“I never imagined working from home would turn me into Ruby’s full-time servant,” I muttered, scrubbing dishes while answering emails.
When we got married, everything felt equally shared. But with the twins and her job, things changed. Ruby gave birth to our boys three years ago and returned to work after two months. With her demanding job, I took on childcare since I had the flexibility to work from home.
At first, I thought, “I can handle this. It’s temporary.” But it quickly became overwhelming. I wasn’t just watching the kids; I was feeding them, changing diapers, and cleaning up messes. Ruby would come home exhausted, drop her bag by the door, and collapse on the couch.
A woman lounging on the couch at home | Source: Pexels
“I’m beat,” she’d sigh. “Can you handle dinner?”
“Sure,” I’d say, juggling the boys while cooking. It wasn’t ideal, but I felt it was necessary. However, as time passed, I realized Ruby expected me to manage everything at home. I wasn’t just a father; I was the cook, cleaner, and errand runner.
“Can you pick up my dry cleaning?” she’d ask as she rushed out the door. Even when the boys started kindergarten, Ruby still saw me as responsible for everything at home, disregarding my full-time job.
One night, I finally brought it up. “Ruby, we need to divide the chores better. I can’t do everything by myself.”
She frowned. “But you’re home all day. You have time for these things.”
Frustrated, I replied, “I’m working too. I need help.”
Ruby sighed, clearly overwhelmed. “I’m exhausted when I get home. Can’t you just manage for now?”
I didn’t argue but felt increasingly worn down. I missed my friends and hadn’t gone out in months. My life was shrinking, and Ruby didn’t seem to notice.
A black and white shot of a sad man | Source: Pexels
The breaking point came when my mom dropped by unexpectedly with lasagna. Finding me cooking, folding laundry, and working, she looked shocked.
“What on earth are you doing?” she asked.
“Just the usual,” I replied.
Mom frowned. “This isn’t right. You’re working too. You shouldn’t be doing everything.”
Feeling a lump in my throat, I admitted, “I haven’t seen my friends in months. I’m exhausted.”
Mom’s expression hardened. “This has gone too far. I know what to do.”
The next day, Ruby called me, furious. “Your mother said I’m on my own with the kids. She’s taking you to a spa for the weekend!”
I froze. “Wait, she what?”
“Yes! I don’t have time for this, and now I’m left with everything!”
I could sense panic in her voice. Just then, my mom’s voice cut in.
“Ruby, you’ve taken advantage of him for too long. He works full-time, just like you. This ends now.”
Ruby stammered, “But… I didn’t realize…”
Mom replied firmly, “Now you will. Have fun with the kids, Ruby.”
After the call, I felt relief. For the first time in years, I felt seen. The spa weekend was everything I needed. For the first time in ages, I wasn’t thinking about chores or the kids—I was just me.
When I returned home, Ruby looked overwhelmed and apologetic. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize how much you handled until I did it myself.”
I hugged her, relieved. “We need to do this together. I can’t keep doing everything.”
She nodded, saying, “I’ve spoken to my boss about reducing my hours. I need to be more present here.”
Her words filled me with hope. Over the next few weeks, Ruby followed through, cutting back her hours and pitching in more at home. It wasn’t perfect, but we felt like a team again.
Now, I feel stronger in my marriage and in myself. I learned it’s okay to ask for help and demand balance and respect. For the first time in years, we’re on the same page.
