Stop being convenient, Stan muttered, shaking his head.
Do I still have to earn love after twentyplus years of marriage? Blythe asked, eyes twinkling. How fascinating!
Youre a clever woman, Stan snapped, frowning. Is it really that hard to grasp what I meant?
When a woman is told shes clever, Blythe replied, people usually value the opposite trait!
And there you go again, misunderstanding everything! Your attempt at manipulation doesnt count! In this case youre wrong, not me! Stan declared.
Ah, in this particular situation, Blythe continued, what an interesting predicament we have!
So youve just come home exhausted and need a break, and I, as your understanding wife, should not only stay out of your way but also bring dinner to the sofa?
Blythe, youre making it sound as if Im a tyrant! Stan pursed his lips. But as a reasonable man, cant you see Im tired?
I get that youre tired, Blythe nodded. But you can still walk to the kitchen. Youre not crippled or dying!
So, only then will you serve me food? Stan retorted. Do you want me to become disabled, orGod forbidsomething worse?
Less talk, more action, Blythe said, pointing toward the kitchen. Its right there.
Come on, Blythe! Dont you understand? Im a normal person and Im exhausted!
Enough pleading, Stan! Blythe raised her voice. Im worn out from work too. I dont want to be running back and forth with trays. Youll soon be asking me for salt, ketchup, sour cream, mayo, extra bread, or any other garnishwhile everything you need is already in the kitchen. Just get up, grab it, and be satisfied!
Stan shook his head. With that attitude youll never earn my love, he said, shuffling toward the kitchen with the gait of a dying swan.
Actor! Blythe snorted, settling more comfortably in her armchair.
She waited. She imagined the moment, and the moment arrived.
Blythe! Whats that supposed to mean? Stans shout echoed from the kitchen.
Blythe didnt even think about jumping up. She stayed seated, a single muscle not flinching.
Blythe! Stan burst into the room. Whats that?
The pots in the fridge, the plates are on the drying rack, the microwave is where it belongs, Blythe said calmly.
Honestly! Stan muttered through clenched teeth. Thats absurd!
For the record, Blythe smiled sweetly, Im also exhausted from work. The conclusion?
Stan stared at his wife for a minute, cursed, and trudged back to the kitchen.
It could have sparked a fullblown family quarrel with tragic fallout, but the next day a visit was planned.
Blythes mother, Margaret Whitfield, decided to gather the family, citing Its been ages since weve all been together. The reason was thin, but theyd postponed it many times before.
Mrs. Whitfield simply wanted the family together for a chat, not any particular occasion.
Stan thought he could vent to his motherinlaw. Let her give her daughter a proper talkingto!
When the formal part of the gathering ended and everyone moved on to dessert, Stan blurted out, I understand, Mrs. Whitfield, but somethings awry with your daughter!
My point is, the changes are heading toward divorce paperwork! Youd see the impact if you paid attentioneverything in life can happen!
Good heavens, whats happened? Mrs. Whitfield gasped, clutching her chest.
Yesterday I came home from work, utterly spent. I bring home the £2,500 each month for the family, and that week was brutally stressful! I was drained! I asked Blythe to feed the breadwinner, and she just pointed at the fridge and didnt move a muscle!
Mrs. Whitfields eyes widenedsurprise, outrage, desperation, terror.
Blythe held that stare calmly, almost detached.
I didnt want to bring this up, interjected Blythes brother, Colin, but somethings off with Blythe and me! I go to Sunday fathers groups! You know my exgirlfriend Annieno shame, no conscience! I only get weekends with Zena, and thats once a month! I live alone, collecting child support for my daughter. So Im short on time to clean! I asked Blythe for help and she never refused because she knew where I was and when the chores were due! Then she pointed me at the broom, tossed a rag under my feet, and told me not to be a pig!
Shes even ill, apparently, chimed in Stans son, Dennis. I politely asked her to iron my shirt for a date. She handed me the iron, put a tutorial on my tablet, and that was it!
Blythe listened to both complaints without a flicker of agitation.
Her mother, however, was anything but calm. Blythe, what does that mean? Mrs. Whitfield demanded, voice trembling. You used to be such a good girlsweet, polite, helpful! Im ashamed of you!
And Im not ashamed of myself! Blythe replied firmly.
Sunspots appear on a bright day, just as patience can lose its shine and become frowned upon. People now criticize endurance rather than praise it.
Why endure? they ask. Why put up with it for so long?
Id never have put up with it! they declare.
Frustration multiplies when someone shows patience, as if it were a flaw, while burning bridges at the first convenience is praised.
But honest dialoguesolving problems with words rather than fists or charred bridgesis still valued.
Delicacy was Blythes nature. Shed been raised to see each person as a separate world, making it foolish to impose ones own standards on anothers soul. To truly understand someone, you must step into their shoes, see through their eyes, think as they think, and only then judge actions.
Applying that, Blythe grasped why a friend had taken her boyfriend. It hurtfirst love and all that. She first considered the boyfriends side:
He wanted more, and I wasnt ready. Henrietta was not only ready, she wanted it herself. If Philip had been ten years older, his hormones would have been steadier. His decision, then, was logical.
