Couple Stories

I can't love someone without feeling totally insignificant, small and useless next to them. I automatically start to distance myself because I feel that this person deserves someone better, they would be better off without me, they don't need me, I'm nothing special and I'm nothing compared to them, I hate feeling this way , I don't want to push away the people I love, I don't want to push away, but I do when I start to feel insignificant next to them, when I start to think that maybe at any moment they will realize that I'm worthless and will leave me, maybe they deserve something much better than me, that anyone is better than me. I want to love someone without feeling less, without feeling that that person will leave me at any moment for the same reason.

Hey everyone, I’m not usually one to air my personal stuff, but I really need some advice here. For the past few months, I’ve had this gut feeling that my wife might be cheating on me, and it's eating me alive. I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but the signs are starting to pile up, and I’m just not sure what to do.

It all started when she began staying late at work more often. At first, I didn’t think much of it—she’s always been dedicated to her job. But then, she became super protective of her phone. She used to leave it lying around, but now she keeps it close and seems to be on it all the time, even at odd hours. And when I casually ask about her day, her answers feel...vague? Like she’s hiding something.

Then there are the little things. She started dressing up more than usual, even just to “run errands” or meet friends. It’s almost like she’s trying to impress someone. I’ve tried to brush it off, telling myself I’m being paranoid, but every time I bring it up, she gets defensive or says I’m just being insecure. It makes me feel like maybe I’m overthinking, but part of me feels like my concerns are valid.

To make things worse, I found a receipt for a fancy dinner that she said was a "work thing," but I know her company usually doesn’t do dinners like that. I keep second-guessing myself, and now I’m stuck in this loop of anxiety. I don’t want to accuse her without solid proof, but I also can’t keep living in this uncertainty.

So here I am, asking for advice. Has anyone else been through this? How do you confront someone you love without it turning into a huge fight? Should I even bring it up again, or am I just being paranoid? Any advice would be appreciated—I feel like I’m losing my mind here.

I'm now 35 weeks into my pregnancy and have been staying at home, waiting for my maternity leave to start. My partner, on the other hand, continues to work and usually gets home around 4:30 PM. By that time, I'm just beginning to prepare dinner, usually ready by about 5:30 to 6 PM.

This routine has been quite standard since I stopped going to work. When he arrives, he often mentions he's hungry because he hasn't had much to eat all day, sometimes only a small snack or nothing at all. I've suggested packing lunches for him, often with leftovers, but he constantly refuses, claiming he isn't much of an eater. Before we lived together, he would generally order something for himself, but now he waits for the dinner I prepare.

However, today was different. He came home and asked if I could have dinner ready by the time he walks in the door, so he doesn't have to wait for me to cook. I explained that it's too early to have dinner fully prepared at that time and that he’s the only one who's really hungry then. We also have a 4-year-old, and serving her dinner so early just doesn't work.

He responded by saying that he discussed it with his colleagues at work, who claimed their spouses always have dinner ready when they arrive home. He expressed how frustrated he was about always having to wait sometimes an hour to eat. I told him it wasn’t my obligation to fix his eating schedule throughout the day and that he would need to rely on snacks because I wasn't planning on cooking dinner any earlier.

This made him quite defensive, and he tried to make me feel as though I was in the wrong. But I genuinely believe I haven't done anything wrong. It’s just not feasible to change the entire household routine to accommodate his unusual eating habits, especially when I’m this far along in my pregnancy and also taking care of our young child.

I can't help but imagine how this conversation would play out if we were on a reality show. Viewers would probably be split, with some sympathizing with his hunger after a long day's work, while others might argue that with a baby on the way and a young child already in the home, it’s unreasonable for him to expect meals to revolve solely around his schedule. Reality show audiences love drama, so this conflict could likely turn into a major plot point with people passionately defending both sides.

My partner, who's 27, has been living alone in his apartment for around two years now. I am 26, and we've been together for about three years. During this time, I've been staying with my parents. Gradually, I started hinting at the possibility of us moving in together. Despite my hints and even outright discussions about possibly sharing a bigger space and splitting the rent - I usually stay at his place up to five days a week - he never seemed to take the bait and would swiftly change the subject.

Recently, things took a different turn. After many conversations and no definitive response from him, I decided to look for my own place. Before I started my search, I casually asked if he would be upset if I found my own apartment, to which he nonchalantly shrugged it off. When I finally found a great apartment, I sent him the link and even mentioned my upcoming tour. It was only after I affirmed my decision to lease the apartment did he suddenly express his desire for us to live together, apologizing for not bringing it up sooner and insisting that we could make room for me at his place. However, by then, I had to give the landlord an immediate response. His sudden change of heart left me feeling both hurt and frustrated due to his lack of communication despite my numerous attempts. In the end, I chose to proceed with my own apartment, and now, we continue to live separately.

