Couple Stories

I’m 31 and I’ve been married for 5 years, and lately I keep hearing from my mom that my husband is a narcissist. I don’t know what to think anymore because sometimes he does things that feel so selfish and cold, but then other times he acts normal and I get confused if maybe I’m just overthinking. For example, he never asks how my day was unless I bring it up first, and even then he just nods or changes the subject back to him. When I got a promotion at work last year, instead of congratulating me he said, “Well, don’t get cocky, it’s not a big deal.” That really stung because I had worked so hard for it. Another time, we were at dinner with friends and I was telling a story, and he cut me off to correct a small detail in front of everyone. It embarrassed me and made me feel like a child. My mom insists this is all classic narcissist behavior, that he always needs to be the center of attention and can’t let me have my moments, but I don’t know if it’s that deep or just him being insensitive. He also gets very defensive if I bring up anything about his attitude, like I’m attacking him, and then somehow it turns into me apologizing even when I was just trying to talk. When we had a fight about money, he said I was “lucky” he even pays most of the bills, even though I contribute a lot too. Sometimes he even makes me feel guilty for needing help around the house, like laundry or dishes, as if asking for equal effort makes me needy. These things pile up and make me wonder if this is who he really is, or if I’m just listening too much to my mom’s voice in my head.

But then again, he isn’t always cruel. He buys me flowers once in a while, he takes me out for dinner on my birthday, and when his family visits he’s polite and attentive, so I keep asking myself if maybe I’m just being too critical. I think what really confuses me is how he can seem so charming to other people, but with me it’s like I get the short end of the stick; is that how narcissists usually are? He’ll brag about my career to his friends but in private tell me I’m not ambitious enough. He’ll post a nice picture of us online but then mock my outfit before we even leave the house. He says I’m too sensitive and need to toughen up, but it feels like he’s dismissing me instead of listening. Sometimes I question myself, like maybe I’m the one with unrealistic expectations. But then when I talk to my mom, she makes it sound black and white: he’s a narcissist, end of story. Still, I don’t want to throw around labels without being sure. I feel trapped between wanting to defend him and wanting to finally admit he might not be good for me. Has anyone else been in this kind of situation? How do you really know if someone is a narcissist or if they’re just flawed in ways that hurt you sometimes? I keep going back and forth in my head, doubting everything, and I wonder if that in itself is part of the problem.

He knows I'm fucking crying and guess what he doesnt care. I feel so stupid for getting attached to him. He just wants a gf just for the sake of having me with him. When he wants to he'll be a good person and attentive and caring but when I need it hes not there. Its better to be alone rather than be with someone who makes you so sad. I'm an idiot for staying with him because he needs me. He says if you leave me I'll be alone. But he wants to pick and choose when to be a good bf. I'm checking out of this relationship. I feel bad for him but fuck I just keep caring less and less.

Would you be upset with your partner giving commentary on their drive to and from work?

Not like "now i passed a blue car, i am going 38mph, now i passed a red car" no, more like for reckless or stupid drivers (unfortunately here are a lot), "that car is so stupid, they went in that lane..." blah blah blah.

My boyfriend is a busy man I get it but when we're on the call together, most of the time he doesnt have much to say to me or he just responds to what I say or ask and most of the times idc. But I have been mentioning a lot more the reckless drivers around me. I've been noticing them a lot more after I got in a car accident and the other car ran a red light and tboned my car(I'm okay and so is the other driver).

But today I get told that he's tired of me giving commentary while driving. The only f-ing reason that I say that stuff is because other than that he he probably wont say anything. And you bet that after today I'm gonna stop and I'm sure our phone calls will be 80% silent. What's the point of calling me then???