Then she saw the friends perspective:
She comes from a large family, constantly short on cash, with parents demanding she look after younger siblings. Philips wealthy parents and being an only child made him a ticket out of her familys chaos and a promise of a better life.
That was just one example; many more existed. Blythe never gave up at the first hurdle. She always tried to discern what drove a persons actions.
Even at work, when colleagues set her up, she often proved her point and restored fairness, never blaming the offenderjust uncovering the motive. Any motive, unless its madness, has a legitimate claim to existence and can justify behaviour.
For Stan, Blythe became a treasurea priceless gem. Most of his flaws were forgiven, brushed aside as harmless quirks. It wasnt perfect, but it was unnoticed.
Not every man knows how to compliment or court a woman, Blythe observed. So I wont berate him for not bringing flowers or opening doors. Ill just pull my own chair in a restaurant if needed.
She applied the same logic elsewhere. She understood Stan wasnt a neatfreak; his mother always handled tidying. He wasnt a chef; his upbringing didnt teach him that. He didnt know how to work a washing machine. In short, at home he knew nothing, and Blythe realised not all men are wired for domestic chores.
She asked him to help, taught him, but most of the time did it herself.
When Stan didnt display obvious fatherly affection toward their son, Blythe was patient. Science backs him: men typically start bonding with a child around age three, when they can interact, play, and teach. A squalling infant is a mystery even to them, and many fear it.
So Stans irritation when Dennis cried, or Blythes extra time with their son, made sensethere was fear and a hint of jealousy.
When their marriage crossed the tenyear mark, Blythe accepted that Stan grew colder. The habit stuck; were no longer lads with raging hormones.
She also understood his need for evenings out with friendsworkhome, homework, and the occasional change of scenery.
A strange thought crossed her mind: what if Stan had a mistress? Could she still accept and understand? No answer was needed; Stan never looked left, so that flaw never materialised.
Life wasnt only about the husband. Their son Dennis followed his fathers footsteps, preferring videogame battles over chores, despite Blythes attempts to teach him household help. Yet he saw his father as a role modela natural outcome.
Blythe also had a younger brother, Colin, whose personality was the opposite. He loved noise, drama, and conflict, feeding off others energy. Childhood mischief made Blythe cry, but later she recognised it as his jealousy and need to control emotions.
Colins marriage was brief; his wife had a strong character. After a few tumultuous years they divorced, leaving their daughter Zoe without a complete family. The point wasnt Colins nature but the fact he became a Sunday dad, still clueless about domestic tasksanother Stan in the making.
Before taking Zoe for the weekend, Colin asked Blythe to tidy his den and whip up something decent, because he survived on takeaway. Zoe visited her dad roughly once a month, so his responsibilities were sparse.
Then there was their mother. People say a mother is sacred, and theyre right. When a mother asks for help, a child cant refuse. Yet if the request becomes extreme, refusal is possible.
Mrs. Whitfield never overstepped. She could clean and cook; she had the stamina. She invited Blythe mainly for company, not labor. Blythe gladly helped, seeing the need for conversation as much as the chores.
If Mrs. Whitfield had just asked Blythe to sit, she probably wouldnt have lingered. But while cleaning and cooking, they talked, and nothing foreshadowed trouble. Still, Blythe eventually said a firm No. Why?
Im not ashamed of myself, Im just sad for my own mistakes, Blythe confessed. I realised I was foolish to accept everyones flaws and behaviour.
The foolishness was thinking I could take care of you, do everything better, and that youd appreciate it because you love me, she continued. I thought youd think of me, not because I did something for you, but because you valued me. I never saw that coming.
The room fell silent. They were used to Blythes quiet, and now she spoke.
Im not a girl anymore, she went on. Its too late to change everything, but from now on Ill do only what I want.
Want to feed the husband after work? Ill serve, set the table, wash the dishes. Dont want to? Stan, you know where the fridge is! Youre old enough to feed yourself, and so is Dennishes seventeen now. He can handle cooking, cleaning, ironing if he wants a crisp shirt.
She turned to her brother. If I feel like seeing my niece, Ill come over and tidy up. If not, youll manage the little tasks yourself or hire a cleanerjust not me.
And you, Mum, can meet your daughter in a clean flat and serve something tasty without making me do it all! Blythe said, watching the sour expressions of her relatives. She realised they disliked hearing her assert herself. She simply didnt want to be everyones convenience any longer. She wanted to be convenient for herself.
Im going home, Blythe announced, standing. If you dont like the new rules, I wont drag anyone along, and dont call me.
Her husband and son returned only for their belongings. Her brother stopped calling. Her mother phoned just to accuse her of selfishness.
Selfishness, Mum, isnt just thinking of yourself, Blythe replied. Its demanding that everyone think of you first, then yourself later. Reflect on that.
She might not have intended to overhaul her life so dramatically, but life reshaped itself. A new chapter opened for a new Blytheone of happiness, all because she learned to say No.
The lesson? True contentment comes not from bending for everyone else, but from honoring your own needs and boundaries.
