My Husband Always Told Me I Wasn’t Feminine Enough—At First, He’d Just Mention It Casually: “If You …

My husband always used to say that I wasnt quite feminine enough. At first, hed make the odd comment in passing that perhaps I should wear a bit more make-up, put on dresses, be a touch softer. But that was never who I was. Ive always been practical, straightforward, never terribly concerned with vanity. I work, I solve problems, I get on with what needs to be done. He knew that about me. I never pretended to be someone else.

As time went on, those comments became more frequent. Hed compare me to women we saw online, or to the wives of his friends, or to his colleagues. Hed say I seemed more like a mate than a wife. Id listen, sometimes wed have a spat about it and then carry on. I never thought it was anything serious; I took it as normal differences within a marriage.

The day I buried my father, though, all of that stopped seeming trivial. I was in shockcouldnt sleep, couldnt eat, every thought was fixed on how Id make it through the funeral. I put on the first black clothes I found, no makeup, barely ran a brush through my hair. I simply didnt have the strength for anything else.

Right before we left the house, my husband looked at me and remarked,
Are you really going like that? Couldnt you at least tidy yourself up a bit?

At first I didnt even understand. I told him I didnt care how I lookedId just lost my father, after all. He replied,
Yes, but people will talk. You look awfully neglected.

Right then, it felt like something heavy crushed my chest from inside.

At the wake, he was with the other mourners. Shaking hands, offering condolences, keeping a suitably sombre face. But with me, he kept his distance. He hardly embraced me. He didnt ask how I was. At one point, as we passed a mirror in the sitting room, he murmured that I ought to pull myself together a bit more, that my father wouldn’t have wanted to see me in such a state.

Once we were back home after the funeral, I asked him if that really was all hed noticed that day. Did he not see that I was falling apart? He told me not to exaggerate, that he was simply voicing his opinion, that a woman shouldnt let herself go, even in moments like that.

Ever since, Ive looked at him in a different light.

But I cant leave him.

I feel as though I cant live without him.