I'm just sad and I hate how I got into this whole relationship. I've already been rethinking our relationship and things like this make it worse. I know relationships require work but how much until its just not worth it? I'm just tired of him and everything else. I just wanted a partner who would listen to me respond because you bet I would do that for him. It sucks that even tho he's a good person idk if I want to be in this relationship

sometimes i feel like i'm just drifting away. at 51, you'd think i'd have my life set or at least be comfortable, but no. my husband barely even acknowledges me as if i've become a fixture rather than a partner. i cannot remember the last time he reached out and caressed my hand or looked at me with those eyes that once held warmth. am i no longer worthy of affection, or does aging put a damper on desire? i've never felt so invisible, and it's weighing heavily on my heart. is it normal for passion to fade like this, or am i simply unworthy now?

we used to be so in sync, you know? always close and connected. it's like the rhythm and cadence we shared was just lost over time, fading away into the white noise of daily chores and trivial tasks. there's an ache in my chest from being untouched, untouched by the one person who promised to hold me close forever. it's a cold reality to accept that intimacy has become a thing of the past, a relic of our younger years. was it inevitable, or could i have stoked the flames to keep it alive?

it's easy to feel like maybe it's me. maybe i've let myself go or become complacent, and now i'm just not desirable. i've heard about the inevitable drudgery of marriage; maybe we slipped into that pattern without even realizing it. yet, doubt creeps in and floods my mind. does silence mean he's lost interest or grown tired of what once captivated him? could he ever see me as the woman he fell in love with, or have i become someone else entirely in his eyes?

i often wonder if anyone else out there feels the same, trapped in a silent dance of routine void of passion. am i alone in how i feel, or is this just one of those unspoken realities of aging? depression and longing for those moments to reignite feels like an insurmountable climb, but the hope of rekindling lives on deep inside my heart; maybe, just maybe, there's a way to bridge this emotional gap. would having a heartfelt conversation or finding a common ground bring us back? or, perhaps, this is simply the natural ebb and flow of life. 🤔

Piece by piece I try to keep me and Ed’s relationship together it’s so hard we sometimes fight normally we make up immediately after I’m always the one apologizing first though.. his family issues have gotten so bad that he is having thoughts of wanting to kill himself one time he said he wanted his family to die I told him how that scared me and we got into another argument not really an argument he just cursed at me which he never does but still scared me more lunix told me to gave a breather so I did when I came back he was fine I feel so useless I can’t help him I can’t make him feel happy does he even love me or is he trying to find excuses to live it hurts everytime he talks about it the pain everytime I feel like I tell him to stop he’ll never tell me anything so I deal with it hide the pain hide the shame I want it to End I just wanna jump off a fucking Cliff why is this so hard I just wanna talk to someone but Ed’s best friend said it makes Ed really upset when I talk about one of our fights or issues with someone else what do I do I’m so close to fucking ending myself everyday im losing more and more energy to even get out of bed..

(Lunix my sister Ed my boyfriend)

I feel like everything's in my hands again. According to studies I've done that explain how a girl and I operate, we've formed a group, thanks to previous groups. We collude based on these. Without going into too much scientific detail, I observe that the therapists or anyone around me has the ability to help me express the issue and thus discern details. I have to do everything on my own and through means that said environment includes us.

They come across as extremely obtuse people, based on prejudices. It's clear that when faced with new topics that also require their development, they don't give them any dedication. I don't want to imagine what that girl's environment must be like, or the things she'll say about us, trying to reconcile with it to avoid problems, surely bordering on the fact that this phenomenon that encompasses us is nonexistent or some kind of madness typical of a psychiatric hospital. At least in this situation, I can count on psychotherapists, many of whom dare to be our guide in relationships and, as a result, make us act on them. They, like my circle of friends, and most likely hers, talk about groups based on stereotypes without falling into the abstract realm, simply to fulfill said stereotypes, or profiles. But the fact is that they tend to assume concepts through scenarios associated with them without revising the definition, which could precisely point to other scenarios in which the same definitions apply. This becomes a headache for me because this issue with the girl is something I would like to talk to someone about, consistently and deeply, dedicating the necessary time to it, precisely to be able to discern what it is about between us and be able to act responsibly.

The attitudes people tend to resort to are that, due to their lack of appreciation for the details of the relationship—something that, in fact, only I can do—they simply, going a bit further than therapists, lead me to adopt evasive behaviors, leading to escalating conflicts with this person, and I'm not as fair to them as I am to them. In this sense, it seems that my environment is causing instability in my relationship, rather than guaranteeing its stability. Of course, I observe that they rely on the relationships I have with them to remain where they are, preventing this particular development that I'm experiencing right now. Keeping quiet will only keep this there, and it manifests itself in other ways, and frankly, they prefer to talk about it. I feel completely abandoned by those around me in the midst of these circumstances; I don't know how the girls will experience it, with their surroundings completely absent from the matter. Perhaps they will resort to avoidance, but the idea is not to fall into that same game.

