Married for 12 years, I, 32, was worn out raising our kids—Lily, 10, and Brandon, 5—while my husband, Eric, 43, did little. I handled parenting, part-time work, and all household tasks alone, while Eric believed his paycheck was his only duty. He never helped with diapers, homework, or bedtime, preferring TV or video games. I loved our children, but I was drained. One day, I asked him to watch them for an hour so I could meet a friend. “I worked all week,” he said, glued to the screen. “Moms don’t need breaks. My mom didn’t.” I snapped. “She probably felt trapped like me!”
Eric waved me off. “You wanted kids, Katie. It’s your job.” I countered, “They’re yours too!” but he insisted his money was enough. A week later, at dinner, he said, “Let’s have another kid.” I nearly dropped my knife. “I’m overwhelmed with two!” I said. “You don’t help.” He frowned. “I provide. That’s plenty.” I argued parenting was more than cash, but his mother, Brianna, visiting with his sister Amber, chimed in. “Eric works hard,” Brianna said. “Be grateful.” Amber added, “Mom never complained.” I was furious. “I’m not complaining—I’m exhausted!” I told Eric his mindset was unfair, but he said, “Deal with it.”
Later, he pressed for another child. “You barely know Lily and Brandon!” I said. “I’m not raising three alone.” Furious, he slammed out, likely to his mom’s. The next day, Brianna and Amber barged in, saying I’d changed and wasn’t the “sweet” girl Eric married. “I’m a woman who values herself,” I replied. Amber called it disloyalty, but my sister arrived, warning them to leave or face the police. They stormed out. When Eric returned, he accused me of disrespecting his family. “I told them to butt out,” I said. He shouted, “Leave!” I packed but said, “The kids stay with whoever keeps the house.” He froze. I walked out with my sister. Eric refused custody, so I divorced him, kept the house, got full custody, and won child support. My stand changed everything.
