Between my mother and my wife, I chose silence and that turned out to be my greatest mistake
I thought I was remaining neutral. At least, thats what I told myself.
When my mother started criticising my wife at first in jest, then more openly I kept quiet. Id smile awkwardly, try to steer the conversation elsewhere. I convinced myself that if I didnt add fuel to the fire, things would eventually settle down.
Shes just like that, Id tell my wife.
Dont take it so seriously, Id tell my mother.
Both would nod. Both would leave, discontent lingering in the air.
My silence seemed a fair compromise. Sensible, even. The proper thing for a man to do. I believed that if I chose no side, the tension would simply ebb away.
But it didnt.
My mother began popping round unannounced, tidying up because apparently she could do it better, offering advice that nobody had asked for.
My wife retreated into herself, her smile fading, her conversation growing rarer.
Say something, she whispered to me once, after my mum had left the flat.
I dont want an argument, I said, softly.
The truth was I was frightened.
Frightened of hurting my mother.
Of seeming ungrateful.
Of making a choice.
So I kept quiet, and in the space left by my silence, my mother and my wife spoke for me.
My mum took my quietness as approval.
My wife, as betrayal.
One evening, I arrived home late. The flat was unusually still. My wifes handbag wasnt in the hallway. A gap in the wardrobe stood out, obvious and cold.
A note was sitting on the dining table.
I never wanted to force you to choose. That is why Im leaving.
I rang her. No answer. Sent a message. Nothing.
I went to visit my mother.
Shes being dramatic, she insisted. I only ever wanted whats best for you.
For the first time, I didnt quite believe her.
I sat in my car and let the silence stretch realisation dawning, bleak and unyielding.
I hadnt kept the peace.
I had destroyed it.
Because silence isnt neutral.
It always takes a side.
But never the side of love.
Now the flat is silent. Honestly silent.
No arguments.
No tension.
No her.
And for the first time, I understand that sometimes the worst mistake isnt what you say
But what you leave unsaid.
Do you believe silence heals or only delays the inevitable loss?