It's exhausting to be alone and under pressure, because the fact that I have to keep quiet about it in my surroundings makes it a burden, a difficulty for me to interact with them thanks to their reactionary nature. It's a self-centered way of thinking; in other words, they're not considering my particular circumstances. All they say is that they can't handle me, and they want to deny it through my time with them and some communications, as is often the case. All under a sad desire to avoid feeling guilty. Furthermore, I feel invisible. How is it possible that no one has stopped to notice my expressions of feeling suffocated? Of not being able to say anything? People will say that the doors are open, but that only underscores this self-centeredness, an evasive approach consisting of only observing those things that favor their status of being okay with me when that's not the case.

The worst part is that all of this, everything I've written, I express to people who are strangers, because for them, it would be impossible, as it would reveal exactly what they don't want to see. This speaks to the fact that they aren't paying attention to my relationship with me in any way. The details they shed light on are ignored; it's like not being in it. I feel like no one has the capacity to support me in this, that they've left me alone and won't do anything to fix it, all because they want to stay in their own life, which they consider good in and of itself and don't have to change it, in their opinion. In fact, no one is interested in being with me through thick and thin, in this environment I've been thrust into.

I don't know how she's taking it; however, I only see difficulties, not for anything else, but for not knowing what to do in an environment that isn't collaborative, beyond perhaps going with the flow. In the midst of it all, I feel like I'm the only one capable of doing something for this relationship, for it to stay afloat, because, unlike many people, I dedicate myself to this, going against the grain of others. For her part, I'm far from such dedication, at least with specialized knowledge, because in her environment, she doesn't need it; she only knows that this is the case It affects her, and I do things that make things work, purely as a result of that dedication. Furthermore, I highly doubt that her environment would encourage her to support that dedication, given the fact that she's deeply embedded in it. For my part, I've managed to isolate myself as much as possible.

It's unpleasant to know that you're the only one who can do something about it and that nothing, absolutely nothing, is in your favor. The environment I'm in doesn't favor an individual modus operandi, but rather one that's simply standard. In fact, in my lifetime, I don't know of an environment that doesn't do this, and that's the one she's in, and it doesn't favor her. Wishing to count on her would be the same as counting on someone who pushes against me to learn; in other words, it would be an added burden. Being at a distance is how she can truly support me, unlike others who aren't and only feel like they're taking time away from my life, because they don't allow me to express myself as I am. I always have to be very measured so as not to trigger prejudices, and they harm me. I feel that's why I'm very reserved, and at the same time, it makes me understand why I tend to be somewhat popular.

I wish I had some kind of magic wand or magic powder, without referring to drugs or anything like that, that would make this whole journey end. It's like feeling a cross on top of me, and with others under social pressure, always supported by my feelings, and being able to reach points where people can take advantage, given that this occupies a busy part of my life. I wish things were easier, even through stories, poems, or some of those texts. I feel able to express myself to her because of the censorship on social media, which also seems completely excessive and without any consideration, constituting simple flaws of the platform. In part, sometimes I wish none of this was happening, or that I had never met her, however, not because of her, but because of the environment that surrounds me. I insist, she's doing well from a distance, since she doesn't carry weight; those who are part of it are very helpful; they can't do anything and therefore keep their distance. I'm talking about being part of it because there's a group among us, and that doesn't just go away.

idk what I have done but he was earlier distanced and reply frequency decreases, yesterday we had conversation which he Waited me for a while and we had break. I asked him to give his final decision in the coming Thursday but I had already accepted it as a breakup.

i frustrated at his gay friend who is not interested in him according to my bf but he call late night because his gay friend was having bad time and made me wait.

I'm pissed and trying to move on but his memory pin me down from where I have started and now I hope he gets back and grow out relationship with me together.

After five years of marriage, at 29, I've hit a wall. I love my husband deeply, and I believe he loves me too, but there's a creeping doubt that's hard to shake off—sexual incompatibility...

