He Told His Wife She Was Too Boring—But When She Transformed Her Life, She Found Herself Bored of Him Instead

It was nearly two years ago now, though it feels a lifetime past, that I heard words from my husband I shall never forget. He told me, quite plainly: You lead such a predictable life, I find myself bored with you. Despite what Arthur believed, I had been content with our quiet existence. Each morning began early for me, with a simple breakfast, a spot of exercise, and then Id dress for work. My first task was always to help Arthur prepare for his own day, as he left before me, and only then did I ready myself. We cooked every meal at home, and Id pack lunches for us both before heading out. On my way home, Id stop at the grocers, then cook, tidy, and see to the laundry. Wed finish the day with a film and then turn in for the night.

I was convinced there was nothing awry. Everything was as it ought to be: Arthur was cared for and well-fed, the house clean and welcoming, a sense of calm order presiding. What more could one wish for? Saturdays were reserved for a thorough cleaning, baking something tempting and hearty for supper. In the evening, we might entertain a few friends or go out together. Sundays were devoted to visiting our parents; half the day spent with mine, the other with his, helping with little chores, sharing conversation and laughter with our families.

Evenings would see us resting quietly at home. We never argued nor raised our voices. Our home was a haven of peace. And yet One day, Arthur declared he had grown bored of me. He talked for hours, listing his grievances and naming friends who relished a more spirited lifewho pursued merriment and fulfilment with abandon. He insisted our lives lacked excitement. We never even quarrel, he said, as if harmony itself were a fault. That day, he simply walked out the door.

I had been perfectly satisfied with the life we led. Yet, for Arthurs sake, I resolved to change whatever was needed. To begin, I reinvented myselfclearing my wardrobe, spending the money set aside for a cottage on a whole new collection of clothes. I cut my hair short and dyed it a daring colour. I resolved to cast off every suggestion of dullness. Then, I left my steady office job and found work arranging grand celebrations. I discovered, through this new position, a world of unusual entertainments and new faces.

A week later, Arthur returned, astonished by what he found. From that point on, I promised him, our lives would be quite different. And so it was: we hardly spent a night at home, constantly on the move, travelling, building a web of new acquaintances. Every evening found us at a club, a restaurant, a party, or another gathering. We might head out camping, take the bicycles on a lark, paddle down the river, or set off to explore another city for the weekend.

Several months swept by in this lively manner, until Arthur admitted he now longed for quiet, for peacejust to sit in, he said. He confided that he missed my home-cooked meals and the cakes I would bake, but my new life left no spare moments to stand by the stove. I had changed so completely that Arthur lost all desire for my company.

Another week passed before he told me he could not keep up such a busy pace, that he wished to return to those old waysthe quiet evenings, the comfort of home, the regular visits to our parents, and the warmth of fresh, homemade fare, not meals fetched and reheated from some takeaway.

Only, by then, I found I no longer cared for it. I had tried so hard to grow into the careful routine of adult life, but now I had no wish to turn back. This new way suited me well, perhaps even more than the old, but I could not go back. When Arthur asked to return to old comforts, the result was a dreadful row: crockery smashed, neighbours roused and calling the local constable. Arthur packed his things and went to stay with his mother, quite convinced I would quickly fall back into familiar ways. But enough was enough. We are not characters in some tale that can change at anothers whim. When Arthur returns, he will find divorce papers upon the table, and a note to say that I am the one who has quite lost interest nowI simply cannot live with him any longer.