My mum never cheated.
There was never a third person in their marriage.
But shes always been difficult to live with.
She constantly complains about everything.
Nothing is ever good enough for her.
If my dad came home exhausted from work, shed scold him for not helping around the house.
If he did help, shed complain he was doing it all wrong.
If he brought home groceries, shed say it wasnt what she wanted.
If he didnt cheat, shed hint that he wasnt behaving like a “real man.” I remember those silent evenings, the tense dinners, the doors slamming hard.
My dad tried to endure for years.
I watched him change jobs to earn more money, stop meeting up with friends, and go straight home every night.
But my mum always found something to nitpick.
Shed go through his clothes, ask who hed spoken to that day, what time he left work, why he was five minutes late coming back.
There was never any physical abuse or explosive arguments, just a heavy, relentless, exhausting atmosphere.
Living there felt like tiptoeing around, hoping not to trigger another outburst.
The night my dad left wasnt because of another woman.
It happened after a long argument.
I was in my room, and I overheard him say, I cant do this anymore.
Im tired of feeling like Im never enough. Mum snapped back that if he left, he was a coward.
He didnt shout.
He quietly packed his things and walked out.
I rushed to the window and watched him leave, walking slowly, not once looking back.
Afterwards, mum told her version of the story.
She said he abandoned her, left her alone, didnt have the backbone to be a real husband.
I believed her.
For years, I was angry with him.
Id see him rarely and speak to him coldly.
He never said a bad word about my mum or tried to justify himself.
He only told me he loved me and that he respected my feelings.
As time went by, I started noticing that mum treated me the same way.
Nothing I did was good enough.
If I studied, it wasnt good enough.
If I worked, it wasnt the right job.
If I rested, I was lazy.
And then I realised something painful: my dad didnt leave because of infidelity, but from emotional exhaustion.
Recently, I spoke openly with him.
I asked point-blank why he left.
He told me, Because I was losing myself.
I started to believe I really wasnt worth anything. I cried a lot that day because I realised Id judged him without knowing the whole truth.
Now, my parents are still separated.
Mum is the same dissatisfied, bitter, in conflict with everyone.
Dad lives on his own, quietly, with no drama.
And I carry this strange mix of guilt and relief inside me.
Guilt for not understanding him sooner, and relief because now I know Im not all the awful things my mum says I am.