It's like an elephant in the room, lurking silently while casting an awkward shadow over our relationship. Our chemistry was undeniable when we first met; we'd tumble into bed, laughter echoing around us. But lately, things have changed. Is it normal for passion to dwindle so dramatically with passage of time? Many couples navigate shifting dynamics over time, but our situation seems different—stuck, stagnant. I can't help but wonder if the spark is gone for good or if it's just buried under life's daily grind. I googled "sexual incompatibility in marriage" and stumbled upon countless forums filled with people sharing their stories—similar yet personal experiences adorned with intimate details and advice. It was both reassuring and worrying. "Sex is not the only important part of a marriage," they say, and sure, true; but intimacy feels foundational, doesn't it? It's that unexplainable bond, and when it's missing, it's like there's a hole in the fabric of our marriage. Now, conversations have shifted from "I want you" to "I care about you," which, while sweet, lacks the fervor it once did. Often, I find myself absorbed in blogs discussing topics like libido mismatch, emotional connection, and attachment styles. The jargon is daunting but sheds light on our predicament—my higher libido struggles against his lower desire; a classic case of desire discrepancy. I've tried discussing this with him but broaching the subject feels like dancing on a tightrope, precarious and tense. Is it too much to ask for mutual attraction in a partnership? Or am I being unrealistic in my expectations? It's hard to dismiss the nagging feeling that perhaps he's no longer sexually attracted to me, even though he insists otherwise.

The emotional side of me wants to believe him, but the factual observations paint a different picture. The intimacy we once shared feels like a memory fading away into the archives of our early days. In an article, I read that long-term relationships naturally evolve into comfortable cohabitation, where physical intimacy isn't the pinnacle of the relationship anymore. But shouldn't there be some semblance of desire still? I’m constantly battling with these cerebral narratives—my mind a restless, questioning space. We’re trying to rediscover that physical connection through couple’s activities, date nights, and the occasional weekend getaway. Still, the rhythmic path from date to full-on making out seems to be missing. Every intimacy expert lists "communication" as the pinnacle of resolving sexual disinterest, yet every attempt at initiating these conversations seems to erect another barrier between us. There’s this gap, sparse as it’s growing but for how long? And on the other side are murmurs of questions and whispers of longing. It’s common to hear about the "seven-year itch," yet, here it’s an early symptom; maybe it's a phase, but how long until it becomes chronic? People change, circumstances evolve, but is this sexual standstill a temporary halt or the new normal? Our marriage wasn't purely based on sex, but I won't deny the substantial role it played in keeping the relationship vibrant and lively.

Do I settle into this newfound normalcy of companionship void of fervor, or do I strive to rekindle the flame we had? That question begets more questions, not answers. I even came across a study emphasizing that many marriages survive and thrive on shared goals, emotional bonds, and friendship. I take solace in these sentiments, yet is surviving the same as thriving? We tick many 'marital compatibility' boxes: shared values, understanding, mutual respect; yet this one unchecked box feels glaringly deficient. Sometimes, I mull over solutions—professional counseling, self-help books, rekindling personal hobbies to divert the mind. Yet, nothing offers a concrete answer, just wisps of temporary relief. Should I accept this compatibility hiccup as part of our "till death do us part" package, or strive tirelessly for change? Every now and then, I drop suggestions of change like seeds, hoping they’ll take root in our reality. Still, the ground feels resistant, the air too dry for them to grow. In this scenario, is patience love's true test, or is proactive effort the remedy? It's a conundrum—two possible paths, but one uncertain outcome. In my quiet moments, I wonder, "Am I the only one who feels this disconnect? Or is it mutual silence extending beyond words?" Should we dive deeper into the exploration of non-sexual intimacy as an alternate course, preserving the essence of our relationship through shared dreams, laughter, and camaraderie? If this is the more conducive path to navigate, how do we begin? Despite the battle within, I know and feel there’s still genuine affection and a craving for a shared future....

I am lost, help me guys...

me and my boyfriend had a situation recently he joined University for studies and being busy with it I m happy for him but he is responding less and less idk if he loosing interest in me.

I was so paranoid that we had fight a day ago he was responding sluggishly in the fight that making me more conscious that he is loosing interest or spark is lost.

idk it's because of long distance or something else he also have few gay friends.

we use to share insta password but after the fight he did logged out n now don't even sees my text although we had chatted in a call but it was done by me n not him..

please help someone to understand am i being paranoid or I'm being reasonable enough to ask my boyfriend for some attention.

