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On holding my house

I place myself. I place him. The house changes when I do.

Published by Lai Yin in What women already know Share


What I did

I blamed him for everything.
If the car failed, it was his fault.
If the dishwasher refused to work, he had touched it.
My mind already finished the sentence: “See? Typical.”

What happened

Nothing got better.
He did not change.
The house stayed the same.
All I got was distance.
Quiet distance.
Resigned distance.

What I noticed

He did not fight me.
He stayed.
He fixed things.
He worked.
He called me Wife.
The title landed like an anchor even when I stood on shore with my arms crossed.
He stayed in orbit.

What I tried instead

I stopped blaming.
I placed myself.
I moved into peace. Clarity. Love.

My new recipe

When something breaks I breathe.
When I want to be right I ask, Do I want to be right or connected?

When he says Wife,
I hear it as my status,
his loyalty,
his obedience.

Result

He behaves the same.
He forgets things the same.

I do not become the angry queen of a crumbling kingdom.
I become the matriarch of a house I hold.
because I hold myself.
My husband returns.

Final note

He does not change.
My occurring shifts.
I step out of blame and into placement.

Notes from Lai Yin

Most weeks I publish a new essay.

Sometimes it is about food.
Sometimes it is about daughters.
Sometimes it is about marriage, travel, sex, grief, aging, dogs, airports, or finding home in a new country.

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