Few years back, I was peeling boiled eggs for breakfast. I had a plastic bag opened on the counter to keep the peels before I throw the bag in the trash. My husband came in the kitchen and sat at the table and we were talking about general things. He saw that I was planning on throwing the egg peels in the trash and he told me not to do that. He said throw the egg peels in the garbage disposal. He explained that the peels sharpens the blades of the disposal. I dismissed his comment and kept doing what I was doing. I have never heard of such a thing and thought there is no harm in throwing the peels in the trash. So As I kept doing what I was doing before he came to the kitchen, to fix breakfast.

After a short minute, he repeated himself and told me that I should throw the peels in the garbage disposal. I asked him, why would he want me to do that? and he said because it sharpens the blades of the garbage disposal. He explained to me that it is actually a good thing to do for the garbage disposal, plus we’ll have less waste. I felt that now that he had a reason for this request, I should do it. I got all the egg peels and dumped them in the garbage disposal and ran the disposal.

This disposal was newly installed, less than a month’s old and it was supposed to be the toughest strength. When I turned on the power for the disposal, it started to work at first but then it regurgitated everything back into the sink with lots of water and it stopped working. The sink was full of what looked like a vomit and was not allowing any water to flow through the pipe. I couldn’t continue working from that sink, had to go to the guest bathroom to continue working and wash the dishes after we were done.

When he saw the mess, he was mad at me for clogging the sink. He told me that we’re now going to hire a plumber to fix this. When I told him that I did what he insisted I do, he again through all this back at me that he only meant to put one egg peel in the garbage disposal, not all five eggs.

That day started out normal but ended up a big mess. Actually the whole week was messy and extra work for me but I don’t it was really bad because he did not blow up in my face and ended up crying like I usually do.

Why would anyone get married if “happily Ever After” is not the goal? Why did my husband marry me when he was just pretending he was in love with me? He must’ve known he wasn’t in love with me or had doubts, so why did he marry me? I’ve asked myself this question many times and early in our marriage, I have asked him this question too. Being hi usual self, he always yelled and screamed when he does not have an answer to a question.

Over the years, I stopped asking because it became evident that he just never loved me. I truly believe that my husband does not know what love means. Even though I know he does not love anyone more than he loves our son, he still treats him badly and does not show him love. He tells him he loves him but he does not treat him with love. My husband would go through motions that he has heard from others that he should do, but he never goes through these motions genuinely, it always looks and feels robotic.

My husband grew up in a family where love of money superseded love of everything else. He was the oldest of four siblings; twin girls came 2 years after him, and a boy 5 years younger than my husband. His parents gave more attention to his siblings than they did to him and he never forgave them for doing so. He grew up mastering the art of passively hurting his siblings, and getting them in trouble with his parents and other adults. He grew up hearing his parents talking in public how the mother’s favorite kids are the twin girls, and the dad’s is the youngest boy. This is very hurtful to a young boy so he always wanted to hurt his siblings because of it. Another thing that I noticed my husband always was bothered with, was when we show sympathy for someone. He always resented that and argued that the person has done nothing to get sympathy. I always wondered why he was so harsh in his judgements. After many years of marriage, my son told me one time that his dad used to only feel loved when his parents cared about him when he got sick and hurt. That is the only way he was shown love so he resented everyone who got that love because that’s the only kind of love he knew.

That’s why my husband never understood me when I truly loved him. I worked full time, I raised our son, I took him to school and back and all after hours activities, I cooked and took care of the house, I left work if the plumber or electrician had to come home, I arranged our social engagements, and I received no appreciations or no feeling of job well done. I now know its because showing appreciations means, in his mind, that I am better than him and he could not fathom it.

Over time, and because he could not love me or be a family man, he spent all his energy on saving money. Basically reverting back to his family’s first love. He took everything we made and put in banks, stocks, and even though I cannot prove it, in safety deposit box. I used to ask him for money for gas or drs. copays, and always hear the “I don’t have it” respond. He always had it but he always said he didn’t so I would go away. Most of the times I did go away, I did ask others for the money, or I charged on card that I could not pay.

I wanted us to be a family, I wanted us to love one another and live together until the end of times. I wanted us to read each others wants and needs by just looking at each other, but all he ever wanted is money.

