(My silly hearts loves you, but is afraid to confess it in your presence)
What I’m about to say might not be in the same context as this song, but comes closest to it. Normally A’s the perfect husband; considerate, caring, helping. I’ve happily confessed many times on my blog that I feel blessed to be married to a gem like him. He’s more resilient than I ever can be and can tolerate my insanity and temper with surprising ease. He showers me with endless ‘I Love You’s , random pecks and hugs are aplenty, making me feel like a very desirable queen! 🙂
Having said that, there’s another side to this story in which the queen magically gets converted into a make-shift stranger. And it does not feel good! 😦
Let me elaborate a bit on this. One thing that me and A end up arguing most when at my in-laws’ place is his indifference towards me. When we’re on our own I’m at liberty to voice my opinion and behave according to my wish and will. But in front of his parents I’m expected to blindly follow their rules, no matter how demeaning and chauvinistic they are. The usual excuse is, ‘Follow them for as long as you’re here. You’re free to do what you want at our place’. Is there really the need to have such double standards, especially when I detest it from the core?
Forget about the cute mushy habits, I know they are tough to follow (the concept of stolen moments is lost on him) when there’s people just about everywhere. But aren’t there simple things that can convey love too? Or is it a taboo to express your feelings when your parents are around? The MIL doesn’t mind claiming full right on her son for as long as we’re there while I’m left sulking and grimacing for not being able to get through to him. Tricky situation, and my loss all the way.
This setting is bearable when the number of days is limited to single digits. When it starts getting longer than that, it becomes a pain and I can’t wait to come back home and get my normal husband back. It is not at all exciting to have to endure all this. I’ve not been able to figure out where exactly the problem lies. Is it the mother who still can’t let go of her son? Or the son who thinks ignoring his wife would make his mother feel better? Or the stupid belief that we need to bow down to our elders’ wishes at all times?