It Took Me Fifteen Years to Realise My Marriage Was Like a January Gym Membership—Full of Good Intentions at First, Then Empty for the Rest of the Year

Author Mitsuko NagasakiReading 5 minViews 4

It took me fifteen years to realise my marriage was much like a gym membership you sign up for every January full of good intentions at the start, then abandoned and gathering dust for the rest of the year.

It all began on a perfectly ordinary Tuesday. I came home from work and found him sprawled on the sofa, hand buried in a bag of crisps, watching that same zombie series for the third time round.

What about dinner? he asked, eyes glued to the screen.

Something snapped inside me. Rather like hitting the factory reset on a computer.

I dont know, darling. What about dinner? I replied, dropping my handbag by the door.

He looked at me as if Id suddenly started speaking Welsh.

What do you mean, you dont know? You always cook.

Do I? Thats interesting. Well, Im off to have dinner with my girlfriends. See you later.

The look on his face couldve been poetry. Perhaps a haiku. Short, but full of meaning.

That evening, I savoured grilled fish, drank a chilled glass of white, and laughed until my sides ached. I got home well past ten. Hed ordered pizza. The kids were thrilled.

Mum, why cant we have dinner like this more often? my youngest asked, tomato sauce streaked on her nose.

The following week, I went a step further. Quite literally.

Im off to Cornwall this Friday, I announced at breakfast.

He nearly choked on his tea.

To Cornwall? What about the children?

Theyll be here with you. You are their father, after all. Im sure youll manage.

But Ive got meetings! Ive got important work!

I looked him straight in the eye.

What a coincidence. Ive had important work for the past fifteen years. And yet, somehow, I managed. Im sure you, with your fantastic mind that you like to mention, will work something out.

And off I went. Alone. Well, technically with a cousin, but thats beside the point.

Day one, I received seventeen messages:

Wheres the PE kit?
How do I work the washing machine?
Do you boil pasta in hot or cold water?
Can the kids have cereal for tea?

I replied to just one: You know, Google is your friend.

By the third day, the messages took on a new tone:

They want chicken nuggets again.
Do they always have this much homework?
Why are there so many school meetings?

I didnt reply. I was busy sipping an iced latte by the sea, enjoying a book without a single interruption every five minutes.

When I returned, the house looked as if a small tornado had paid a visit. Socks adorned the ceiling to this day I dont know how they got up there the dog was wandering around wearing one like a hat, and my daughter had painted her room purple using my lipsticks.

He lay limp on the sofa, foetal.

Youre back, he croaked, almost reverently. Thank goodness.

How did it go? I asked, tanned, calm, and thoroughly recharged.

I just dont understand How do you do all this, every day? Its inhuman.

Almost like a full-time job, dont you think?

He was silent. The zombies on telly moaned. So did he.

Im sorry, he whispered at last. Really. Im sorry.

Things changed after that. He learnt to cook three decent meals well, two and a half, really, since the spaghetti is still sometimes crunchy. He found out where the washing machine lives, how to survive parents evenings, and quickly understood that Whats for dinner? isnt a valid question unless hes prepared to answer it himself.

I began travelling every three months. Sometimes alone, sometimes with friends. Always, guilt-free.

Just last week my neighbour eyed me over the fence and asked, wide-eyed, You really leave the kids with your husband and just go off?

Just like that, I nodded. Hes their dad, not the babysitter.

But what if something goes wrong?

Then hell learn. The same way I did, when he left me to deal with everything while he was at important meetings that ended up at the pub.

She went quiet. I spotted her at Gatwick a month later. She was heading to Rome.

Turns out, karma isnt always vengeful. Sometimes it acts as a patient teacher, giving you lessons you were meant to learn long ago. And if you wont learn them willingly, you get an accelerated course in reality.

Nowadays, he boasts to his friends that he can braid our daughters hair. Admittedly, the braids look more like nautical knots, but its the effort that counts.

Last night, he asked, Are you going away again soon? Just so I can brace myself.

