She’s a psycho-bitch, and everyone knows it. They don’t say it aloud, but their eyes dart about the room whenever she enters one. You can feel the tension. She’ll scowl at anyone who goes near her husband, scolding him at every chance, cutting him off in mid-sentence and taking over his words. Heaven forbid if he ever had a thought develop in his poor, emasculated head. Hell would freeze over if one ever reached his lips.
I saw one, only one, land upon them a long time ago. Her steely gaze soon followed it, and the atmosphere turned to glass. Silence enveloped the fragile space, and I never witnessed another one make it to the surface again.
But this wasn’t the girl who originally dated him. That version presented itself as a kind, sweet and well-spoken human being. She respected his family and friends. The hell-bitch arrived right after the pregnancy was announced. That’s when the evil creature surfaced, and its forked tongue hissed to all and sundry. It could’ve gone either way, but he lost his nerve early, and instead of facing it down when he should’ve, he cowered in the corner. I think he even developed a proper hunch over it.
She had him lock, stock and bank account.
In the years that followed, his friends and family were exiled individually. She didn’t have to explain her reasoning; she reached down, squeezed her husband’s nut-bag, and he yielded to her wishes. Once this pattern of behaviour had rooted itself inside their marriage, she could do anything anytime, for any reason — and she does.
My son married a female narcissist, a witch, our family’s only evil in-law, and he’s stuck with her.
Forget her for a moment; I can’t figure him out. He’s a smart man. He left his family home an intelligent person with an astute mind and a solid heart — a sensible individual who became a respectful, well-paid professional in a position of authority. He’s never been in trouble with the law, never entertained fools, until he married one and then knocked her up. I can’t understand how she tricked him so easily.
Unfortunately, my son looks gaunt and withered. She’s broken the boy I raised, and I can’t say a thing to him about it because she blocks every path when I try to. The saddest part goes to my three grandchildren — the next generation who’ll never know me or what a kind relationship between a man and a woman should look like. Their dad appears irrelevant and weak, while their mother represents strength and dominance. They never really stood a chance.
I find the belief that a strong woman results in the emasculation of a man to be a really outdated and inaccurate concept. I wonder if there was a way you could view this scenario differently if you found a new perspective to look at the situation with?
Hi and thanks for commenting.
I doubt another view would change the scenery. She’s loud and opinionated. She used to be quiet and respectful like him. Once the pregnancy was certain, she changed and changed a lot. -M