When our son went to a college out of town, I started going to the gym in the morning and coming to work around 9 or 9:30 in the morning. My husband does not know what time I come to work. When I pulled in on April 15 2016, and his car pulled in right behind me, I knew he was following me. He got out of the car in his anger persona and walked up to my car where I had just got out of. I was taken by surprise, did not know what was happening. He was holding a stack of papers and pushed them on the car and told me to sign our taxes. I had no problem signing the taxes, but had no idea why was he walking and acting in an angry mood.

I looked at the tax return and noticed we’ve made close to a million dollars that year. Knowing that I never gotten a penny from that nor will I ever do, I just wanted to make a conversation and hopefully ease the tension a little. I said “Wow, we made this much money last year?” He immediately talked over me and said “I did. you need to work harder to make us some money, I do all the money making. Just sign the tax returns”. He talked in the voice that had always frightened me and it didn’t change at this time. I was scared of him. My body was shivering and my hand was shaking, and I signed it. He grabbed it in his angry attitude and waked real fast to his car, got in and drove away.

after he left, I felt like I’ve just been in a huge car crash. My whole body was shaking and numb. I walked in defeat inside the building and sat down in my office chair and started to cry. I don’t want any money from my husband. I work a lot and make good money that I am blessed to make and give to the needy and enjoy life with. I never asked him for money since I opened my own business that I started with 0 money from him, I had help from other family members but he paid nothin for me to start this business.

He knew I was going to notice the large amount of money we made last year. That money wasn’t because of his salary increase nor mine, it was because we had another business that we sold for a good profit. Him insulting me and telling me that I don’t make much money was just an attack in case I had the nerve to ask for my share of the money we made. It was a pre-emptive attack that he has no problem doing because he cares nothing about me, and cares a lot about the money he keeps.

I turned 50 on a Saturday. When I got out of bed, I expected at the very least a “Happy Birthday” greeting from my husband, but there was nothing. My son had math homework so I went with him downstairs if he needed help. We spent many hours downstairs and my husband came down few times to check on us. When my son was done, I went up to my room to get ready because my cousin had invited me to her house. She had a “Red Hat Society” party and thought since this organization only accept ladies who are 50 and older, that inviting on my 50th birthday would be appropriate.

My husband never organized any birthday celebrations for me, every year my parents or other relatives would have me over for a dinner and my husband always attended these dinners. I, on the other hand, always celebrated his birthdays in very big ways. His birthday is on January 1st, and I always had a big open house brunch on that day to celebrate his birthday. It didn’t matter how late we stay up the night before, if I had to go without any sleep, I would just to celebrate my husband’s birthdays. We would normally get at least 50 to 60 people on his birthdays in our small house but that did not matter to me. The only thing that mattered was to make him feel important and celebrated.

On my 50th birthday, he didn’t say or do anything. I went to my cousin’s house and she told me that my husband had sent flowers to her house for me. She and all the people there thought that my husband was so wonderful and nice for doing that. He did it for that exact purpose; to have all the people there thing highly of him. He did not want me to be happy, he didn’t care about that, only what other people think of him.

My husband had many chances over the years to show me that he cared, that he is truly a husband and family man, but he, unfortunately, never did.

When his Florida job was about to end, his old company called and left a message on our answering machine letting him know that they are rehiring x-employees and would like to ask if he wanted to go back to work there. My son and I were at home, heard the recording and called him immediately and were very excited that he’ll have a job as soon as the current job ends. He was happy to hear this good news, took the name and number of the caller and told me he’ll call him.

After that day, every time I asked him about that job and the possibility of him going to work there, he always answered me with “I don’t know yet” or “I have not heard yet”. Then he started painting a grim picture telling me that his current job is almost finished and he has no prospect, he does not know what to do and his famous way of insinuating to us not having money. Every time he made me feel poor, I always tried to help by either getting another job, or asked my family for help, or gave him options to get jobs himself. At that time, I did not have any option; I’ve taken too much money from my family and I had a full time job and was busy with our son’s school and after school activities.

Every time I checked with him about new prospect for a job he always replied in a negative way letting me know how bad he feels and that we’re just going to have to cut all our expenses to zero until something happens. That’s when I became very depressed; saw a very grim picture of our lives, expected we sell our home and just live on my income until he gets another job.

