It’s been a really long minute since I’ve been in this space and I apologize to all of you who I left stranded in the middle of my story. Talk about cliff-hanger.
What can I say? No excuses. Life just happened and unfortunately I neglected my little corner of the internet here.
I’m back now though and ready to continue my tale.
So remember back in the beginning when I thought that I was 100% to blame for my marital problems? Before I found out about the third party in the picture? Well, my mother-in-law believed I was 100% to blame as well.
Oh, I remember fondly (insert sarcasm here) those times when she’d be at our house long after Husband had left for the evening and she’d lecture me about how if I had only made sure the house was clean all the time and made sure dinner was always ready and never talked back to Husband and never made Husband mad and all these very old-fashioned ideas of how an obedient wife should behave. Seriously, it was enough to leave me feeling like I wanted to gag myself with a spoon.
I kept my mouth shut and would just politely nod because in my culture, talking back to your elders is the same as committing a mortal sin. Respect your elders even when you believe they’re wrong. Golden rule.
Oh, but rules are meant to be broken, right?
One evening I cracked. It was after a long day in which we celebrated my youngest child’s 1st birthday. We just arrived home from the party we threw for her at a local party playhouse. You know the kind. Gigantic warehouse type building. A bunch of bounce houses in one space. Tons of kids hopping around just bursting with energy. You can probably imagine how tired we were when we got home.
Needless to say, it wasn’t the greatest time for me to find out that Husband had another phone. I was extra accusing. He was extra defensive. Not a pretty picture at all. And my mother-in-law was there to witness it all.
This confrontation between me and Husband didn’t end well. It took the usual course that every single one of our arguments during this time period took. No resolution. Husband storming out of the house. Me left behind in tears. The only thing different about this one was that Husband called me a bitch and told me he hated me. First time ever.
And my mother-in-law heard it all.
Now picture this: I’m sitting in the living room couch in an upright fetal position bawling my eyes out. One would think that maybe I’d get a little comfort from the mother of the father of my kids, right? Was that too much to ask?
Apparently so. Because what I got instead was a lecture. And my mother-in-law’s tune was the same. I shouldn’t talk back to Husband. I shouldn’t ever make Husband mad. I shouldn’t accuse Husband of things without proof.
Guys, I couldn’t take it anymore. As calmly and politely as I could, I told my mother-in-law about Husband’s affair. Tarnished that perfect image she had of him and let her in on his dirty little secret.
I did feel bad seeing the look of disappointment that washed over her face but I’m not gonna lie and say it wasn’t satisfying. I know it hurt her to realize that her son did wrong and wasn’t the victim of a shitty wife like she made him out to be. That he was also at fault for our marital woes. And surprisingly, she didn’t even try to defend him or tell me that I must be wrong.
The truth hurts. But now she knew. And she did a complete 180. From that point on, she was on my side. No longer was I the shitty wife who didn’t take care of Husband’s needs. She finally realized that I was the victim in all of this then turned her energy towards lecturing her son.
Husband was none too pleased about it. But that’s a different post for a different day.