This all started a few months ago at a dinner party. My husband, Ben, and I were chatting with friends when, out of the blue, he proposed homeschooling our daughter, Lily.

“It’s the system,” Ben said passionately, leaning in as if he’d uncovered a profound truth. “It’s too rigid, too focused on tests. Kids need the freedom to explore their creativity. I don’t want Lily’s imagination boxed in.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and I was taken aback by his fervor. Just months prior, he had been all for enrolling Lily in private school.

“Think about it, love,” he continued, glancing at me. “No strict schedules, no standardized tests. She could learn at her own pace.” Though I felt hesitant, I found myself swept up in his vision.

After that night, Ben kept bringing it up. “Lily would be happier not stuck in a classroom all day,” he’d say. Eventually, I started to believe he might be right.

Before I knew it, we pulled Lily from school and embarked on our homeschooling journey. Ben took charge completely, often showing me the projects they worked on when I got home. “Look at this solar system model she made!” he beamed.

But one day, I came home early, excited to surprise Lily with new watercolor paints. Instead, I heard her crying. “But Dad, I miss my friends!” she sobbed. “They probably think I don’t like them anymore!”

I crept closer to the dining room, now their classroom, and heard Ben’s soothing voice. “We can send them little gifts, okay? They won’t be mad at you.”

Gifts? What was going on? “Like when you let me come with you when Mommy had to work?” Lily asked, her tone lifting.

I froze, my mind racing. Ben wasn’t homeschooling out of some grand educational philosophy. Instead, my husband was delivering packages. What had really been happening under my roof?

“Get your answers, Mia,” I muttered as I walked in. Ben’s face turned pale. “Care to explain what on earth Lily is talking about?”

His long breath revealed the weight of a hidden truth. “I… I lost my job months ago. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

My heart sank. “You lost your job? Then what have you been doing all day?”

“The homeschooling was just a cover. We couldn’t afford tuition anymore. I’ve been delivering packages to get by. I didn’t want you to think I was a failure.”

I struggled to process it all. I wanted to shout, but mostly, I felt sad. Sad that he thought he had to carry this burden alone.

“Ben, you didn’t have to do this alone,” I said softly, reaching out to him.

The next week, we enrolled Lily back in school. Her joy at seeing her friends was palpable, and I could see Ben’s guilt begin to lift as he watched her run toward them.

He found a new job as a grocery store manager. It wasn’t his dream job, but it provided stability, and our home felt lighter, as if we were moving forward together.

What would you have done?