When Gary and I got married, I was thrilled to take on the role of a stepmother to his daughter, Brooke. She was just thirteen at the time, and while she was sharp and spirited, she also had a bit of an entitled attitude. Over the years, I did my best to support her—through college, her wedding, and so much more. But nothing could have prepared me for the phone call I received from her the day after her honeymoon.
Brooke had just tied the knot with her long-time partner, and we wanted to give her and her new husband the honeymoon of a lifetime. After everything she had been through, we thought this would be the perfect gift—a way to show our love and appreciation. We spared no expense, booking them a private villa in the Dominican Republic. The villa came with stunning ocean views, a private pool, and absolute luxury—everything we thought they deserved.
But the morning after their arrival, I received a call from Brooke that left me in complete shock.
“Mom, this villa is tiny,” she snapped through the phone. “The pool is a joke, and the beach is a five-minute walk away! You couldn’t even get us direct beach access? How could you be so cheap?”
My heart sank. This was a gift we had given from the bottom of our hearts. I had expected gratitude, not criticism. I glanced at Gary, whose face had turned crimson with anger. But I kept my composure, not wanting to escalate things further. I knew this wasn’t just about the size of the pool—it was something much deeper.
I squeezed Gary’s arm and said, “Let’s not yell. Let’s teach.”
Later that day, I called the villa’s management and asked them to downgrade Brooke and her husband to the simplest, no-frills room they had. I made it clear that this change was our decision. No private pool, no chef, no ocean view—just a basic room.
When Brooke called again, she was furious. “What’s going on? They’re moving us to a budget hotel!” she screamed. I let her vent before responding calmly. “You said the villa wasn’t good enough. We didn’t want to embarrass you further with our low standards, so I thought a simpler room might match your expectations better.”
Her anger escalated. “You’re ruining my honeymoon!” she yelled.
Gary stepped in, his voice firm. “Brooke, you’ve crossed a line. This wasn’t about the size of the pool. It was about your attitude. You’ve been handed everything—and still, it’s not enough.”
I joined in, “No, Brooke. You ruined your honeymoon the moment you called us ‘cheap.’ Maybe this will help you appreciate what you had.”
We didn’t hear from her for a week. That silence felt like peace. Gary and I knew we had done the right thing, but we also hoped Brooke would reflect on her actions and realize the value of gratitude.
Then, the phone rang. It was Brooke again, but her tone was different this time. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “The hotel was awful, and I now realize how much you two have done for me. I was wrong. Really wrong.”
Gary and I exchanged a glance before I replied, “We appreciate the apology. We only wanted you to understand how much love was behind that gift. Respect matters.”
“I get it now,” she said softly.
The call ended, and Gary wrapped his arm around me. “You handled that brilliantly,” he said.
I smiled and whispered, “Sometimes, a little dose of humility is the best honeymoon souvenir.”
It wasn’t an easy decision to stand our ground, but sometimes the hardest lessons are the ones that stick. We didn’t just teach Brooke about the value of a honeymoon; we taught her about respect, gratitude, and the importance of showing appreciation for the things people do out of love.
We all make mistakes, and we’re all entitled to learn from them. But as parents, it’s our job to help our children grow—not just by giving them what they want, but by teaching them what they need. The greatest gift we can give sometimes isn’t a plane ticket or a luxury villa; it’s perspective.