When Happiness Fades: I Endured Abuse for the Sake of My Children

When Happiness Seems Just Out of Reach: Enduring for My Children’s Sake

Feeling Trapped in a Cage with No Escape
For years, I kept this pain to myself, believing that my story wasn’t significant because others had it worse. But today, I need to say it aloud – I’ve never been truly happy, not once in my life.

Thirty years ago, I married Richard. Not out of love, but because it seemed like the “right” thing to do. My parents insisted he was reliable, that I wouldn’t struggle with him. So, I listened.

Back then, I thought love wasn’t the most important thing. Stability was key.

How wrong I was.

The Everyday Humiliations
Even in our younger days, Richard didn’t hesitate to belittle me in front of others.

“She couldn’t even boil an egg!” he’d joke to friends at the table, prompting laughter.

“In bed, she’s as exciting as a log,” he’d say in company, disregarding the fact that I sat right there, eyes down with shame.

I stayed silent. I endured.

I tried to prove I was worthy of love, cooking dinners, and attempting to be gentle and caring. But every time, I was met with nothing but cold disdain.

Then, the children were born.

I told myself I’d endure everything for their sake.

Under One Roof, Living in Different Worlds
When our sons grew up and left, Richard didn’t even try to hide that he no longer needed me.

He added a separate room to the house and lived there alone. Neighbors and acquaintances thought we were the perfect family – outwardly, nothing had changed. We lived in the same house, ate in the same kitchen.

But no one knew even the fridge was divided.

On his containers, he wrote “R.S.” in big letters to ensure I wouldn’t accidentally touch his food.

I made do with what I could afford – simple porridge, potatoes, and sometimes bean soup.

I could only be in the kitchen when he wasn’t there. It was his “kingdom,” his territory. Mornings and afternoons, I had to eat in my room, and if I accidentally found myself near him, his irritated stare met me.

He’d sit at the table, lay out expensive meats, cheese, and a bottle of whiskey, eating demonstratively without offering me a piece.

I felt like a ghost in that house.

Indifference Laced with Hatred
Sometimes, we’d go shopping together. Each of us bought only what we intended to eat.

We split the bills for water, electricity, and the phone – down to the last penny.

Yet to others, we remained a “couple.” Even our children, who now rarely visited, had no idea how bad things were.

And I kept enduring.

Endured his harsh gaze, his disdain, his cold silence.

But worst were his weekends.

Those days, the house turned into a battlefield.

“You’re Nobody and Nothing”
He moved around the house as if every corner was solely his. If I left anything on his side of the table – it sparked an argument.

He’d grumble all day, then explode over something trivial.

“You’re like a cow!” he’d throw in my face.

“You’re simple and dull, like a stone in the road!”

I endured for a long time. For years, I just clenched my fists and stayed silent.

But one day, something broke inside me.

He started to argue again. I can’t even recall what it was about.

I sat across from him, watching as he shouted, anger flooding his face.

In that moment, I wanted to grab a vase and hurl it at his head. Wanted him to feel, even for a second, the pain I had felt all these years.

But I didn’t do it.

I just got up and went to my room.

I didn’t yell back. I didn’t cry.

Because I knew: this person was nothing to me anymore.