Editors Note: All of the pieces in our Confessions Series are, and will remain, anonymous. This has allowed us to talk about some topics that are a bit uncomfortable, upsetting, or just hard to admit. Thank you for remembering that these confessions are not always easy for the writers to admit, when you are commenting.
I’ve typed out my first sentence ten times and deleted it because, well, it sounds horrible. So I’m just going to come right out and say it: I am judging you. I’m sitting here silently nodding, occasionally muttering some type of neutral comment about the nonsense that you’re spewing, and I’m secretly planning how the discussion will go with my husband later.
“Dear god of all things that are holy, please don’t ever make me hang out with those horrible people again!”
“What happened?”
“Oh. My. Gawd. You are so lucky you were over doing shots with the guys and totally missed out on an in depth discussion of how she wears the pants in the house and he wouldn’t be able to function if it weren’t for her.”
“Haven’t they only been together, what, eight months?”
“I can’t imagine how he made it his first 29 years without her.”
This conversation actually happened a few military balls ago. I had the misfortune of listening to a brand new wife, who’d just discovered she was pregnant, go into a tirade about how her water only managed to get three ice cubes and how it reminded her of the night before when her groom didn’t launch himself from bed at three AM to fetch her fried pickles. Because, dang it, she was having a craving. This, in turn, became a full on assault on her husband’s manhood, his inability to do his own laundry and how he would be an utter failure if it weren’t for her. I am not ashamed to say it, I judged her so hard I’m pretty sure there was a flashing sign above me that read “Judgment in progress.” I was so put off by that conversation that, a few months later I skipped her baby shower and every event she attended in an effort to stay as far away from that wreck as possible.
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