Dishes in the sink, a half-eaten breakfast on the table, and a five-year-old tugging at my shirt as I attempted to log in for a business meeting were the typical beginnings of the day. Nothing fresh. Just the lovely chaos of being a full-time mother and a part-time remote job. However, I was unaware at the time that this day would mark the start of something greater or the end.
Eric and I have been wed for twelve years. My age is thirty-two. He is forty-three. Our two children are Lily, ten, who enjoys painting dragons, and Brandon, five, who believes that peanut butter is the answer to every issue in life.
They have my undying love. I’ve given it my all for them.
Eric? He donates funds.
As he loves to say, he “provides.” However, I seem to be in my element when it comes to everything else, including diapers, meals, school forms, and bedtime tears. Folding laundry is a luxury that few men should aspire to, and he has never packed a lunchbox or stayed up with a sick child.
I managed to keep things going, though. I assumed that long, quiet sighs in the bathroom, silent dissatisfaction, and coffee-fueled mornings were all part of the package.
Until the day he proposed having a third child.
It took place during dinner. Eric nonchalantly commented, “I think it’s time we had another baby,” while going through his phone as Brandon was throwing peas on the floor and Lily was in the middle of a tirade about a math test.
I nearly let my fork fall.
“What do you think now?” I inquired.
A third child. There is space for us.
I looked at him, unsure if he was kidding. He wasn’t.
“Eric, you’re not helpful with the two we have. What gives you the impression that I wish to take on more work?
He then started reading his favorite script, “I provide.” I have a job. You don’t realize how fortunate you are.
Simple, huh?
An dispute would have been started by that alone, but the next section set it off.
He overheard everything because his sister Amber and mother Brianna happened to be in the house. Clutching pearls and opinions like they were in 1955, they made a spectacular entrance into the kitchen.
Brianna grinned tightly and remarked, “A man doesn’t like to be criticized by his wife.”
“You ought to feel thankful,” added Amber. “You seem pampered.”
spoilt.
since I desired a respite. I wanted my spouse to be a parent, that’s why.
Eric remained silent. With his arms crossed, he watched as the ladies in his life used their antiquated beliefs and unrealistic expectations to tag-team me.
He didn’t see me as a partner, which was painful but clear when I looked at him. I worked as a personal assistant, a cook, and a live-in nanny. I also happened to have his last name.
He brought it up again that evening once the house had calmed down—another baby, another load. He didn’t inquire about my feelings. All he wanted was for me to say yes.
So I declined.
And he snapped.
He yelled, “You’ve changed.” You’re not in love with me. You’re not fond of the children.
“No,” I quietly said. “I’ve matured. There is a distinction.
After giving me a long look, he gestured to the door. “Get your belongings and head out.” I can no longer put up with this.
I was abruptly ejected by him.
But I made one final loop around before I departed. “The children remain. Did you want me to leave? Alright. However, if you believe this work is so simple, you can raise them.
His face turned white.
“That’s not happening,” he stumbled.
I gave a shrug. “Eric, you don’t have a choice right now.”
After that, I left with my sister by my side and just a bag slung over my shoulder.
Later, he gave a call. claimed to have changed his mind. claimed he couldn’t manage it by himself. I’m not joking.
I filed for divorce within weeks. He now pays child support as he should have from the start, and I keep the house and have full custody.
This is not what I ever wanted. But sometimes letting the old structure fall is the only way to start over.
I don’t feel bad about it. I feel liberated. Because I showed up for me, and for the first time in years, I’m not waiting for someone else to do it for me.
How about you? When someone refused to do anything for you, have you ever had to chose yourself?