So about 3 weeks ago me and my friend and I decided to go to a pool hall well I was already in my pajama pants and a jacket (what I usually wear at night time) the pajama pants are like a extremly plush fuzzy material and the jacket was a super soft fleece I just simply enjoy being comfortable when im at home lol reason im going into detail about what I was wearing is because when we got too the pool hall everything was cool for a couple hours until my friend started talking smack to some guy well the guy pushes my friend and when he did I jumped between them and when I did my pool stick fell out of my hands and was laying on the ground. Well when I stepped between them I just so happened to be standing over the pool stick and 2 guys picked the pool stick up at the same time and racked yanked up hitting me dead in the middle of my balls I remember feeling the stick literally splitting my balls in half I remember looking down and seeing the fuzzy pants and the outline of my balls around the stick and the guy that was behind me rubbed my shoulder and said "you got a nice soft jacket on oh and your pants look soft too" and when he said that he reached down and twisted my dick while the pool stick was still between my legs i remember moaning extremly loud and grunting while he twisted and squeezed also at the same time yanking the pool stick up higher into my balls he finally let go and I dropped too my knees instantly I was extremly sore for about 3 days and my girl friend is extremly sexual and is still asking why I didnt wanna have sex for that week and she loves my pants and jacket i really dont know how too explain this to her

I fucked up, and there is no polite or delicate way to phrase that, so I shall simply admit it outright: I cheated on my boyfriend, the man who has been nothing but loyal, generous, and patient with me for the past two years, the man who has shown me a stability I honestly never believed I deserved. I am twenty-five, he is thirty-two, and somehow we made it work, despite our differences in age, character, and temperament. Our life together is not some pathetic fantasy, it is real, concrete: we share mornings, dinners, moments of silence, the dull routines that, ironically, are the foundations of happiness. And yet, in one miserable night, soaked with alcohol, foolish laughter, and the kind of reckless bravado that makes people believe they are untouchable, I allowed myself to betray him. I was drunk, yes, but that excuse is thin, pathetic, barely a fig leaf for my own conscious decision to let another man touch me, kiss me, fuck me. I woke up the next day with the stench of someone else’s body clinging to mine, with a splitting headache and a gut full of disgust. Have you ever stared at yourself in the mirror and seen not your face but only the lies you will soon have to tell? That was me. My first thought was not even about what I had done, but about how I could possibly pretend it had never happened, and isn’t that the most revolting detail of all? That my instinct was to hide, to bury the truth, to spit on his trust while smiling at him over morning coffee.

Now I am stuck in this vile space between confession and concealment, and neither path seems bearable. To confess would be to throw a grenade into our shared life, to obliterate all the good moments, to shatter his sense of safety, to perhaps lose the one person who has ever truly made me feel like I was worth more than the sum of my reckless impulses. But to hide it? To swallow this filth and act as though nothing occurred? That would mean rotting from within, keeping a secret that gnaws at every embrace, every kiss, every “I love you.” And which is worse? To kill something with blunt force or to poison it slowly? I keep replaying the night, trying to find some crack in the memory where I might have stopped myself, where I might have said no, but instead I only see my drunk, stupid grin and the rush of feeling desired by someone new, someone meaningless. Do you know that absurd thrill, that tiny, stupid surge of ego when a stranger wants you? That was all it took for me to throw away my dignity. And for what? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I gained no satisfaction, no joy, no sense of fulfillment—only guilt that drips like acid through every second I spend with him now. He looks at me with those calm, patient eyes, and I want to scream, to confess, to throw myself at his feet, yet I choke on cowardice. It is ridiculous, but even in my own shame, I feel a twisted sort of hope, as if perhaps this mistake might shock me awake, force me to grow up, to stop treating life like some chaotic experiment. Maybe the very act of ruining something reminds you how precious it actually is.