It's all rather bewildering. I'm feeling quite perplexed about the whole thing. Did I act unreasonably by choosing to get my own apartment?

Imagine if this whole situation unfolded on a reality show. Viewers would likely be on the edge of their seats, split in their opinions. Some might cheer for my independence and decision to move forward on my own terms after being seemingly ignored. Others might sympathize with my boyfriend, speculating that he might have been dealing with his own reservations or uncertainties about cohabitation, which he communicated too late. The reactions would be varied, with dramatic music swelling as each of us explained our sides to the camera, culminating perhaps in a heartfelt or heated confrontation that raked in record viewership for the show!

How should I feel about getting my own place?

I'm usually knee-deep in work from a job that demands almost everything from me, and my partner, Alex, is fully aware of how strenuous it can be. Not long ago, I decided that it was essential to establish clearer boundaries regarding my availability after work hours. Specifically, I made it a rule not to take work-related calls after 7 pm. Alex seemed to agree with this new arrangement at first, appreciating that we could spend more quality time together without interruptions from my work.

However, last night, things took a bizarre turn. Around 8:30 pm, as we were settling down for the evening, my boss called. Sticking to my new-found boundaries, I chose to ignore the call. But Alex, to my dismay, questioned why I wasn't answering. I explained that it was part of my effort to prevent work from overrunning my personal life. Without hesitating, Alex picked up my phone and answered the call himself, telling my boss that I was "too busy relaxing to talk." I was completely embarrassed! The tone in my boss's voice was clearly one of irritation when I ultimately had to take the phone. I ended up spending the next 30 minutes sorting out work issues, a situation exacerbated by Alex's remark which made it appear as though I was neglecting my duties.

After I hung up, I confronted Alex. I was livid and explained how inappropriate it was for him to intervene in my work matters. He just shrugged it off, suggesting I was overreacting and claiming that I shouldn't feel ashamed for enforcing my boundaries around work. This whole ordeal has left me second-guessing both my boundary-setting and his understanding of it. Am I overreacting, or was his interference out of line?

Imagine if this scenario unfolded on a reality show. The drama would certainly amplify, with cameras capturing every moment of the exchange and potentially millions of viewers judging the dynamics of our relationship. Viewers might side with me for trying to establish work-life balance, or they could sympathize with Alex, perceiving him as supporting a more relaxed approach. The court of public opinion could dramatically sway in either direction, affecting not just perceptions but our relationship dynamics after being exposed to widespread scrutiny.

Was my partner's action on my work call justified?

The birthday celebration I had planned for my wife Jennifer on Friday was supposed to be a joyous occasion. I always strive for her gifts to be a surprise, which can be a challenge since Jennifer tends to open every Amazon package that arrives, sometimes spoiling the surprise if it's her gift. This year, I thought I'd outsmart the situation.

You see, my sister Laura and Jennifer have always had a rocky relationship, primarily due to differing worldviews and values. Their conflicts mostly stem from Laura's past requests for financial help, which doesn't sit well with Jennifer. Though I manage our finances separately, lending money to Laura occasionally from my personal account — never from the joint one Jennifer and I share — and she has always been diligent about repayment.

To avoid any accidental gift reveal this year, I decided to have Jennifer’s birthday present sent to Laura's place. I planned to pick it up the day before the big celebration. However, things went south quickly when Laura texted to confirm the packages had arrived, and Jennifer saw the notification pop up on my phone.

Immediately, Jennifer assumed that I was financially helping Laura again and voiced her frustration, labeling my sister as someone who relies too much on others and never manages her affairs well. This led to a heated argument between us, during which I blurted out that the packages were actually her birthday gifts, which only served to escalate the conflict. In my frustration, I declared that I would return the gifts and cancel her birthday dinner.

The following argument only grew more intense, and I followed through with calling off the plans and had Laura send back the gifts. Jennifer was livid, calling me a jerk, declaring the whole debacle my fault. This has left me questioning whether I mishandled things or if I was right in standing my ground.

Now, imagine if this whole scenario played out on a reality TV show. The cameras capturing every raw emotion and angry word exchanged could have potentially swayed public opinion - either garnering sympathy for my attempt at a thoughtful surprise or painting me as the villain in the drama of a soured relationship with my sister being dragged into the frame. The very essence of our private conflict morphed into entertainment for others could shift perceptions drastically, based solely on editing and presentation.

