I took my sister-in-law and her young son with us on holiday. I must have regretted it a thousand times.
A Chaotic Closet, Piles of Unironed Clothes, and Sour Soup in the Fridge—This Is Our Home. When I Tried to Gently Talk with My Wife About It, I Ended Up Accused Instead
I Fell in Love with Mary at First Sight—Completely Smitten by Her Beauty and Charm, I Thought I Was the Luckiest Man Alive. She Was Smart, Attractive, and Immaculately Clean, So I Proposed Without Hesitation.
When We Moved In Together, Mary Made It Clear She Didn’t Like Housework, Preferring to Focus on Her Career and Split Chores Evenly. That Seemed Fair to Me, So I Agreed—Unaware of What the Future Held.
At First, We Managed, but Six Months Later Nothing Went as Planned. Mary’s Job Hopes Didn’t Pan Out—She Was Stuck in a Part-Time, Unstable Position, Spending Her Earnings on Herself While I Worked Relentlessly All Day. Still, Mary Strictly Remembered the ‘Equal’ Division of Labour, Sometimes Ignoring Her Share.
Her Enthusiasm Faded, and Soon the House Was Overrun with Clutter and Unironed Laundry. To My Shock, She Blamed Me, Saying I Should Do More to Help, Even Though We’d Agreed on Fairly Sharing Everything. I Struggled to Juggle Work and Keeping the House Together, Hurt That the Responsibility Had Fallen on Me.
I Hoped Things Would Improve After Our Baby’s Birth, Thinking Mary Would Take Care of the Home While on Maternity Leave—But It Only Got Worse. Sometimes I Wonder If I’d Be Better Off Without My Wife, Especially with Arguments Becoming Daily Life.
I Try to Empathise with Her Point of View, But I Can’t Shake the Feeling That My Own Needs Are Ignored. I Work Hard at the Office and at Home, Longing for a Moment’s Rest.
Now I’m Left Questioning What Mary Does All Day During Maternity Leave—Why Can’t She Make Dinner or Tidy Up When Our Two-Month-Old Sleeps Most of the Time? Sometimes I Think I Could Handle the Housework If Our Roles Were Reversed. I Worry What Will Happen If We Have Another Child. I’m Committed to Equality and Mutual Support, but It Feels Like Mary Finds That Concept Difficult to Grasp.
I Love My Child and Don’t Want to Ruin Our Family, But I’m at My Wit’s End—How Can I Keep Going Like This? Whose Side Are You On? A chaotic wardrobe, heaps of un-ironed clothes, and a pot of sour soup forgotten in the fridgethis is our home.
Our Foolish Children Chose to Play at Being Independent and Ended Up in Debt and Losing Their Home
When our children got married, both sets of parents decided to help them with housing. My husband and I had some savings, as did my in-laws. We pooled our money together and it turned out to be enough for a small flat. We wanted to buy it for our children right away, but they said they were independent and would buy it themselves.
Some time later, we found out that yes, they had bought a flat—a three-bedroom one. And where did the money come from? They’d taken out a bank loan to buy the flat. Who would pay off the monthly payments? They assured us they could afford it.
Then we found out they wanted a car too. Their flat was far from work and public transport was inconvenient. They bought a brand new car on finance, straight from a showroom, though we’d suggested they get a used one. Again, they insisted they were independent and knew best.
Next, they wanted a child—preferably born abroad so they could secure citizenship there. Once again, they borrowed money so their daughter could give birth in good conditions, with a doctor always available.
She gave birth. Then they wanted to renovate the baby’s room, so took out another loan. When we asked, “Who will pay?”—”Ourselves, we are independent.”
And then misfortune struck—my son-in-law was laid off from work, and my daughter was on maternity leave. No more money. How would they pay off all those loans? They asked us to sell our countryside cottage. We didn’t want to, but had to do it so they wouldn’t default. Sadly, it wasn’t enough.
Then they had to sell the flat, and eventually the car too. They moved in with their in-laws. Now they complain they have nothing of their own. Of course—because they didn’t listen to us. The loans are still not paid off—it will take several more years. Nothing but sadness and tears. Foolish children, thinking they could dance alone along the foggy banks of independence, wandered off
During their divorce, a wealthy husband chose to leave his wife with a derelict farm, abandoned and lost
The dog doesnt know the simplest things What should I do? A few years ago, my mother-in-law slipped away
Without a Bit of Luck, Thered Be No Joy How could he have left you, you daft thing! Whos going to take
My dear is still married to his wife and has a daughter. I love my husband very much. We’
The One-Woman Man
On the Day of His Wife’s Funeral, Fyodor Didn’t Shed a Tear—”You See, I Told You He Never Loved Zina,” Tosia Whispered to Her Neighbor. “Hush Now, What Difference Does It Make? The Children Are Orphans Now, with a Father Like That.”—”You’ll See, He’ll Marry Katie Soon Enough,” Tosia Assured Lelya. “Why Katie? She Wants Nothing to Do with Him. Glafira Was Always His True Love, Or Have You Forgotten How They Used to Sneak Around the Barns? Katie Has a Family and Moved On from Him Long Ago.”
