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A memory came back to me when I was ironing today. At first it gave me shivers up my spine but then as I remembered my rebellion, had me giggling at just how ridiculous it was/he was.
Not long after we got married my ex told me how he wanted his shirts ironing, how he wanted them buttoning on the hanger, how the sleeves had to be placed in a specific way, and how they all had to face the same way in the wardrobe so he could reach in, undo a button and slip the shirt off the hanger. I wasn’t exactly a fresh faced young wife and had been ironing my dad’s shirts from age 10 or so, as well as my own clothes for donkeys years, so wasn’t prepared to relearn a skill, but I did kind of see the logic in the way he wanted them hung, and he seemed pretty serious when he told me. Slowly but surely though, as time went on, as he got more difficult, more controlling, more abusive, I stopped doing the exact button up that he wanted, sometimes I even did all the buttons up (which really p’d him off!!) and I hung the shirts up wonky, or shoved them in the wardrobe so they came out creased. And I often “forgot” to do the ironing, or had to make dinner or sort our daughter out before I got to his shirts in the ironing pile.
He was such a control freak. All those little things he insisted on added up in the end and the penny dropped.
Funny thing was he never ever followed his own ironing rules. -
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Goodness who do they think they are? Loved reading your story 😄 I can just imagine the unfolded shirts in the closet, what a sense of freedom that must have felt to do that yes!
Mine criticised the way I eat. I knew this was him trying to pick a fight because I always – since childhood – received compliments on how neatly and elegantly I am able to eat.
So now my little sense of freedom is to get crumbs on the table on purpose after finishing eating neatly, just because I can 😄 -
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Ooh KIP yes! The rebellion of not feeding the monster!!!
I remember one Sunday we’d been invited to dinner at a relatives house. He didn’t want to go, so I upped and went with our daughter. Didn’t explain to them he wasn’t coming. I got a text from him asking where his dinner was. The relative saw it, phoned him and told him it was on the table and where was he. Gosh was he mad when we got home. Really scared me that night but he couldn’t do anything as it wasn’t just us involved, the relative knew too. -
Oh, the petty controls and nit-picking! The endless niggling comments. The food police regime.
But, as I would often say – and still need to sometimes – “If that’s really the only thing you can find fault with, I must actually be pretty much prefect!”
Recently, I walked near a young couple at an airport where we were all moving down a long corridor towards passport control or baggage reclaim, I can’t recall exactly (blame jetlag). He was literally finding fault with the sound of her feet on the hard floor. She wasn’t walking ‘right’ for him!
I had to restrain myself from asking her whether she needed his instructions and approval to breathe. Perhaps I should have done.
Flower x
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Ah ladies! Brilliant stuff! Might seem like little things but to us they’re massive! Mine had many of these but me opening the curtains was a massive one, he wanted then left closed till lunchtime (as that’s when he’d bother to get up) he hated it if I’d opened the curtains and windows. Now he’s gone my windows are permanently open and my cirtsins are all open by 7am 😂 freedom! X
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I used to not really be a morning person, wanting to just relax with breakfast, not much of a talker before having been awake for a bit. This was a big issue for him at the start of our relationship, so I had to change and be talkative in the mornings and show lots of affection. I changed.
Fast forward some time, and it was a problem that I was wanting to talk in the morning and wanted a hug and a kiss, as he had to wake up properly first so I had to change and respect this and be quiet. I changed.
Fast forward some time again, it was a problem that I wasn’t saying goodbye when I left for work in the mornings, so I had to change and make sure I would say goodbye and that I loved him before leaving. So I changed.
Fast forward some time yet again, it was a problem that I was disturbing his mornings in the bathroom by announcing my departure and I needed to respect his privacy. So I changed.
Fast forward some more time again, and it was a problem that I had made so many rules about how mornings were supposed to go and that I wasn’t helping him pack his workbag before I left for work (I suppose I should be grateful that he became too lazy to iron his work clothes even if that was standard for his profession, at least I only had to iron his work clothes for about a year). So I had to change by stop making all these rules.I’m no longer on edge every morning wondering what I will do wrong next.
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this might make you all giggle but i once actually folded some barbie jeans up and pretended i had shrunk his jeans! 😀 i was notorious for colour running the washing etc he was about to go berserk until i reveiled they were actually doll clothes! how b****y stupid i was laughing up my sleeve that day. i also found a caterpillar in his brocolli and chicken and left it there! he ate it and it felt kind off good 🙂 thats terrible isnt it? its all these little things that keep us going 😀 – gives us some form off sanity xxxx
love diymum
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Yup, you made me giggle alright 🙂 That took some serious guts DM, a normal man would have laughed at the joke, well done you 🙂
The colour running reminds me of the very last day I spent in the flat we shared. He had kicked me out and I was due to leave, but decided to do one last wash of laundry. When you’re used to having to be the one to do all the chores, even when he kicked me out via a third party, I still felt obligated to do his laundry! Except I “accidentally” put something of colour in with all the whites…. Oops. 🙂
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