All this was going on while he was working in Florida with an every two weeks break for one long weekend. He always left from our town at the 3 pm flight back to Florida. One of those weekend trips, he left very early on Monday morning to catch his flight. When I asked him why was he changing his flight times, he just told me he has a lot of work to do and needed to go back early. All along, he is telling me how bad he feels that we are going to have to sell our home if he doesn’t get another job. We might move to another city since his expertise requires him working with large corporations and there are very few big firms in our small town. Every time he talked like that, I slipped deeper and deeper in depression. I did not want to move away from here, I did not want to find new home, new friends, and be away from my family.

His talks of not having a job increased and I was more unhappy and depressed here alone trying to cope with being a working mom, taking care of the house, chores, son, and a full time job while knowing we’re about to be homeless, as he always reminded me we would soon be.

On the Wednesday before his last day of work in Florida, when my son and I came home, we heard a message on our answering machine giving my husband instructions on where to go and who to see on his first day back to work starting the following Monday. Even at that time, I was still dumb and believed his lies, I was so happy that I planned a surprise celebration dinner for him when he arrive on Friday.

He knew all about it. He had gone there, interviewed, got the job, scheduled his start date, and chose not to tell me about it. He wanted me to be in pain agonizing over where would our next meal come from. At that time, when we picked him up from the airport and went home for a celebration dinner, I had no idea of the size of his cruelty. My son and I decorated the house and I cooked a nice meal. Picked him up from the airport and were going to celebrate when we got home but when we got home and told him what we were celebrating, he asked me “Oh you knew about that?”. That’s when it hit me, he was planning to get the sympathy treatment where I submit to every demand afraid to bother him and if possible, get him money from others just to please him. He knew months ago that he had gotten the job, he just hid it from me while I got hurt more and more thinking where we’d be very soon. He didn’t care about how I felt, even though my hurt and sad feelings could possibly transfer to our son, but as long as he was happy, who cares about the rest!

For most of our married life, we would go to sleep either together or separately, but an hour or two into the night my husband’s snoring would wake me up and I cannot go to sleep. What I used to do, was take my pillow and go finish up my sleep in the spare room. He used to get upset with me but I could not help myself. If I did not have to get up early and go to work, I probably would’ve stayed in our bed but I couldn’t sustain myself on just 2 to 3 hours of sleep. I’ve always had stressful jobs and could not risk not preforming well. He took what I was doing as abandonment and could not understand there are other people around him who might have needs and concerns, especially if one of those people is me.

About 10 to 12 years ago, my husband decided to teach me a lesson and started leaving bed whenever I get in. He would do it in a way where as soon as I get in, he would get up in disgust and anger, take his pillow and leave. It was like I stunk or something. He was too lazy to go sleep in the spare room which was in the basement, so he would go to our son’s room. At first, he would sleep on the floor there and after a short while, he got tired of sleeping on the floor, he would get in bed with our son. I hated that and my son hated it more. His bed is full size and he was uncomfortable going to sleep and then his dad would get in bed with him. To avoid that, I started going to sleep in the spare room, but that still did not stop my husband of going to sleep in our son’s room. My son asked me to get his dad out of his bed and out of his room and I wanted to handle it in the most appropriate way so he won’t think I am accusing him of wrongdoings.

The only way I could help with this was to talk to the same family friend couple that we ask for help doing our disagreements. But even that was tough because I did not want them to get the wrong idea but I needed to do something. My goal was to get him out of our son’s room and I stopped caring what he or anyone else thought.

I went to them and talked to them and they told him he should stop sleeping in his 11 years old son’s room. He was very angry with me because I made him do something he did not want to do but honestly, I Just Did Not Care.

What is unbelievable is that if I had gone to my husband and told him that one of our friends is going to sleep in him child’s room or bed, he would think the worst of that person. He would talk badly about him and accuse him of several disgusting things. Yet, when he does it, his ego doesn’t think there is anything wrong with it.

In 2003 I volunteered to work in Iraq to help with the Iraq war. I was there from January to May of 2004. During that time, everyone and every group wanted to hear personal experiences from people who have gone there. I was invited to many rotary clubs, seromas, and kiwani clubs all around the State.