So what do I do, really? Do I unload this shitstorm into his lap, admit everything, beg for forgiveness, knowing full well he might walk out and never look back? Or do I take this filthy secret to my grave, let it burn me in private, and in return keep the life we built intact? I am not some saint, clearly, but neither do I believe I am a monster, and maybe that’s why I cling to the thought that redemption might still be possible. I cannot decide if honesty here is noble or selfish, because confessing could easily be seen as nothing more than trying to ease my own conscience while dumping the pain onto him. Hiding it could be argued as protecting him from useless suffering, yet is it not arrogant to assume I have the right to make that choice for him? Fuck, it is a twisted dilemma, one that I suspect many would simplify with “just tell him” or “just shut up,” but reality is never that neat. Life is messy, human beings are messy, and love—even the strongest, most mature love—has cracks that appear when you least expect them. Despite everything, I still believe in us, still believe that we can survive my stupidity, though I am uncertain of the method. Maybe this betrayal is not the end but the grotesque wake-up call I needed to finally stop taking him, and myself, for granted. Perhaps the future is not destroyed but simply altered, and maybe, just maybe, there is a chance to rebuild something stronger on the ruins of my failure. Or am I just lying to myself to soften the blow? Would you, in my place, confess and risk it all, or would you stay silent and fight like hell to make every future moment worth the guilt? 🤷‍♂️

hey everyone, i'm feeling all kinds of confused right now and i just want to let it all out 😅 so here goes... i'm 27 and have been dating this amazing guy for about 3 months, everything's been going pretty good, he's really nice and we get along super well. but then we decided to spice things up a bit and had a threesome with my best friend, who happens to be a girl. and now i find myself questioning everything about myself. like, am i actually bisexual? is this just a phase or perhaps something more? 😕 i keep wondering if these feelings are genuine or if they're just intensified because of the newness of the relationship and the experience itself. it's been a real mind trip, honestly.

so i’ve been replaying the whole scenario in my head, like every single detail, trying to figure out what i really felt and why. i realized that during the whole thing, i was just as into her as i was into him, and it was a strange realization to have. it didn't freak me out or anything (thank goodness), but now i'm left unsure about my feelings and it's a bit overwhelming. i mean, i’ve never had any kind of romantic or sexual attraction to women before this, or at least i thought i didn't 😕 but maybe it just took the right circumstances for me to feel this way; like maybe being with someone i trust, my best friend, gave me the freedom to explore these feelings without fear or judgment. idk, i kind of feel guilty about it all too, like i'm betraying my boyfriend or something, even though he's been totally cool with it. the question really is, what does this mean for me? am i just discovering something new about myself or is it a temporary thing? 🤔

i guess the cool thing is, i’m not freaking out about it or anything, more like curious and hopeful about the future. like, maybe it's something that could add an exciting new layer to my life and relationships? who knows! and my best friend and i have been super open with each other about everything, which has helped a lot. we’ve had so many deep convos since, and she's been really understanding and supportive 💕 the whole thing's actually brought us closer, so at least there’s that silver lining. but this leads to another question in my mind, like how will this affect my current relationship with my bf? i mean, i just don’t want to complicate things or hurt anyone involved. maybe it's all up in my head and i'm making it a bigger deal than it is, who knows. anyway, i’m just aiming to sort through these feelings and see where they lead me, no rush, just taking things one day at a time. if anyone's been through something similar, i’d definitely love to hear from you! 🤗 thanks for letting me get this off my chest!

I'm with this girl. I love her, she loves me, no doubt. We're both girls, btw. But sometimes, I feel a little desperate. I do my best to please her. Making the best choices for her, making her happy.

Doing her kinks, notably. I don't force myself, but that's mainly because she likes that and make her happy. But I don't know why, I'm always under the impression that something goes wrong when I want something, want to do something my way. It doesn't work, or doesn't happen. Must be my fault, I guess. And yet... yesterday we did something that should've lead to a big climax for me. That was something like sexting, online. There is some times when I can write her long wall of texts to make her happy. And at this moment, I realized she was doing something else, was playing to something while writing to me, with long pauses between our messages, while I was waiting for her, while I was thinking we were sharing an intimate moment. It made me so sad. She swore to pay more attention to my self-wellness. I'm ashamed to say I don't fully believe it.

There's so many times when I don't feel considerate enough... But i'm certain she loves me as much as I love her, that she does her best, and she has a lot of things to do. It's not always easy to be with me. But... can't help but being sad, not confident. Not self confident. I'm afraid. I don't know what to do. We don't want to leave each other.

Wish you the best everyone, have a nice day, thanks for reading, it helps letting out some steam.

Bye !

