Through These (Tired) Eyes

For me, being 41 means having seen a lot more than I sometimes really want to know. It means having heard stuff that I can’t always put up with – yet I have to either keep quiet about it or speak my mind up. Proper timing is the key and ... let’s just be honest, shall we? Sometimes there isn’t just that.

However, that doesn’t mean I regret the experiences. (Well, at least not all of them, anyway.) I’ve just realised that, the older you get, the less you are willing to respond to anything that displeases you.

In other words, pick your battles (more) wisely.

I’ve seen a really lazy, selfish, and ungrateful man. He’s been blessed with a loyal, hardworking wife and four beautiful, loving little children. I know some other men who want all he has now.

For starters, this man always complains. In his mind, it’s everyone else’s fault but his. He refuses to see that yes, he’s often part of the problem too.

This man wants to feel powerful through the expenses of others. He wants to be the boss without earning much or lifting a finger. Well, even if he does some bare minimum of effort, he expects to be noticed and highly appreciated – while he never feels the need to do the same thing to other people who do things for him.

Sounds really exhausting, eh? That’s what happens when you’re dealing with such self-entitled people. Everything is – and must always be – about them.

In short, his wife and kids mostly leave him alone. They don’t feel like asking for his help or attention anymore. Why? Why bother? Instead of being genuinely helpful, he only makes it more difficult for them.

For example: he hates it when his wife does most things all by herself. He feels like she doesn’t need or respect him for being ‘oh-so-independent’. He feels so ... demasculated.

How sad. How tragic.

Then, what happens when she decides to give him what he wants? He’s being even more difficult. He starts acting as if she’s asking him for too much. He doesn’t want her (or anyone) to burden him with more problems.

In other words, he wants her to be completely dependent on him, but he also doesn’t want her to want so many things. He just wants to control and overpower her. That’s it.

If you ask me, I’m struggling to even breathe properly at the thought of it. I am silently seething. I’m no longer afraid of being portrayed as ‘just another nosy mean bitch’ by the likes of him.

“What the hell do you want, bitch?” I sometimes wish I could just yell at him. “Do you want her to ask for your help – only so you can feel needed like the man you think you want to be – or do you want her to fend for herself because the truth is, you don’t really care about what she needs? Once again, you make it all about you. For once in your life, make up your damned mind!”

Of course, I’m generally quiet in real life. I know where my voice is not wanted. I know who doesn’t want to listen to me. They’d rather see that I keep quiet and just mind my own business.

There are too many things these (tired) eyes have already seen. Too painful things. Sometimes it’s hard to look away from them.

When I do, I find myself filled with dread. Why? What if it slowly becomes a habit? What if that act alone turns my heart cold, down to the point I (choose to) stop caring at all?

Will I become bad? Will that turn me into a selfish bitch?

It’s always harder when it happens to the people you care about. It’s hard because you know that you still can’t do much. Eventually, it’s all up to them.

It’s their choice to do something about it or not. They can just put up with all the verbal, emotional, and psychological abuses or just be done with them all. They know what to do. They always have.

I might sound cold and hateful here. Well, what if for once in my life, I really don’t care?

R.