My husband told me one day that there is a group of people who asked him if we could spend time with them so they could hear first hand accounts about what really was going on in Iraq. They invited us to a private room of a local Chinese restaurant for dinner. I was willing to do so because at the time, I did not feel the media was telling the full story of what was going on in Iraq.

On our way to the restaurant to meet these people, my husband turns to me in the car and says “you need to stay quiet when we’re there, let me do the talking”. I was not sure why he said that, thought that he had some business dealings with these people and wanted to steer the conversation to talk about working together. I nodded in agreement and off we went.

When we got there, everyone in the group were directing there questions directly at me and did not want to hear anything my husband was saying. As soon as we went there, people came to greet me and asked me about my trip to Iraq. After a short while, we had dinner and they organized the chairs in a circle and they started asking specific questions about my trip to Iraq; how long I stayed? how were the Iraqis? how were the US military? where did I stay? what did I work on? etc. there were no questions directed to him or about his knowledge of Iraq. My husband is very knowledgeable in the history and political climate of Iraq, but it didn’t seem that anyone in this group was interested in that at all.

During the casual conversation, I wasn’t thinking of what he told me earlier; to keep quiet. I couldn’t keep quiet anyway. There was no way that I get asked a question about my stay in Iraq and defer the answer to him. At that time, I was the only one who has gone to Iraq, I knew the correct answer, and they were asking me, not him. I assumed that he became friend with this group due to some common interest about Iraq and he has already answered all the historical and political questions before this get together. It felt like we were all having a good time, including my husband. The whole event lasted less than 2 hours, we said our goodbyes and headed home.

When we got in the car, I was in a good mood and was talking about how nice these people are. He was quiet. I asked his where he knew them from, he said that he did not know them. They called the house and he answered and arranged everything. I was surprised, and asked his again “You didn’t know them at all?” he said “No”. I asked him “then why did you ask me not to say anything?” and he said “No Reason”. I didn’t like what he said and said to him “you just did not want me to talk knowing that hey called and invited me to talk to them about Iraq?”. He said that he didn’t want me to talk because he knows that I don’t know anything and I just babble on and on with no substance and knowledge of any subject I talk about. I suddenly left my happy place and went to a deep deep dark place where there is no light to exit from. I stayed quiet the rest of the car ride and as soon as we got home, I went downstairs in the basement in a quiet room to cry quielty.

When the call came in, they asked specifically for me to go to that dinner and speak to them about my experience in Iraq and he knew it. Because of his stupid ego, he didn’t turn them down. He wanted to go and be seen and hopefully would steal the spotlight. He then tried to get me not to talk so he would be in the spotlight. But since he had not been to Iraq, the group wanted to hear from my personal experience, all questions were directed at me. And when his plan did not work, he turned to the act that always works for him, To Attack and Demean Me.

When my son was born, my husband kept talking about how he’ll never wear sneakers. I was knocking down how parents in the US just let their kids wear sneaker. He would yell at me if I tell him that it’s better for our son to wear comfortable shoes vs leather ones. His argument was that I don’t know what I’m talking about, his leather shoes are very comfortable. I did not want our son to be wearing different type of clothes or shoes just because his dad does not approve of them. There is not reason he was pushing for these things; not a cultural reason, or religious reason. It was because he just wanted things to be done as he says even if they are wrong.

He always talked about how proper our son has to dress, no t-shirts, no sneakers, shirts must be tucked in, etc. etc. Our son was still a toddler and my husband won’t stop talking about these things. Thankfully non of these items were available for toddlers so we were ok for that time frame but I was very worried for later. My husband went to England for college and he always felt that he belonged there, not the US.

One morning, while our son was still sleeping, during breakfast, my husband started the conversation on how he never wants to see our son in casual clothing, and he kept going on and on. I told my husband that I needed to leave to go to buy groceries, and will be back in about an hour or so. When I came back, I saw my husband walking outside in our neighborhood and our son on his tricycle still wearing his pajamas. I waved at them and went home. After the came home, I took my son to his room to change him. My husband came after me and started his “No casual clothes” talk. I replied to him that the most casual outfits are pajamas, and he just took our son in his pajamas outside. How is that logical in light of what he’s been saying all morning long? I truly don’t remember what exactly he said to me after that, all I remember that I was very scared of him for a long time. I made sure that our son was with me every time my husband was around because I knew he won’t really hurt me in front of our son.