What I did
I used to blame him for everything.
If the car broke, it was because he drove it.
If the dishwasher didn’t work, it was because he touched it.
If something small went wrong in the house;
my mind already had the sentence ready: “See? Typical.”
What happened
Nothing improved.
He didn’t get better.
I didn’t get happier.
The house didn’t get cleaner.
All I got was distance.
Quiet distance.
Resigned distance.
What I noticed
He didn’t fight me.
He didn’t defend himself.
He just… stayed.
Working. Fixing.
Providing. Orbiting me anyway.
And calling me Wife.
Like an anchor,
thrown again and again; while I stood on shore, arms crossed.
What I tried instead
I stopped blaming.
I started placing.
Not him.
Me.
I placed myself where I wanted to be:
Inside peace.
Inside clarity.
Inside love.
My new recipe
- When something breaks → I breathe.
- When I’m tempted to blame → I ask, “Do I want to be right or connected?”
- When he calls me Wife → I hear it like a prayer. A loyalty signal.
Result
He works like before.
He drives like before.
He forgets things like before.
But now I’m not the angry queen of a crumbling kingdom.
I’m the matriarch of a house I’m holding;
because I learned to hold myself.
Final Note
He didn’t change.
But now, I see him.
Because I stepped out of blame, and into placement.