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Saturday, March 2, 2024


As I sit down to reflect on my life, I find myself engulfed in a whirlwind of emotions and responsibilities that seem to never cease. My name is not important; what matters is the weight of my struggles and the silent battles I fight every single day. I am a mother, a wife, but most importantly, I am a woman torn between societal expectations and the harsh realities of life.


My journey as a mother began two years and seven months ago when my son, Kai, came into this world. His arrival filled my heart with indescribable joy and purpose, but little did I know the challenges that awaited me. You see, it’s not that I don’t care for my child or neglect his upbringing; it’s the incessant demands of reality that weigh heavily on my shoulders.

My husband, a man I once believed would be my rock, has become a source of constant financial strain. His relentless pursuit of money leaves me feeling like a mere afterthought in his life. Whenever I express concerns about our son’s development or behavior, I am met with blame and criticism from his family, particularly my father-in-law, who sees fit to chastise me for my perceived failings as a mother.

I yearn to take charge of my son’s upbringing, to instill in him the values and principles that I hold dear. But my efforts are constantly undermined by those around me who prioritize money above all else. They tell me that financial stability is paramount, that I am failing as a daughter, a wife, and a mother for daring to question this belief.

My temper flares, and my words are sharp, devoid of the gentle tones I once used. But who listens? Who truly hears the cries of a mother drowning in her own despair? Instead of support and understanding, all I receive is condemnation and judgment.


I am exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The concept of rest is but a distant memory as I navigate the relentless cycle of work and familial responsibilities. The notion of “three years of maternity leave, three years of rest” seems like a cruel joke, a luxury I can ill afford.

And where is my husband in all of this? Is he not meant to be my partner in this journey called life? Yet, he sleeps soundly, oblivious to the turmoil that rages within me. He escapes to his own world, leaving me to bear the burden of our existence alone.

I am labeled as hysterical when I discipline my child, accused of being neurotic and unfit to be a mother. But what choice do I have when my pleas for help fall on deaf ears? I am trapped in a life that suffocates me, where every action is scrutinized and every word twisted against me.

I refuse to succumb to bitterness and resentment. I refuse to let this life crush my spirit and extinguish the flicker of hope that still burns within me. I may not have the luxury of resigning from my responsibilities, but I will not surrender to despair.

I deserve happiness, just like any other woman. I deserve the freedom to enjoy the simple pleasures of life without being shackled by financial obligations. If my husband can live as though he is single, then so can I. I will carve out my own path to happiness, one that does not revolve around the whims of a man who values money above all else.


I will continue to work, not out of obligation, but out of a desire to reclaim my independence and assert my worth. My son will be cared for, loved, and nurtured, not by me alone, but by the village that surrounds him.

I demand my right to financial autonomy, to receive my fair share of the fruits of our labor. Five hundred dollars for personal expenses is not too much to ask for, nor is it unreasonable to expect my husband to shoulder the financial responsibilities of our family.

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