Thank you, but I’m not interested in that kind of holiday!
“I’ve got great news!” announced Alex as he stepped into the apartment. “We’re going on holiday!”
Mary, however, didn’t share the enthusiasm expected under the circumstances, which surprised her. Alex had long talked about a holiday together somewhere by the warm sea—a lovely escape from the dreary, damp city. It seemed like the plans were finally becoming a reality. So, where were the expected emotions?
It seemed Alex noticed his wife’s lack of excitement. He frowned, “Mary, what’s going on? Changed your mind?”
“No,” Maria sighed, trying to pinpoint the issue. “Just… Where do you plan to go?”
Alex immediately began to describe his vision of their vacation. Indonesia, a tropical paradise, secluded islands, komodo dragons…
“Komodo dragons, can you imagine?” he said with excitement. “I’ve always dreamed of seeing them!”
Mary couldn’t quite picture it. She’d only seen pictures of those dragons online, and they appeared scary and intimidating to her. She felt no desire to see those gigantic lizards.
“Alex…” she hesitated, “Maybe Turkey instead? You know, the classic all-inclusive—hotel, beach, entertainers, buffet? I mean, we are going to relax, not risk our lives.”
“What do you mean?” Alex frowned again. “What risks? The tours are led by an experienced guide who won’t let anything happen.”
Mary just waved her hand. Perhaps “anything” wouldn’t happen, but it wouldn’t feel like a vacation to her. She just wanted to lounge on a beach, sunbathe, and sip cola—not chase after dragons with a camera. But since Alex funded most of their travels, she had to consider his opinion and agree.
Her husband continued to talk at length about how great it would be to stay in a seaside bungalow, try national dishes, explore…
Mary half-listened, aware that Alex had already made up his mind. Her opinion didn’t seem to matter much.
That had always been the case. Alex decided everything himself—from which household appliances to buy, which preschool to enroll their son in, to the color of the wallpaper. Sure, his choices were reasonable and often good. But when it came to their shared experiences, Mary couldn’t just go along.
Until recently, Maria had agreed with her husband on everything. Though she hated the color red, she drove the red car. She vacationed in wild places he chose, even though she preferred a typical seaside holiday in Brighton. She visited water parks instead of botanical gardens, and on it went.
Initially, Mary tried convincing herself that it was all for the best. That her husband was merely expanding her horizons, pulling her out of her comfort zone, and so on.
Alex had always been very active—embracing new trends, styles, and hobbies. Mary, on the other hand, was more conservative. But her parents were always in awe of Alex’s wide range of interests. And Mary had never managed to argue against that trio.
Over time, she stopped arguing altogether. She tried to embrace the lifestyle imposed upon her. She took up skiing under Alex’s guidance, almost broke her leg, but even a day in the emergency room didn’t convince him she wasn’t athletic. She began swimming, though she’d disliked water since childhood and only dipped her feet in the sea.
Many such examples existed. Initially, these activities brought some novelty to Mary’s life, but gradually, they replaced excitement with boredom.
Mary couldn’t understand what was happening to her. Alex remained as enthusiastic and inspired as ever, bubbling over with new—one more outrageous than the last—ideas and finding ways to achieve his dreams. And Mary simply followed him like she was tied.
Sometimes she truly felt tied—no longer an independent person, but someone who was expected to think like Alex, love what he loved, and so on.
“Fine,” she finally sighed. “You’ve already decided and planned everything. Shouldn’t you ask me?”
Alex dismissed it with a wave. “But I’m doing this for your own good, and you don’t appreciate it!”
“If I did ask, what then?” he said. “You’d drag me back to that boring Turkey again!”
“Again?” Mary exclaimed. “What do you mean, ‘again’? Have we ever been there?”
Alex opened his mouth to reply but didn’t have time. Mary carried on:
“Have you ever asked me where I want to go on holiday, how I want to live, what car to drive? No! You decide everything! Mary this, Mary that, do this, enjoy that, but why? For your convenience? To boast to your friends about your clever, athletic wife and how you two are so well matched? Is that it? Or living your dreams? What about my dreams? Thank you, but I’m not interested in that kind of holiday!”
Mary paused. There was a lump in her throat, tears welling up.
“But I love you…” Alex seemed bewildered and upset by this unexpected outburst from his usually quiet and obedient wife.
“No!” Mary disagreed sharply. “When you love someone, you don’t act this way! You ask what they want, dream about. You don’t just stroke your own ego!”
Feeling the tears about to flow, Mary fled the room.
“That’s it, she’s had enough! Let him photograph his own antics and dragons if they mean more than his wife!”
***
Mary sat at the kitchen table, staring out the window. She’d almost calmed down, at least she’d stopped crying. She’d thought badly of her husband, felt angry, cried again, felt more angry. Finally, she settled down, though her heart still held onto a tinge of hurt and sorrow.
The door shut, and a moment later, Alex appeared in the kitchen doorway. He silently placed some papers on the table.
“What’s this?” Mary looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise.
“New tickets,” Alex said calmly. “I changed them. We’re going to Brighton.”
“Really?” Mary smiled, thinking she should have spoken up years ago.
Mary blinked and looked at him with gratitude. Alex hugged her and kissed her forehead. “Forgive me, my dear. I love you, Mary.”
