Just another day in (so-called) paradise

It's just one of those days when things just pile up one on top of the other and boil over. I don't want to get to the blaming game but why is it that I always end up looking like the bad guy? Maybe it's not enough to work 12-hour days and more. Maybe I need to be superwoman? But I'm not. I wish someone understood that. 'sigh' Yeah, just one of those days.

Sorry seems to be the hardest word (cliche as it may seem)

It's another big fight night and as much as I want to understand where the other is coming from, I can't. He says he didn't get to eat dinner because I came home late. He knows I told him I was meeting a friend for coffee and will be home late. I came home an hour later than what I said I would because of the downpour. Maybe it was thoughtless of me to assume he would cope just fine but all I got when I got home was a guy who was mad because I wasn't the obedient wife who came home early when he wanted to. And telling me this was the third time I did it. This coming from a guy who was lecturing a bunch of singletons the other night about giving their partners space and freedom to pursue their own interests and meet other people.

Because I didn't want to make the situation worse, I held my own tongue and refrained from mentioning he left me all hungry just last night because he came home two hours late (and worse, there was no food at the house so he said he was bringing home dinner). I lost count how many times this happened. Oh, and what about the times he left me waiting for nothing because he slept ahead and wasted the month's cycle? Oh, just about every month in the past few years. The last time we did it? Oh, that was last year. The last time I was satisfied? Five effing years ago.

But I held my tongue and just walked away after mumbling my apologies. I didn't want it to get worse. After all, according to him I should be content with my lot. But I'm not. I was never meant, nor had any intentions, to be a meek hausfrau. Sometimes you just have to pick your fights. This is not it.

Boy, but for the first time, I didn't want to say sorry. I'm tired of having to subjugate my needs for his. Unfortunately, love teaches us that some sacrifices have to be made. And once more, it has to be me. I had been thoughtless. But for once, I would love to hear a sincere sorry from his end. Then again, sorry seems to be the hardest word to say.

A (frustrated) Wife's Monologue (part 2)

Almost a year to the day I wrote the first part, the same issue rears its ugly head again. This time, I confess I was the guilty party - I was too frustrated to edit my word blurted a rather harsh line - "I wish you were man enough."

It was a typical night of banter when I uttered that line to myself in response to his laughing remark of "What? You don't think I'm man enough to wear it?" A few minutes before dinner I just got rejected again when I suggested we could make a go at it because I was ovulating (I know. Hormones and tempers don't mix). I know it was harsh and his anger was understandable.

I gave him a few minutes to cool off and tried to apologize. He was still fuming and said I might as well post it on Facebook for everybody to see. First, I rarely post about him or us and second, it's always something I find endearing about him. Now tell me if that's undermining him. My private life is just that - private.

Giving up is not in my blood so I tried again. I just got an angry "go find yourself another guy" followed by the silent treatment. I know I hurt him with that thoughtless remark and I accept that. I just wish he saw past that and try to find out what was eating me. I don't need another guy. I want my husband.

One of our friends gave us this book "The Act of Marriage" that advises Christian couples on the importance of sexual love. He refuses to read it. It doesn't really help me much in terms of my drive because it assumes the man is more driven than the wife and not vice versa. It doesn't even advocate masturbation. Great, so we're stuck. But it does say that a thoughtful partner would think about his wife's pleasure. Good luck to me on that.

One of the ironies of married life is that you still can't tell your partner about every opinion and thought you have. You still have to walk on eggshells to avoid upsetting the balance and you have to appear like a Stepford wife. But I'm not. I'm me. What the heck do I do now?

Post-Script: After doing some retail therapy and another apology from me (aided by an apology coupon stuck to a cute bunny coin bank), we kissed and made up. Lessons learned - filter my thoughts and men have fragile egos.