Did I act correctly in this scenario???

I adore my wife, Emily. She's the epitome of both beauty and brains, teaching high school English and Social Studies with a passion for literature that is nearly unmatched. Her enthusiasm for novels is contagious, often juggling several reads simultaneously.

Nonetheless, Emily's ability to keep up with film plots is, amusingly, non-existent—unless the film revolves around a cliché storyline involving a big-city lawyer going back to her roots only to fall in love with her past. This peculiar quirk of hers has been an amusement in our marriage for as long as I can remember.

Back when we were dating, we decided to watch "The Matrix." Throughout the movie, Emily's bewildering questions challenged my perception of her understanding complex narratives. It was the same with "The Usual Suspects"; despite the plot being laid out clearly, she missed the twist at the end.

Recently, during a double date night with her sister and brother-in-law, her sister proposed we watch "Shutter Island," a film rife with psychological twists. I attempted to sway the group towards a less intricate movie—anything that wouldn't leave Emily puzzled. But the consensus was firm, and as anticipated, Emily struggled with the plot, much to the bemused glances of our guests.

Trying to save the evening, I whispered to Emily that I'd explain later, but this only seemed to frustrate her. After everyone left, she confronted me, feeling cornered into watching only simplistic narratives. Emily argued she wasn't naive, just not particularly focused when it came to films. She even recounted several novel plots to emphasize her point. In response, I reassured her of her intellectual prowess, which far exceeded mine. Yet, she still felt slighted that we didn't watch more engaging films together.

Compromising, we watched "Memento" the next day. Needless to say, she spent the evening piecing together the storyline, even resorting to reading the plot on Wikipedia to keep up.

Is it unfair of me to avoid complex movies for the sake of our shared movie nights?

If our situation unfolded on a reality show, the audience would probably be split. Some might sympathize with Emily's struggle to grasp movie plots, finding the humor in our interactions. Others might criticize me for not challenging her more or for not offering better support during our viewings. Reality TV thrives on such conflicts, often highlighting them for entertainment value.

Did I handle our movie selection poorly?

As my husband's birthday approaches, I find myself at the 38-week mark of my pregnancy. Last week, somewhat hesitantly, I agreed to let his sister collect our daughter from school for a day with her grandparents. Despite my reservations due to their past overstepping of boundaries, I recognize the importance of family bonds and relented.

During a recent visit to pick up our daughter from his parents' place, my husband's sister inquired about his birthday plans. Although I had repeatedly asked him what he desired to do, and even suggested several family-oriented activities, he remained undecided. When his sister proposed making him dinner at her apartment, he eagerly agreed. The dinner would involve both sets of parents, her partner, and our immediate family, which seemed like an ideal arrangement.

However, later, my husband suggested we drive separately because he intended to stay late, socializing, smoking, and drinking. He requested that I leave early with our daughter to put her to sleep. This struck a nerve, as the partnership in our marriage seemed to wane throughout my pregnancy. He had missed almost all my ultrasounds due to voluntary work commitments over weekends and neglected essential preparations for the nursery. Moreover, he hadn't shown any initiative in preparing for the birth, something that would significantly support me.

The sense of solitary burden compounded by his apparent disregard for my condition makes me feel neglected and sidelined. Our birthdays are close, and my due date looms just two days after mine. This means I'll likely spend my birthday heavily pregnant and largely immobile, longing for shared celebrations that seem to matter little to him.

In a flare of frustration, I declared that I would skip the birthday dinner and keep our daughter with me at home, as attending under these circumstances would only distress me further. It often feels as though, despite his self-professed role as a 'family man,' he does not prioritize spending meaningful time with us.

If our lives were part of a reality show, imagine the dynamics and audience reactions to such instances of apparent marital discord and imbalance in family responsibilities. The viewers might side with one or the other, debating on social media and through polls whether my feelings are justified or if perhaps we are both under pressure in different ways due to the impending arrival of our new baby.

Am I wrong here??? How should we improve our communication before the baby arrival?

Around seven years ago, my relationship with my ex, Jenna, sadly came to an end. We share two teenage children, and since I was more financially secure, Jenna proposed I take full custody following our split. I've been raising them full-time since then, with Jenna having the option of visitation. However, she seldom exercised this right. Shortly after we went our separate ways, Jenna moved on with a wealthy man from abroad, quickly becoming pregnant with his child. The man, however, was not interested in taking care of children who were not his own, leading Jenna to relocate three hours away, distancing herself further from our kids. For nearly two years, she vanished from their lives.

