is refusing to perform respect for someone who actively worked to dismantle his life. That distinction matters.
Supporting adult children does not always mean standing beside them in every ritual. Sometimes it means protecting one’s own dignity while still offering care in other ways.
Family pressure often flattens complex histories into simple narratives. Show up. Be polite. Move on. Yet healing rarely works that way.
This situation highlights an uncomfortable truth. Not every chapter deserves a closing ceremony. Some deserve distance.
So what do you think?
Should personal boundaries outweigh social expectations at funerals? Or is showing up for your kids reason enough to sit in silence for someone who harmed you?
The answer likely depends on whose pain you prioritize.

















