Hindsight

I looked at my first post and decided it was not worth rewriting. I may reconsider this in hindsight…

Hindsight…
What an appropriate prompt to begin with.
To see how things could have been different if only…
If only…
If only…
I suppose it really only leaves the ugliness of regret. Not a word I like, but a feeling I have felt all too often this past year.

One such instance.

She spoke in riddles that could only be deciphered in her own head. She spoke in judgemental inflections that led me to believe she was weighing the content of my words and actions with precision.
In hindsight, I should have…
Many “should haves” have run through my mind. Sworn, shouted, told her to stay out of my life…
In the end I did what was right. I think. I let things slide. A allowed her to believe that she had won, whilst inside I was seething, fighting the desire to explode. In the end, she continues to live in ignorance and I have kept the peace, but in hindsight…
She won. She won, because I allowed her to get to me. I allowed her judgment to affect my own sense of worth.

I think it was the double standards that have annoyed me the most.
Male versus female.
We live in a society, I would like to believe, where equality can exist in a marriage, and certainly in my own. However…
Comments speckled otherwise normal conversation, just enough for my hackles to raise, but not enough that I couldn’t contain myself.
I do not like to be told what I “have to do” or “should do” because I am a wife.
Or how “lucky” I am.
Or how “these are the best days of your life” and I “should” enjoy them.
It may sound petty, but the fact is the iceberg runs deep and cold.
After a year of slight put downs and negative comments dressed up as make believe compliments I wanted to strangle some one.
In hindsight, it was best I didn’t
In hindsight, I realise I’m not the one with the problem.
In hindsight, my decision of inaction was the best decision.
Hindsight doesn’t change desire …

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