The Husband Who Carried A Family Alone

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Growing up, there was a portrait of my parents displayed on our wall. My mom sat in a chair while my dad stood behind her, leaning against it. That image captured not just a moment but also the essence of their marriage; Dad was always the supportive presence behind Mom.

I was raised with the belief that I should also be a supportive partner to my wife, inspired by how my mom excelled in everything she pursued. She would initiate a project, and my dad would step in, providing support until they both succeeded.

They say to "marry your best friend," so I chose Cindy. She was the kind of woman who didn’t shy away from challenges. She had no rigid ideas about gender roles. Often, she would ask, “Do you think this is a good idea?” Before I knew it, she would be out there, fiercely pursuing her goals.

Before we tied the knot, we discussed how many children we wanted. She wanted four, while I preferred two. Jokingly, she would say, “Once you give me your two, you can retire. Then I’ll take charge every night until I get the rest.”

We planned to start a business together, aiming to grow it during our youth so we could enjoy a stress-free life as we aged. We had everything mapped out before we got married.

I don’t recall many details from our wedding day; I was eager to begin life with this amazing woman God had brought into my life. I remember her walking down the aisle, hand in hand with her father. I had always seen her as a friend and partner, but that day, I truly noticed her beauty and felt incredibly lucky. I took her hand from her father, and she playfully tickled my palm as we smiled and walked toward the altar.

From the start, her goal was to have children quickly. We welcomed our first child, a boy, a year after our wedding, followed by a girl a year and a half later. I had my two, so we decided to take a break. Three years later, we had another girl, and then another girl a year after that. That was supposed to be it, but just when we thought we were done, a boy arrived. Five kids! Three girls and two boys.

Life changed…

Raising five kids was no easy task. We both woke up early to get them ready, and I would drop them off at school and pick them up afterward, which meant leaving the office early—something my boss didn’t appreciate. Eventually, I found myself waking up alone at dawn, bathing the kids, preparing their meals, and sending them off to school while she slept in. She would wake up late, get ready, and head to work.

When I first brought it up, she replied, “What a woman can do, a man can do too.” She was right; I wasn’t complaining, just asking for shared responsibilities.

We used to cook together on weekends to stock the fridge for the week, but she stopped joining me in the kitchen. That didn’t bother me; the kids still needed to eat. She wasn’t fond of my cooking, so she often came home either full or picked up food on her way back. I could have done the same, but who would feed the kids?

When the kids asked her for food, she would say, “Go to your dad.” If they needed help with homework, she’d tell them, “Wait for Dad; he’ll help when he gets home.” When the utility bills arrived, she would gather them and place them on my computer where I could see them. Everything seemed to revolve around me.

A few months ago, we had a conversation. I said, “I understand if you don’t want to do much around the house, but please, for the kids’ sake, help them. Get them ready for school, assist with their homework, play with them. They’re not just my kids; they’re OUR kids.” She shot back, “Are the kids complaining to you? Why are you making a fuss? If you think it’s too much, get help.”

Weeks later, I hired a housekeeper. Two days later, she fired her without telling me. One weekend, I returned from a funeral to find the kids sprawled on the floor while she was on her phone. None had bathed. I asked, “Where’s the house help?”

“I let her go this afternoon. She was too lazy.”

“Why are the kids sleeping on the floor? Did you even spray their room?”

“No, I thought they’d wait for you to come home to bathe them. You’re late.”

That night, I lost my temper. I yelled, threw a fit, and nearly hit her. “How could you treat our kids like this? What happened to you? Where’s the woman I married?” I was furious and needed to clear my head, so I left the house. When I returned, she was gone, and the kids were still lying on the carpet.

I didn’t care where she was; I just picked up the kids, tucked them in, and went to bed. She didn’t come back that night or the next. I didn’t call. I went on with my life as if nothing was amiss. She returned three days later, and there were no questions or answers exchanged. This wasn’t the woman I had envisioned marrying. I didn’t expect her to be like my mom; I just wanted her to understand what support truly meant.

We had dreams and plans before reaching this point, but now I’m afraid to dream again. Cindy is no longer the go-getter who made things happen. I find myself watching her come home whenever she pleases and leave at her convenience. A colleague at work asked, “Don’t you think she’s seeing someone else?” I replied, “If she is, I pity that man. He might think he’s found a partner, but he’s believing a lie, and that’s what I feel sorry for.”

My three daughters are growing up and need a strong female role model in their lives someone who can teach them what it means to be a woman and how to thrive in a world that often overlooks them. My sons have me; I can guide them on how to be men, but for the girls… I can’t do that, no matter how hard I try. On weekends, I leave them with their grandmother and bring the boys home, but my wife never questions it.

Recently, she walked past me naked. Her body still looked incredible; you wouldn’t guess she was a mother of five unless you were told. But it didn’t feel the same as it once did. She didn’t seem like mine anymore. That’s when I realized we hadn’t been intimate in a long time. Yes, there are other options, other women, but I still wear my ring. Even though our marriage feels like a failure, we are still bound by our vows. So I’ll wait until this all passes.

—Ken  
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