Im toying with the idea of Portugal for my birthday, I told him.

He sighed in resignation. How many days?

Ten.

Alright. I know where the first-aid kit is.

I gave him a kiss on the forehead, like you would a brave child off for their jabs.

Is it just me, or do you also think there should be a mandatory Survival Skills at Home 101 before marriage? Perhaps Im not alone, after all.

If theres one lesson in all this, its that sharing the load at home isnt just fair, its essential. Sometimes the best way to learn is simply by doing and by giving each other the chance to try.

I Was Eight When Mum Left Home: She Took a Taxi from the Corner and Never Came Back. My Brother Was Five. From That Day On, Everything in Our House Changed. Dad Started Doing Things He’d Never Done Before—Getting Up Early to Make Breakfast, Learning to Do the Laundry, Ironing Our School Uniforms, Clumsily Brushing Our Hair Before School. I Watched Him Get the Measure of Rice Wrong, Burn Dinners, Forget to Separate Whites and Colours. Yet He Never Let Us Go Without. He’d Come Home Tired from Work, Check Our Homework, Sign Our Books, Make Tomorrow’s Packed Lunches. Mum Never Visited Us Again. Dad Never Brought Another Woman Home, Never Introduced Anyone as His Partner. We Knew He Went Out and Sometimes Stayed Late, But His Personal Life Stayed Outside Our Walls. At Home, It Was Just Me and My Brother. I Never Heard Him Say He Fell in Love Again. His Routine Was Work, Come Home, Cook, Clean, Sleep, Repeat. On Weekends, He’d Take Us to the Park, Wander by the Thames, Visit Shopping Centres—Even Just to Window-Shop. He Learned to Make Plaits, Sew on Buttons, Prepare School Lunches. If We Needed Costumes for School Events, He Made Them from Card and Old Fabric. He Never Complained. He Never Said, “That’s Not My Job.” A Year Ago, My Dad Went to Be With God. It Was Sudden—No Time for Long Goodbyes. While Sorting His Things, I Found Old Notebooks Where He’d Recorded Our Expenses, Important Dates, Notes Like “Pay the Fee,” “Buy Shoes,” “Take the Girl to the Doctor.” I Never Found Love Letters, Photos with Another Woman, or Clues to a Romantic Life. Only the Evidence of a Man Who Lived for His Children. Since He’s Gone, One Question Won’t Let Me Go: Was He Happy? My Mum Left to Find Her Own Happiness. My Dad Stayed, and It Seems He Set Aside His Own. He Never Started Another Family, Never Had a Home With a Partner, Never Became a Priority for Anyone But Us. Now I Realize I Had an Incredible Father. But I Also Understand He Was a Man Who Stayed Alone So We Didn’t Have to Be. And That’s Heavy. Because Now That He’s Gone, I Wonder If He Ever Got the Love He Deserved.

