My husband is the king of the couch, while our neighbor is a real hero. Why is life so unfair?
I’m just twenty-eight, and my husband is thirty-seven. We are a young family with two wonderful children. Living in the 21st century, one would think times have changed, but honestly, it sometimes feels like we’ve stepped back into a traditional past. My Alex holds onto old-fashioned beliefs: a man should earn a living, while a woman should be in charge of cooking and taking out the trash. Isn’t that just absurd?
When we tied the knot, I hoped we’d be partners in every sense — in life, in managing the home, and in caring for our children. I didn’t want any labels like “it’s not a man’s job” or “you can handle it on your own.” But sadly, my Alex considers it beneath him to pick up a mop or even operate the washing machine. He doesn’t mind dusting once a month if I really beg. But making breakfast for the kids? That’s beyond him, as if a frying pan might bite him.
Against this backdrop, I can’t help but talk about someone who truly impresses me: our neighbor. Yes, just an ordinary guy from our building. His name is Ryan.
Ryan and Lucy are a young couple, around thirty, living a floor above us. Lucy is a confident, career-driven woman. She works in a large international company, holds a top position, and drives a luxury car. She’s always elegant, assured, and busy with her work.
Meanwhile, Ryan is currently between jobs. And guess what he does? He’s an amazing father and husband! When their little one was born, he didn’t escape into binge-watching TV. He took paternity leave! Yes, indeed, he did.
You wouldn’t believe how well he manages! He walks with the pram in the mornings, then cooks porridge, washes the baby’s clothes, tidies up, and makes lunch. He’s like a superhero in an apron at home. And their baby has pure joy in their eyes. Ryan doesn’t dream of being anywhere else — he lives for his family.
Lucy comes home from work with a smile for him every day. Watching them, it’s hard not to feel a twinge of envy. They look like they’ve stepped out of a picture of marital bliss: loving, respectful, making all decisions together — from nappies to vacation plans.
One day, I saw him mopping the floor and singing to the baby in the crib, and it made my heart ache. Not because my husband is a bad person, but because he doesn’t aspire to be like that. Alex believes that taking care of the home isn’t for a “real man.”
Occasionally, I hint to Alex about how Ryan plays in the park with his son or cooks dinner. He just smirks and says, “Well, if he’s that bored.” Or: “Lucy will probably leave him; women get tired of men like that.” And it makes me want to scream.
Isn’t it funny and sad: is caring really a weakness? Is love only about paying the bills?
I don’t dream of Alex preparing gourmet stews or embroidering pillows. I just wish he’d occasionally say, “I’ve got this, take a break,” or surprise me with breakfast in bed now and then, or simply take the little one and say, “Go, have a nap.” But no. He believes this is strictly a woman’s role. He’s just the breadwinner.
So, when I see Ryan, I want to applaud. Not because he’s better than my husband, but because he’s different. Because he knows how to show love through actions, not just words. Because he isn’t afraid to be “unlike” the man he was told to be growing up. Because he had the courage to be a genuinely good person.
Maybe one day Alex will realize that love is not just about earning money. That a woman’s happiness isn’t limited to getting flowers on Mother’s Day, but in feeling seen and appreciated every day. Meanwhile, I simply hope my kids have a father like Ryan someday.
Because true masculinity isn’t about the strength of your arms; it’s about the strength of your heart. And sadly, not everyone was taught how to learn this.
