The Prison She Chose

As I inquired about the emotional state of his wife, I was taken aback by his response. “She gets upset, making comparisons to what others have. Don’t let it bother you.”, he said, insinuating that she was somehow at fault. It was raw pithiness. He gave absolutely no concern to the fact that his wife might be very upset. His immediate goals were to dismiss her emotional state and tell me how busy having a child had made his life. Unfortunately, he was far too immersed in his own being that he failed to recognize our family dynamic, which consisted of three children, one of which has special needs. I’d seen this look before though, this attitude, this dismissal of emotional needs of a spouse. It sickened me.

Many years earlier it was in fact my own father who had exuded such passive-aggressive arrogance toward a woman facing similar anxieties. I had grown to despise this self-righteous, male-dominant, bread-winner attitude. And now, this time it was effecting me in a completely different way. That’s right, this time I was the one in crisis who desperately needed this type of man to actually be a man for once.

Sadly, some men think being nice and cool and chasing boyhood fun is more important than looking their wife in the eye and putting her first in his life. Even sadder is when said wife claims to stand-up for human rights, or more notably women’s rights, yet this control continues to shackle her without her even realizing that she is in fact shackled. Still, I don’t place all the blame on her. To the contrary, his arrogance carries this and owns it!

Such arrogance is destined for demise. I can clearly and openly say this because I’ve seen it with my own eyes and I’ve experienced it, as a son, with my own heart. Reality, however is that she broke free from one prison only to arrive in a timely manner at this new, more decorated version.

I sent so many prayers up for so long that I literally heard God say, “Your prayers have been received. Now I want you to pray for something else.” I did everything I could. I offered all the care I had. I gave all the empathy possible. Still, I was helpless. I was so helpless that it hurt. This was new hurt layered on top of hurt that already existed.

The truth is there are boundaries and when they are expressed and established I try not to cross them. Some boundaries aren’t clear, but they are loud, and those are the ones which are most easily heard.

Anyway, this post isn’t about me. It’s about what my intuition has shown me and how terribly tragic it is. I really can’t think of a more dreadful experience I could have had at a time when I really just needed an explanation and a little bit of peace. Eventually though I got an explanation, but it didn’t come from a person, it came from my subconscious.

I can’t free her from this prison she chose. Only she can do that. My deep hope is that she finds a way to freedom, but my heart tells me what reality already knows. She won’t.