A Parent’s Heart: A Story Thank you so much for your support, for your likes, your engagement and comments on my stories, for following me, and a HUGE thank you from me and my five furry cats for your donations! Please do share any stories you enjoy on social media—it means the world to the author! “Why so glum this morning? Not even a hint of a smile—come on, let’s have breakfast.” Her husband strolled sleepily into the kitchen on their much-needed Saturday morning off. The sizzle of bacon and eggs filled the air, his wife poured out the tea. She plopped most of the eggs onto his plate along with a slice of bread. “Eat up, use your fork.” “Did I do something wrong, Natalie?” Arkady asked gently. “We did, both of us,” Natalie sighed, sitting down and picking at her breakfast, “We didn’t raise our kids right.” “Our daughter and son grew up—we denied ourselves so much while bringing them up. Times were tough, but we supported them all the way. Now who supports us, even just with a few kind words? All they have are problems—bored with life or skint, always the same with both Sarah and Jamie.” “That’s not fair—how do you know?” Arkady had already finished his eggs and happily spread butter and jam on fresh bread. “It’s easy for you—they tell me, their mother. Yesterday Jamie wanted to take his family bowling, asked me to loan him some money. I refused and he got in a strop. Sarah had just phoned before that, totally fed up with her singing career. She wants to earn her living from singing but it just isn’t working out. Sure, singing’s nice, but you need a real job, too! And those two—used to be thick as thieves, now they barely even speak.” Natalie set aside her barely-touched breakfast and took a sip of tea. “Don’t worry, love, things will work out,” Arkady tried to reassure her, but she only grew more agitated. “Oh, you call that advice, Archie? It’s you who should remember. We lived within our means—grateful for everything! When Jamie was born, such happiness. The pram and cot, all passed down from my friend and my sister. Second-hand, but the kids grow so fast. And we were happy! When we bought our old Ford Fiesta we thought we were lords of the manor! Our two? Unless they’ve been abroad, they reckon their lives are a failure—did we teach them that?” “Times are different, Nat, so many temptations—give them time, they’ll understand.” “I just hope it’s not too late, they’ll waste their lives chasing wealth and miss what really matters. It’s strange, looking in the mirror—have I really become a grandma? And you’re a granddad…” A phone call interrupted their talk—it was Jamie’s neighbour from the hospital. “Here we go again,” Natalie answered, and her expression changed with every word. “Arkady, get dressed quickly, Jamie’s been admitted to hospital—he’s hurt his hand badly with a power tool, they’re trying to save it, let’s hope it isn’t as bad as it sounds. Let’s go!” They rushed out, not young, but not old, with worry in their eyes. As they hurried, Sarah rang. “Mum, can I pop round at lunchtime?” “Of course, love, we’ll hopefully be back by then,” Natalie shouted, breathless, as she ran after Arkady. At the hospital, they were reassured—Jamie’s hand could be saved, but they couldn’t see him yet. “I’ll wait right here until we can, I’m not leaving,” Natalie declared, taking a seat, Arkady by her side. Just then, Sarah dashed into the hospital and threw her arms around them. “Mum, why do you look so worried? He’s alright! He just had a mishap fixing someone’s car yesterday, sliced his hand, but they stitched him up—he’s awake and moving his fingers, honestly! Mum, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, it was bad but he’s OK!” “How did you know?” Natalie managed to ask. “Jamie and I always text, and I keep in touch with his wife, too. We do try to help each other, what’s wrong with that?” “We thought you barely spoke anymore—why didn’t you ever say so?” Arkady explained. “Dad, you two are so strong and sorted, you never ask for help—that’s why we try not to worry you. And you both look so young for your age! We keep a little distance so you can enjoy some time for yourselves.” “Well I never, I was sure you didn’t care about us anymore,” Natalie smiled in relief. “Oh mum, your generation is made of such tough stuff—honestly, we try so hard to be like you, but it’s not always easy. But we do try, we really do!” Their anxious expressions softened, replaced by warm smiles. “Mum, Dad, I wanted to tell you—I got a new job! And I’m still singing at all sorts of events. The other day I sang at a care home, and they clapped so much! One lady even wept—her daughter’s a famous singer but is always on tour, so she’s left her mother behind. Can you believe it?” Then, impulsively, Sarah wrapped her parents in a hug. “And Jamie and I love you both so much, don’t ever doubt it.” Just then, the nurse let them see Jamie for a moment. Natalie nearly wept, but Jamie was calm: “Mum, relax, the worst is over. Dad, remember when you were stung by all those wasps and nearly ended up in hospital? Life’s full of close shaves. When I’m out, come round for New Year—we never get together long enough these days! Sarah wants to introduce you to her boyfriend too, I haven’t told you that yet…” Natalie and Arkady walked home, taking their time. Not so young, but not so old—parents all the same. Ah, that parent’s heart—it’s always wrapped up in their children’s lives. It always seems like other people’s kids are just kids, and all you want is for yours to be the best they can, to live the right way, to follow their parents’ advice. But they have their own path, whatever it may be… And our children—well, they’re always ours, and always good, whatever happens.