It was spring break – I explained to my husband that for year (8+) I had exerted all the emotional energy planning, booking, executing the family vacations. I needed some help. He played it off like it was no big deal, and really, I had wanted to do it, so he never stepped on my toes. He planned a vacation for us to drive to the Redwoods, to make up for the 8+ years of me vacation planning.
He booked the VRBO, near the Redwoods Museum, and closest to a couple of park entrances. He knew it was 1 hour from any restaurant, or grocery store. He made a point of telling me this, but never asked if I planned on cooking at the house.
We get to the last grocery store after several hours of traveling in the car, he drove, because he prefers to. I picked a few things (snacks, breakfast items for the kids), and he didn’t choose anything for himself. I asked what our plans were for dinner. He replied with “I though you were cooking”. I explained, a bit flabbergasted, that he never asked if I would cook on our vacation, and I had no idea what the VRBO was equipped with, as he booked it. I tell everyone we are getting microwave meals for tonight, so we go through the frozen isle, and I pick a few day’s worth items for the children and myself. I ask him to get things for himself that he will like. He chooses to buy 1 item, for tonight, rather than a 3-days supply, as we are there for 3 total days.
We get to the VRBO and it stated three bedroom in the ad, but the 3rd bedroom is really only a curtain off the living room, in an alcove of windows a door. The home has a central heat pump, that is dicey, and the signs state we have to keep the doors open, as the circulation system doesn’t properly heat the home with the doors closed. Our little one is a loud sleeper, so keeping the doors open is a big issue with everyone getting a restful nights’ sleep.
I try to get the heat pump going, and after several attempts, it seems to be working. My husband tries heating the oven for his dish (the kids and I have microwave meals), and the oven takes 45 min to pre-heat, as it is very slow (and has a sign stating it is slow to heat). We all go to bed a little later than expected, a little hungrier than expected.
We head out to breakfast in the morning. By the time we reach, we are all starving!! It’s a darling spot with cool decor and a gift shop. In an effort to keep the kids occupied, I send them to check out the gift shop. Once we finally order the waitress explains the kitchen is backed up. They start to bring things out one at a time, rather than all at once. The teen is served first, which sets off the 6 year old. I start talking about politeness in the hopes of leading into the direction to have the teen offer the 6 year old a bite, but my husband cuts me off – he says we are not a family that honors politeness over hunger – directs the teen to eat and tells me we are not raising the children that way. He doesn’t know what I was going to say – which pisses me the fuck off. I try to talk with him, while being polite, and he is dismissive. Meanwhile the 6 year old is in meltdown stage 6; she’s hungry.
Her food arrives and I ask her if she’s like for me to cut it, or if she prefers to. She whines and cries and says she wants it to be precut, she doesn’t want either of us to cut it. She is losing her shit, I let her know kindly that she can make a decision or I will make the decision for her. As her wines get louder, it interrupts my husband from enjoying his food. He directs me to allow her to cut it “Let her cut it, stop arguing with a 6 year old”. Clearly, he’s not even listening to the conversation, because that is not what she wants. He does this often, asserts control, not knowing the situation, and it triggers me. I give him a mad face and shout NO a little loud for the overly close tables in the restaurant, a moment of silence follows, by the next 8 hours of my husband pouting.
He withdraws from me, he won’t engage with the children, he’s sad, and pouting. He won’t smile in any of the photos in the Redwoods, he trails behind the children and I and he won’t hike with us, or talk with us. It’s pure misery for the hike, the ride home, the first few hours in the VRBO, then I tell him it’s enough, we need to talk. He directs the teen to take care of the 6 year old (like she needs the direction), and he slams the thin-walled bedroom door closed and yells, he tell me I always get what I want, I’m self-sabotaging. I’ve sabotaged this vacation for the whole family by claiming he planned it, when really I planned it.
He tells me I’m responsible for him throwing away his 15+ year career (I was the sole reason he quit his job & went back to school), he said I was wrong to not to want to be a stay at home mom, there was something wrong me because I was ok with our shared daughter attending before & after school daycare service. I should want to spend more time with her and work less. Mind you, I work 37.5 hours per week, drop her off to before school care 30 min prior to start of school because my husband slept in everyday till 8am (15 min after the start of her school day). Also, he NEVER picked her up from afterschool care, even though we lived 3 blocks from the school, and his afternoons were open. It was ALWAYS my responsibility to leave work early (4:45) and pick her up on my way home, then cook dinner, each night after working, while he stayed home, and maybe read a chapter of his school book during the day.
He goes on to accuse me of every insecurity he has, presently. Me, being a good person, am dumbfounded. I never told him I wanted to be a stay at home mom, I told him that work gave me a satisfaction that I would never want to trade for being a stay at home mom. He chose to apply for school, he chose to separate from work, he asked my opinion and I was supportive, but I was not the driving force in the decision, I offered input only. I realized that perhaps he was a bit delusional, at that very moment. He accused me of holding back, not being emotionally connected with him, stonewalling him when we had serious conversations, and being withdrawn (all of the things he was, to me).
Again, I was dumbfounded. I had heard, in my lifetime, of gaslighting, but it was SO hard to recognize when I was in it. He was actively blaming me for how he felt about the choices he made in life. He was dissatisfied, and chose to shame/blame me for how he felt, rather than confronting it. He was incredibly cowardice in this moment, and I was so confused, it took me a long time to figure that out.
He said that we need to stick together for the children, I told him we needed professional help. He said absolutely not, and not to ask again. There was nothing wrong with our marriage. Meanwhile the teen chose to put her only set of headphones on the 6 year olds ears with the music blasting, and smiling, and entertaining her, so she didn’t have to hear Dad yelling at Mom, shaming and blaming her; while the teen had to listen to it herself. I feel so responsible, and so bad for what she went through listening to those hateful words. I told my husband “admit it, you don’t love me, the person, you love being married and having a wife that does everything for you”. I was right. I was right. I was right. And it hurt, so bad. In that moment, I pegged the nail on the head. I was right….he just wanted bragging rights to having an accomplished, talented spouse, one that took care of everything…..grocery shopping, meal planning, meal prep, getting the kids ready in the morning, doing drop off / pick up, arranging play dates, organizing vacations, handling family obligations, coordinating birthday parties, doctor visits, clothes shopping, vacation planning, home repairs / maintenance, dog training, vet / grooming visits, paying bills (except the mortgage payment – I was NEVER allowed to make a mortgage payment – he took pride & ownership in that responsibility. I paid for everything else – which equated to approx 60%-65% of our household expenses.
Lesson learned: I made 4% less than he in the 10 years we were together and I paid for a majority of our shared expenses and in the end my bank accounts had less than his. In the later 3 years of our time together I made 10-20% more than he did.
I walked away from our marital home at a 33.33% to me; 66.67% split to him; because all “expenses” are not equity, and all the caretaking I did in our marriage was my choice, and I liked it, so he owes me NOTHING for it.
Fuck him. I make my own money. I can make more. My time, my sanity is worth more than his ill conceived accounting ideas, and any entitlements he feels.
So, at the end of the argument, I followed my vows to him (compromise), I played nice, I apologized, he did not. Then we had a super pleasant rest of our vacation. We ended it a day early. Went back to our lives and he didn’t bring it up again, until he was yelling, loudly, at me while I was driving down the highway, with our 6 year old in the back seat.