Between my mother and my wife, I chose silence and that became my greatest mistake
I thought I wasnt taking sides. Or so I believed.
When my mother began criticising my wifeat first with a laugh, and then more plainlyI simply kept quiet. Id force a stiff smile, distract everyone with another subject, thinking it wiser not to stoke the flames.
Shes just like that, Id explain to my wife.
Dont dwell on it so much, Id tell my mother.
Both nodded. Both departed dissatisfied.
Silence seemed like compromise. It felt like calm reason and proper manliness, as if not choosing would help tension settle quietly by itself.
But it never did.
Mother started appearing without warning. Tidying things up her way. Offering advice that was never asked for.
My wife drew inwards, her smile fading day by day. Words became scarce between us.
Say something, she once breathed after my mother left.
I dont want a row, I replied.
The truth was, I was afraid.
Afraid of hurting my mother.
Afraid Id seem ungrateful.
Afraid of having to choose.
In my silence, they began to speak for me.
Mother took it as endorsement.
My wife took it as betrayal.
One evening, I came home late. The flat felt strangely still. My wife’s handbag was gone. The wardrobe was missing all her things.
On the table, a note:
I never wanted you to have to choose. Thats why Im leaving.
I rang her. She didnt answer. I texted. Nothing.
I went to my mother.
Shes being dramatic, Mum huffed. I only wanted the best for you.
For the first time, I didn’t entirely believe her.
I sat in the car for a long time, hands idle on the wheel. The realisation crept over meslow and cutting.
I hadnt kept the peace.
Id shattered it.
Because silence is never neutral.
It always takes a side.
But never the side of love.
Now, the flat is quiet. Truly quiet.
No arguing.
No tension.
No her.
For the first time, I see: sometimes, the worst mistake is not what you say
but what you leave unspoken.
Do you think silence ever saves or only delays the loss?
