My husband, Ethan, walked into our living room that Sunday afternoon with an air of determination. His expression was rehearsed, and I knew something was off. When he finally spoke, his words left me stunned.
“My mother and I have decided that you should quit your job,” he said, as if it was a foregone conclusion.
I thought he was joking, but his serious face told me otherwise. They wanted me to be their personal housekeeper, and my career didn’t matter to them. I had been married to Ethan for two years, and life was generally good. We had a nice home and stable careers, but his mother, Diane, was a different story.
Diane had opinions on everything, from cooking to clothing, and Ethan listened to her like she was an expert. I had learned to manage her influence, but this time, she had gone too far. When Ethan told me to quit my job, I was furious. He claimed it was because I was stressed and my job took up too much time, but Diane’s words revealed the real reason: they thought a woman’s value lies in her family, not her career.
They even accused me of cheating on Ethan because I worked late and traveled. I was appalled. When Diane walked in, nodding in agreement, I realized they were dead serious. They thought they were right, and I was expected to conform.
But I had a plan. I pretended to agree, quit my job, and cut off my financial support. At first, they didn’t notice, but soon, reality hit. Diane’s spa appointments were canceled, and expensive groceries were replaced with cheaper alternatives. Ethan’s monthly wardrobe upgrades stopped, and weekend getaways were no longer possible.
As the inconveniences piled up, I watched with amusement. When Ethan sat at the dining table, staring at his bank statement, I smiled sweetly. “I was the breadwinner,” I said. “Now, we all have to make sacrifices.”
A month later, I told them I was going back to work. Ethan’s relief was palpable, but before he could say anything, I added, “I’ll also be filing for divorce.” Silence followed, and their world collapsed.
The divorce was finalized, and I finally had my house to myself. Ethan tried to apologize, but I was done. The accusation of cheating was the final straw. I realized I deserved better than a life controlled by Ethan and his mother.
What would you have done in my place?