The wealth of Jenna’s partner was contingent on his family’s support, and after discovering her situation, they withdrew their financial backing. Complicating matters, their young child faced developmental challenges. Jenna was expecting another child when her boyfriend decided to return to his home country, leaving her alone, pregnant, jobless, and caring for their special needs son.

Last week, Jenna reached out in desperation, her circumstances dire. She and her son were living in a motel, and their financial resources were dwindling. She asked if they could stay at my lake house nearby, or alternatively, if I could provide some financial support. I declined both requests, leading to heated exchanges where she accused me of neglecting my extended "family" despite having the means to assist her. I maintained that, biologically speaking, her current predicaments do not obligate me to intervene.

In a scenario where my life was part of a reality show, the reaction from the audience could be intensely divided. Viewers might sympathize with the tough stance I’ve taken, arguing that my responsibility is primarily towards my own household and the children we share. Others might harshly critique my decision, seeing it as lacking compassion towards my ex who is clearly struggling and my indirect connection to her current children. The intensity of reality show fans could turn this domestic drama into a broader debate on responsibilities and moral obligations ex-partners owe to each other, especially when children are involved.

Now, reflecting on my story as part of an online community seeking advice or shared experiences, I’m curious to get your points of view...

Two years after my divorce from my husband of 26 years, the situation remains complex, especially since we share four children. Our divorce was friendly enough, considering he revealed he was gay and we both agreed to separate amicably. Changing my last name after the split didn't seem necessary; imagining the hassle of updating IDs, legal documents, and bank accounts was too daunting, so I kept his surname for official uses but reverted to my maiden name socially.

Things took an unexpected turn when my ex-husband recently got engaged to a lovely man. I've been nothing but supportive of their union. However, during a recent celebration for my grandson's birthday, my ex—out of the blue—suggested I should consider dropping his last name. His fiancé added to the conversation, expressing his discomfort with me retaining the name, which was quite surprising.

I tried to lighten the mood with a joke about the bureaucratic nightmare it would involve, but they didn’t seem amused. My ex pressed on, suggesting that my clinging to his name hindered them from fully moving on and starting a new chapter. The request seemed odd since this had never been a problem over the past couple of years.

The tension escalated after the party, with my ex insisting that my keeping the last name was problematic for his fiancé, portraying a struggle to begin anew. I argued that our children also bear the same last name, and changing it would make me feel disconnected from them. The most painful part of this ordeal was my youngest son telling me that the fiancé feels threatened by me holding onto the last name, viewing it as if I still harbored some claim over my ex.

My ex even claimed that his fiancé saw my retaining the name as a "power play," which struck me as unfair. I feel torn between maintaining peace and being coerced into relinquishing a part of my identity to appease his partner’s insecurities. Though I’ve agreed to reconsider the situation after their wedding, my ex has labeled me as petty and selfish, escalating the conflict.

The irony is, my friends believe I should maintain my stance, but my children are split, creating further discord. The situation seems absurdly trivial to be causing such unrest. If this dispute were aired on a reality show, I imagine the audience would be polarized but likely sympathetic to the absurdity of being pressured over a name that ties me to my children, not just my past.

Should I cave to maintain harmony, or should I stand firm in my decision to keep the last name until I’m ready to change it, if ever?

Three months ago, our family grew with the arrival of our first child. As expected, adjusting to this new life has been challenging for both my partner and me. Our little one hasn't started sleeping through the night yet, and we're both tackling full-time jobs again. In the past, dividing housework equally has worked well for us, but recently, my husband's efforts have been slipping.

For instance, he was responsible for cleaning the baby bottles one evening, and they were so poorly done that I had to wash them all over again. He accidentally dropped the breast pump parts into the garbage disposal and damaged them. Additionally, he has neglected to properly clean some clothes after our baby's messes, leading to permanent stains. These incidents have been increasing, and it's becoming frustrating.

I've tried discussing this with him gently, acknowledging that fatigue is a factor but stressing the need for care in our responsibilities. His response is always about how exhausted he is from balancing work with home duties. I’m empathetic because I'm also stretched thin from working, pumping, recovering postpartum, and managing our home and child. However, when he failed to refrigerate the breast milk I had pumped and it spoiled, I reached my limit.