For context I’ve been in my relationship for a year now and he’s always said stupid shit when he’s upset but recently he’s been starting arguments and he won’t just TALK TO ME LIKE IM HIS FUCKING GIRLFRIEND, for example last night I got home from my job at a donor lab and when I got here he was here playing Minecraft with my brother, when they were no longer playing and he got up I asked if I could sit in the recliner and he says no, and then he pats his lap like he wants me to sit on it but before I can even comprehend it and consider (which admittedly did take a second I have ADHD and just got off a long day at my understaffed as hell job. Sue me.) he just get out of the chair and says “you’re such a bitch” and when I tell him “don’t call me a bitch” he starts pouting and tells me “just go sit down” when I kept telling him not to call me a bitch because when I told him the first time he just rolled his eyes! By the end of it i just left the room and sat outside till he left. I can’t win with him ever, I can’t even come home from work and relax, god forbid I ask if we can do something I want to do he’ll either complain the whole time we’re playing or he’ll act like we only ever do what I want, which just flat out isn’t true! 9 times out of 10 I’m watching him and my brother do or watch something they want to, and my stuff gets made fun of, because of course! Making fun of my likes and interests and calling them cringe makes me feel SO included!! And I’ve told him to stop with all of this shit and he will for like, a week? And then go right back to it! And then I don’t drag him down to cuddle me within a 5 minute time frame and wait for Him to lay back down and he throws a tantrum over how I don’t love him!

Yesterday night turned into one of the strangest and most unsettling experiences of my life. I’m 41, married for 13 years, and I thought I had a pretty solid grasp of where my marriage stood, but last night really shook me. My wife went out with her girlfriends, which I’ve never had a problem with—she deserves time with her friends just as much as I do. Usually she texts me at least once to say where she is or when she’ll be home. But this time, I lost all contact with her. Her phone went off, no messages, no updates, nothing. For 24 hours I had no idea where she was. I barely slept, checking my phone every ten minutes, even calling some of her friends who gave me vague responses like “she’s fine, don’t worry.” Fine? How am I not supposed to worry when my wife is just gone without explanation? It felt like those long nights back when we were first dating, when she’d sometimes disappear after arguments, except now it’s not just some casual relationship—it’s our life, our home, our marriage. By the time she walked through the door the next evening, I was a mix of relief and boiling anger. I asked where she’d been, and she said she didn’t remember where she slept. Didn’t remember. Who comes home after a night out, missing for 24 hours, and just says that?

I’ll be honest, I lost it. I yelled at her like I haven’t in years. I accused her of cheating, because how else can you explain being unreachable for an entire day, coming home with vague and nonsensical answers? She kept saying things like “I think I crashed at someone’s place” or “we had too much fun, I’m not sure.” That just made me angrier, because I know her memory isn’t usually that bad, and even when she’s drunk she still remembers the basics. She didn’t smell like alcohol, her clothes didn’t seem dirty, and she acted almost too casual about it all. I felt like a fool, standing there with my voice raised, demanding answers, while she just shrugged and gave me half-sentences. After a while, I realized I wasn’t even getting anywhere—I was yelling into a wall. So I stopped. I sat down, let her walk away, and just stared at the table for what felt like forever. It reminded me of when my dad used to disappear for days when I was a kid, always coming back with some excuse, and how much I hated that uncertainty; now here I was reliving that same feeling, only with the person I chose to build my life with.

Now, a few hours later, I’m calm but still completely lost. I keep replaying it in my head, wondering if I overreacted by yelling, or if my reaction was justified. On one hand, I know trust is the backbone of any marriage, and disappearing without explanation for 24 hours is a massive breach of that trust. On the other hand, I can’t prove anything happened, and maybe she really was just careless with her phone and drank too much. But how do I get past the fact that her answers don’t make sense, that she seemed almost rehearsed in being vague? I don’t want to be the jealous, paranoid husband who jumps to conclusions, but I also don’t want to be the naive guy who ignores red flags. I’ve never felt this unsure before. Do I press harder for the truth, or do I let it go and hope it doesn’t happen again? Part of me thinks about counseling, another part thinks about giving her space, and another part thinks maybe I’m already losing her and this is the beginning of the end. Am I overreacting? Or would anyone else in my position feel the same way 😔?