The words he said echoed in my mind, haunting my every thought. “Bad mom.” How could he say that? How could he betray me like that, especially to his friends?
It had started like any other evening. The kids were finally asleep, and my husband and I had settled down on the couch to unwind. But then, as if out of nowhere, he had casually mentioned what he had said to his friends earlier that day. He had called me a bad mom, a comment made in jest, he claimed. But to me, it cut deep.
I have been married for 5 years, and like any other wife reading this, my husband and I have our moments of ups and downs where one minute I’m head over heels in love with him and not so much the next. We have two kids with one being slightly on the spectrum. I work a full-time job as a consultant and barely have time to do much other than pick up after my kids when they go to bed.
I had always prided myself on being a good mother. I had sacrificed so much for our children, putting their needs above my own, day in and day out. I had stayed up countless nights, soothing fevers and chasing away monsters from under the bed. I had kissed countless boo-boos and wiped away countless tears. And yet, in one thoughtless moment, my husband had shattered my confidence, my sense of self.
I tried to brush it off, to laugh along with him as if it didn’t matter. But inside, I was seething. How could he belittle me like that, especially in front of others? Didn’t he see all that I did for our family, all that I sacrificed?
As the days passed, the resentment grew. I found myself withdrawing from him, unable to look at him without feeling a pang of hurt. I wanted to confront him, to make him understand the depth of my pain. But I was afraid – afraid of what his response might be, afraid of the rift it might cause between us.
So I kept silent, burying my feelings deep inside, letting them fester and grow. And as I sat there folding a trailer load of laundry, I knew that something had to change. I couldn’t go on like this, living with this resentment eating away at me.
I need to talk to him, to tell him how I felt, to make him understand the impact of his words. I needed to find a way to move past this, to rebuild the trust and respect that had been lost. I needed to find a way to heal, not just for my sake, but for the sake of our family.
I can either confront him, not with anger or resentment, but with honesty and vulnerability. I would lay bare my feelings, and I would hope – hope that he would understand, hope that he would apologize, hope that we could find a way to move forward, together.
Or I could never bring this up and hopefully get past it because I can’t help but wonder what if he doesn’t apologize or make me feel like I was crazy for thinking he thought I was a bad mom? What if he just doesn’t see the reason why I am upset? That would break me even more.
Signed – Anonymous W.
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