He said he'd manage everything that evening so I could get some rest. Grateful, I went to bed only to discover the next morning that the milk had been left out. He apologized, mentioning he sat down to unwind with a TV show and unintentionally fell asleep. That's when I made a unilateral decision to cancel our streaming subscriptions, PlayStation Plus, and theme park passes to afford a housekeeper. My rationale was simple: if he's too tired for basic chores, he's too tired for video games or day trips as well. We still have cable and other leisure activities but I believed hiring help would allow us both to catch up on some much-needed rest.

The backlash from him was severe; he was angry that I made these changes without his input. I thought I was making a helpful decision for us under the circumstances.

If this scenario played out in a reality show, viewers might range from supportive to critical of my decision. Cameras amplifying our household tension and my drastic solution could lead to heated debates among fans on whether my actions were justified or if I should have sought more dialogue before cutting off entertainment as a means to introduce household help.

Am I wrong for hiring a housekeeper without discussing it first?

My wife, Sarah, and I have been happily married for about a year. We generally get along great, but there’s one problem: Sarah can’t cook. At all. Since the beginning of our marriage, I've always been the one taking care of preparing our meals. Initially, I didn't mind because I actually like to cook. However, as time passed, this task began to exhaust me, particularly after long days at work when I’d have to start cooking dinner while Sarah relaxed. Despite my attempts to encourage her to learn, she insists that being unable to cook is not an issue, which has been a recurring source of tension between us.

Recently, the situation came to a head when my mother visited us for dinner. That evening, I was busy in the kitchen, as usual, getting everything ready. Sarah was chatting with my mom in the dining area. At one point, my mom came into the kitchen to help and asked me if she should take care of the gravy or chop some fruit. My wife happened to be by my side then, so my mom handed her a knife and asked her to help with the fruit while she dealt with the gravy. Sarah struggled with the knife and couldn't even cut the fruit properly, making quite a mess. My mom couldn't help but watch this and blurted out, "It’s honestly kind of pathetic that you don’t even know how to cut a piece of fruit at your age." She then showed Sarah how to cut properly, like you would show a kid.

The whole evening, after that incident, I could tell Sarah was upset. Once my mom had left, Sarah confronted me, upset that I hadn’t defended her. She felt embarrassed that I allowed such a scene to unfold. We argued fiercely, and I ended up pointing out that it indeed was embarrassing for someone her age not to know how to handle basic kitchen tasks. She argued that wasn’t the point, insisting that I should have supported her regardless.

The dispute left us both wondering about the state of our relationship. She thinks I am a huge jerk for not defending her... maybe she’s right?

Imagine if our dilemma was a segment on a reality-TV show. The drama certainly fits the bill—tension, family dynamics, a heated dispute. Reality audiences likely would have strong opinions, picking sides, and debating whether my frustration is justified or if Sarah’s indignation over the incident is more warranted. On TV, our kitchen catastrophe could have sparked a wave of viewer reactions and perhaps even led to some kind of audience vote on our behavior. The whole idea makes me wonder how our dispute would play out in the pubic eye of a television drama.

Would the viewers sympathize more with me or with Sarah? Would they think Sarah should take cooking lessons, or argue that I need to be more patient?

This morning was unusually tense with my fiance, Peter. While engaging in my daily routine of brushing my teeth and preparing for the day, Peter decided to sit our little daughter in her high chair to watch her favorite show. Instead of attending to her, he got caught up in watching TikTok videos for what seemed like forever, around 10 to 15 minutes. When I finally finished up and noticed what was happening, I was quite upset to see that he hadn't started making breakfast yet.

His excuse was that he was waiting on me to decide what our daughter should eat, even though he fully knows that she normally has scrambled eggs on daycare mornings—she's one, after all. I immediately called him out on his delay, labeling it a pure excuse. This triggered a wider argument about him not proactively helping out with our daughter or her daily needs in the morning. In a moment of apparent frustration, Peter suggested I should draft him a "list" of tasks he should undertake concerning our daughter’s morning routine. I shot down the idea instantaneously because I feel he should inherently know what needs to be done as a parent. There's no list handed to me; I just assess the situation and manage her necessities like diaper changes, dressing her for the day, handling her teeth brushing, and preparing daycare bottles.

Amidst our heated discussion, I adamantly refused to create such a list. My point being, why should I have to spoon-feed parenting duties to someone who’s equally responsible for them? It's baffling and somewhat disheartening that after so much time, these responsibilities aren’t understood and shared.

