Finding My Voice（5）　　　　　　　　　　　The Path We Walked【4】

In a town with a calm sea, I do not remember which of us suggested having a child. It should have been a major decision, yet no matter how hard I try, I cannot recall it. It was probably his decision, as he never does anything that goes against his own will.

In our daily life, there were several times when my husband expressed his displeasure through a harsh tone or a scornful expression rather than explaining things calmly. The reason I did not hesitate to have a child with such a person was simply that, at the time, his behavior had not yet reached a level that would be clearly recognized as emotional abuse.

At that time, he did not raise his hand against me, shut himself in a room for hours to refuse communication, or criticize my housework.

I had plenty of time on my hands and wanted to keep the house as clean as possible, because I did not want our home to be like my parents' house. My mother was poor at tidying up, and our home was always cluttered. She was a housewife, yet she put chores aside and prioritized what she wanted to do, such as hobbies and socializing. Nevertheless, when she was in a bad mood, she would take it out on me or arbitrarily decide on lessons I had no wish to take. I disliked how she failed to fulfill her own responsibilities while interfering with my life. Out of a sense of rebellion against my mother, I was determined to keep my own house neat and clean.

It took me a while to conceive. I visited a gynecology clinic and learned about the rhythm (calendar/temperature) method, where a woman takes her temperature every morning in bed and records it on a line graph. By tracking it for a month, you can see when the temperature is distinctly high or drops sharply, which indicates when ovulation is occurring. I took my temperature every morning and figured out my ovulation days, yet I still could not conceive easily.

I had wanted a child ever since we got married, and I felt deeply depressed every time my period came. Still, whenever the ovulation window arrived, I asked my husband for his cooperation. Perhaps because he could not tolerate seeing me depressed, his bad moods increased. Looking back now, he never once offered me warm words when I was down. He was always self-centered. It seemed his ideal was a clean house and a smiling wife who made no complaints. Yet even when the house was tidy and I was in a good mood, if he was frustrated by something at work, he would take it out on me.

There is a saying: "Step out the front door and you face seven enemies," meaning that working in society brings various hardships. When my husband accumulated frustrations, he would talk to me about the stress of working outside. I understood that stress, as I had worked before. However, he often insisted that my past jobs were trivial, whereas his own work was far more valuable and burdensome, making the weight of his responsibilities incomparable to mine.

I listened to his words in silence, but I was not convinced. Every job has its hardships. I often wondered why he, an elite graduate of a national university, constantly struggled so much with his work. I suspected that the interpersonal problems he faced were not entirely everyone else's fault.

I knew one of my husband's subordinates, who had once visited our home and whom I treated to a homemade meal. He was very egalitarian with people; he did not change how he spoke to someone simply because of a difference in status. He praised my cooking, showed consideration for me, and talked to me about his own wife. He seemed skilled at choosing topics that suited each person. My husband told me that this man was well-liked at work and performed his duties smoothly, respected by both superiors and subordinates alike.

However, my husband said he did not want to be like him and could not do what he did. He claimed he hated being manipulated by others. My husband was simply incapable of offering warm or encouraging words to people he found difficult, nor could he bring out their potential. Once he obtained managerial authority, while he highly evaluated those he deemed competent, he showed no mercy in lowering the performance ratings of those he judged incompetent, often transferring them to remote areas.

My husband treated me with that same mercilessness. From around the time we were trying to have a child, he frequently hinted at divorce. Whenever something displeased him, he would threaten to divorce me. Every time he did, I clung to him.

If I had not felt that divorce was shameful, or if I had possessed the confidence to live independently, I would have decided to leave him. At the time, I did not want to return to my parents' home, feeling I had finally escaped my mother's control through marriage. Yet I was so dependent on my married life that the thought of living alone never even crossed my mind. If I had continued working back then, saved up some savings, known what it was like to live on my own, or had someone who believed in my abilities and offered me warm, encouraging words, my life would have turned out differently. At that time, I was completely unaware of how important it is to maintain a connection to society even after marriage.

Next Story:Finding My Voice（6）　　　　　　　　　　　The Path We Walked【5】｜Cristal

First Story: Finding My Voice（１）　　　　　　　Introduction｜Cristal

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