I’m a 30-year-old man.
I’ve been married for ten years, and we have a 10-year-old daughter.
Lately, I’ve been wondering whether my wife truly feels any sense of belonging in our home. To me, it often feels like she’s just staying in a temporary place — coming back to eat, sleep, and go to work. When she’s in a good mood, she’ll buy a few things. When she’s not, she shuts down, gets upset over small details, and then gives me the cold shoulder.
Today was one of those days.
After work, I brought home a cup of milk tea. I put in the straw and called out to her, asking her to drink it. She was lying on the bed scrolling through her phone and didn’t respond. When it was time for dinner, I drank about half of it myself. Later, I asked her again if she wanted it.
She said,
“If you really wanted me to have it, you should’ve given me the first sip.”
I didn’t know what to say.
I also brought home an orange and gave it to my daughter, saying it was a special product from my company and very sweet, and that she could share it with her grandmother later. I think that moment made my wife feel forgotten again. Her mood dropped immediately.
These kinds of things happen a lot.
I’ve become extremely careful with everything I say and do, constantly wondering whether it might upset her. But even then, I still seem to get it wrong.
I earn about 6,000 a month. After paying 1,800 in rent, there’s barely anything left. I work too. I’m tired too. But going home doesn’t feel like rest anymore — it feels like walking into another test. I have to read her mood first and decide whether I’m allowed to talk, stay quiet, or just disappear.
She wants me to constantly provide emotional reassurance.
But I’m not a very talkative person, especially with her. Our conversations often turn sharp. She speaks harshly to me, and sometimes to my mother as well, as if she’s carrying a lot of resentment. I’ve learned that talking usually leads to arguments, so I choose silence to avoid conflict.
To her, that silence probably looks like indifference.
Last month, she moved out once. I spent a long time apologizing and convincing her to come back.
Then money became the breaking point again.
I had promised to give her a monthly amount, but after my father passed away, my finances collapsed. I even used credit cards to get by. When she asked how much debt I had, I told her the truth. We had a huge argument on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, and she packed her things and left again.
It’s not that I don’t want to give her money.
I genuinely can’t.
Sometimes I sit alone and ask myself:
Does she no longer love me?
Or am I simply failing as a husband?
All I know is that I’m exhausted.
So exhausted that some days, I don’t even look forward to going home after work.
I’m not writing this to blame anyone or to seek sympathy.
I just needed a place to finally say the things I’ve been holding in for years.
If you’ve read this far, thank you for listening.