Imagine this situation unfolding in a reality show setting—cameras capturing every detail and broadcasting our domestic squabble to an audience. Would the viewers empathize with my frustration or view my refusal to write out a list as uncooperative? Reality TV thrives on drama and complications, so it's interesting to ponder whether such a seemingly mundane yet relatable conflict could strike a chord with viewers or simply amplify the judgment towards either of us?

Am I wrong for not wanting to make a parenting "to-do" list for my fiance?

My partner Claire and I have approached our 12th wedding anniversary with two young children and busy careers. About three months ago, I received a promotion that significantly altered our routine. I transitioned from a Monday to Friday schedule to working 10-hour stretches from Thursday to Sunday. With the change came a considerable raise, and although it shifted our dynamics, we both initially saw the financial gain as beneficial for our family's future.

On my days off, Monday through Wednesday, I handle most household chores, including shopping, errands, and cleaning. I've also taken on more cooking duties, preparing meals and weekly lunches for Claire and the kids. We're saving more money than we have in years, thanks to the raise.

However, issues began cropping up a few weeks into the new schedule. Claire expressed her frustration over having to care for our children alone during the weekends. Her workload doesn't pause; she transitions from her weekday job to full-time parenting, shuttling our kids to various activities—which only intensifies her workload.

We discussed potential remedies such as hiring a babysitter, setting up carpools for the children’s activities, or even having the kids spend weekends with their grandparents. Yet, Claire pointed out that the organization and planning would still fall on her shoulders, exacerbating her sense of never having a personal break.

Trying to find a middle ground, I suggested she might enjoy catching up with friends on Monday or Tuesday evenings, given I was home to care for the kids. Unfortunately, her friends were available mostly over the weekend. This discrepancy led to repeated discussions that escalated to arguments, culminating in Claire’s evident distaste for my new job schedule. She suggested I find a way to revert to my previous hours.

I felt aggrieved, highlighting my efforts to adjust and assist around the house and pointing out the financial benefits we were enjoying. In a moment of frustration, I suggested she could take some vacation time to find solace. This only infuriated her more, concluding with her sending me to sleep in the guest room until I “fixed” the situation.

If our family's scenario was broadcasted on a reality TV show, viewers might be split in their reactions. Some might sympathize with Claire's quest for personal time amidst a hectic schedule, while others might argue that the family’s financial gains and my efforts at home are significant compensations. The dynamic and tension would undoubtedly make for compelling television, sparking discussions about work-life balance and familial responsibilities.

My wife and I have been together for a delightful six years. When we initially became a couple, she was quite slender. Over the years, she's put on a little weight. Now, she has a fuller figure, which I personally find very attractive. To me, her size doesn’t matter; she's the love of my life, and I absolutely adore her.

Earlier this year, an excellent job opportunity arose in my hometown, offering nearly twice my current salary. Considering our goal to pay off our mortgage, I accepted the job. Since my wife manages our home full-time, we spent several months discussing how this change would influence our daily lives. By April, we had a plan established: I would reside with my parents during the week and return to spend the weekends with my wife.

The initial few months of this arrangement were tough, however, I cherished the moments spent with my wife. Unfortunately, it seemed the change was harder on her than anticipated. She began withdrawing socially, stopped wearing makeup, and swapped her form-fitting clothes for looser alternatives. While her change in attire didn’t bother me per se, it was upsetting to see her struggling.

Last month, I decided to take the first week of September off from work to surprise her for her birthday on the 4th. Prior to my return, I went shopping for her gifts, picking out a light pink corset lingerie set with a matching thong from Victoria’s Secret—light pink being her favorite color. I also bought her some jewelry, flowers, and a Ninja blender she had been wanting.

I commenced my drive home on August 31st, excitedly revealing to my wife that I had taken the week off to celebrate her birthday. I teased her about her gifts being in the car, and eventually yielded to her pleas to let her open them early. When she reached the last gift—the lingerie—her initial smile faded. Confused, I asked what was wrong, to which she retorted, “Are you serious? A small? Are you fucking serious?” I explained that it had always been her size, but we could easily exchange it if needed. Her reaction escalated quickly; she began crying, locked herself in our bedroom, and furiously told me not to touch her when I attempted to comfort her. Her accusations flew, asking if she was just an object or a plaything to me, which was never my intention. Hurt and bewildered, she demanded that I leave, claiming I had ruined her birthday.

Looking back, I can only imagine how this would play out if it were part of a reality TV show. Likely, the viewers would split, some sympathizing with my intention to please and surprise her, while others might criticize the choice of gift considering the sensitive nature of women's sizing. Reality TV thrives on such personal dramas, but the real focus should remain on understanding and communication in such situations.