З життя
Голод за графіком: чому я тікаю з дому свекрухи
Голод за розкладом: чому я втікаю від життя у домі свекрухи
Ніколи не думала, що моє життя перетвориться на суворий військовий табір, де кожен крок під контролем, а будь-яке відхилення від «режиму» карається… голодом. Саме так я себе почуваю зараз — ніби на закритому об’єкті без права вибору та найменшого слова. А все через те, що ми з чоловіком тимчасово живимо в його матері.
Здавалося б, нічого страшного — звичайна історія для молодих пар, які мріють заробити на своє житло. Ми з Олегом справді хотіли швидше стати на ноги, взяти іпотеку, розплатитися і переїхати у власне затишне гніздечко. Поки йшла підготовка, свекруха жила у сестри чоловіка, допомагала з немовлям, а нам залишила свою трикімнатну. Тоді я ще не здогадувалася, який «сюрприз» нас чекає, коли вона вирішить повернутися.
Життя без неї було спокійним. Я підтримувала ідеальний порядок, старалася, щоб свекруха, повернувшись, не знайшла приводу причепитися. Усе блищало до скрипу, каструлі перемиті до дзеркального блиску, у шафах — ідеальна симетрія. Але, як виявилося, їй було байдуже на чистоту. Головне — розклад. Сніданок о 7:30 без запізнювань. Вечеря — до восьмої години вечора. Проґавив — сам винен. Їжі не дістанеш.
Я працюю дизайнеркою, і бувають ночі, коли не лягаю до світанку — термінові проекти, правки, дедлайни. Інше керівництво дозволяє прийти пізніше. Але ось біда — якщо я з’являюся на кухні після десяти ранку, холодильник перед моїм носом із тріском зачиняється. Свекруха вважає: «проспала сніданок» — значить, їжі вже не буде. Навіть якщо страва приготована мною! Навіть якщо це мій власний йогурт чи бутерброд.
З вечерею та сама історія. Ми з чоловіком приходимо додому пізно, але їсти без нього мені не дозволено. А він, якщо повертається після восьмої, може йти спати голодним. Чому? Тому що «не по розкладу». Коли я намагалася пояснити, що дорослі люди їдять, коли їм зручно, почула у відповідь: «У моєму домі буде так, як я сказала». А, так, трохи не забула — за комунальні послуги ми теж платимо, але кого це хвилює?
А ванна? О, це окрема історія. Я звикла розслаблятися в теплій воді після важкого дня. Але й тут свої закони: купатися вдень — не можна. «Вода дорога, лічильник крутиться», «вдень треба справами займатися, а не ванни приймати». Якщо я зачиняюся у ванній — свекруха може постукати, а може й спробувати відкрити двері. Так, саме так. Іноді це доходить до абсурду.
Вихідні перетворилися на справжню каторгу. Проспати до десяти? Усе, сніданок скасовано, день зіпсовано. «Молодь пішла лінива, сплять до обіду!» — бурчить вона на кухні, демонстративно клацаючи дверцятами. Я більше не відпочиваю — я виживаю.
Чоловік, бідолаха, звик до цього ще з дитинства. Він не вважає це дикістю, для нього це «просто мама така». А я — не вважаю. Я не збираюся підлаштовуватися під людину, яка у власному домі не дозволяє мені з’їсти ложку каші, тому що «час вийшов».
Я не хочу більше прокидатися за розкладом і почуватися школяркою, якій за запізнення відмовляють у супі. Я не хочу просити дозволу на теплу ванну чи звітувати, чому не з’їла кашу о 7:30. Я доросла жінка. Я плачу за себе. Я працюю. Я людина, зрештою.
Я поставила чоловіку ультиматум: або ми повертаємось до своєї квартири, або я йду. Я не ворог його матері, але й не рабиня її порядків. Я хочу жити, а не існувати за таймером.
Іноді треба втратити комфорт, щоб знайти свободу. Я готова. Бо моє життя — не таблиця в Excel і не військовий статут. Я хочу бути щасливою, а не «вчасно поївшою».
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