Zinaida Was Buried. The Children Clung to Each Other. Misha and Pauline Had Just Turned Eight. Though Zina Married Fyodor for Love, No One, Not Even She, Knew If He Truly Loved Her. Rumor Had It She Married Him Because She Fell Pregnant. Their First Child, Klavdy, Was Born Premature and Didn’t Survive; For Years Afterwards, There Were No More Children Until God Granted Twins—Pauline, Who Took After Fyodor, and Misha, Gentle Like His Mother. Fyodor Was Stern, Called “Lone Wolf” By Villagers for His Silence and Lack of Affection.
When Zina Died, She Entrusted Misha With Protecting His Twin Sister. “You’re the Man of the House Now, Promise Me You’ll Care for Her,” She Said Before Passing.
Fyodor Sat Wordless at His Late Wife’s Side. Life Slowly Settled—Pauline Tried to Manage the Household, But Needed Aunt Natalia’s Guidance. Villagers Whispered: Maybe Fyodor Would Marry Again, Perhaps to Glafira, His Old Flame—though Such Gossip Was Met with Chiding from the Parish Council Chairman, Maxim Leonard.
Glafira Had Loved Fyodor Once, But Married Mitya Instead; Still, Old Sparks Began Rumored to Fly. Yet Fyodor Stayed True to Zina’s Memory. Even When Glafira Approached Him With Homemade Pies, He Refused, Remaining Loyal to His Wife, Even After Death.
Years Passed, the Twins Grew Up. Aunt Natalia, Still Helping Them, Maintained That Her Brother Had Only Loved One Woman. When Pauline Confided She Loved Grisha Voronin “for Ever,” Natalia Cautioned Her That Sometimes Love Lasts a Lifetime—and Sometimes, If Betrayed, There’s No Loving Again.
On Fridays, Pauline Secretly Followed Her Father to the Cemetery, Where He’d Whisper to Zina’s Grave All He Couldn’t Say in Life—For Fyodor, the Lone Wolf, Had Told Her Everything with His Heart. THE ONE-LOVE MAN On the day of his wifes funeral, Edward didnt shed a single tear. See for yourself
Why Bring Your Own Food?
For Five Years, I Cooked and Hosted Christmas Alone for My Husband’s Sister and Brother and Their Families—Last Year I Divided the Work, But Now They Won’t Help, and My Mother-in-Law Wants Another Celebration at My House. When I Asked Everyone to Share the Cooking—Me Making Two Hot Dishes and Cake, The Rest Bringing Salads, Fish, Meat, Cheese, Fruit, and Drinks—Suddenly No One Had Time, and They Said They’d Rather Celebrate at Home. Now I Don’t Know How to Tell My Mother-in-Law, Who Will Be Very Upset—Should I Host Christmas Alone Again This Year, or Stand My Ground? Why Should You Bring Your Own Food? For the past five years, my husbands sister and brother, with their
My Younger Brother Chose to Live with His Mother-in-Law, and We Still Can’t Understand Why He Did This…
My younger brother got married far too young, at just 18. It felt like he was desperate to assert his independence.
From the moment he was born, I looked after him – my own childhood ended the day he came home from the hospital. As he grew up, got married and moved out, his life changed dramatically, unfortunately not in a good way.
His wife, whom he married at a similarly young age, had a strong and rather unpleasant personality. From the first day we met, we never liked her. She lacked tact and basic manners, and we weren’t impressed by her appearance either. I couldn’t understand what my brother saw in her. They moved into a flat just down the road from us, at his mother-in-law’s. His father-in-law was a quiet, slightly odd man – he barely spoke, and when he did, it was mostly a nod. His mother-in-law loved being in control, barking out orders that everyone felt obliged to obey. She was constantly criticising and reprimanding my brother, and his wife was never satisfied with him either.
The way they treated my brother infuriated me. I tried to speak to him about it, but he insisted everything was fine, that his wife loved him and they were happy with their life. However, over time, I noticed he changed. He became like his father-in-law, barely voicing his own opinions, just nodding along. In the end, his patience ran out; he simply couldn’t take it anymore. One day, he packed up his things and left without a word.
I’d never seen anything like it before – my brother in that state… He bitterly regretted marrying so young.
Everyone has their breaking point, and when you reach it, sometimes the only option is to quietly walk away from an intolerable situation. You know, I still cant quite figure out why my little brother decided to go live with his mother-in-law.
