I thought Richard was perfect—until I watched his parents cut his steak for him.
Our meet-the-parents dinner revealed uncomfortable truths. His mother’s baby talk. His father’s demands about my future wifely duties. Most alarming? Richard’s complete acceptance of their infantilization.
When the bill arrived and his parents expected me to subsidize their extravagant order, the fantasy shattered. In that moment, I saw decades ahead of being trapped between a spineless husband and his overbearing parents.
Walking out was the hardest—and best—decision I’ve ever made. Sometimes love means knowing when to let go.
