Poverty trumps death!
I once wrote in a poem, that anyone that plays for the opposing team would never support another that is playing against them. That is the consistent attitude I see displayed in my husband. It is obvious we are not on the same team. When I finally heard back from him, he insinuated that I was the cause of our daughter’s behavior. With all, she has done, that was the last response I expected from him.
Last night I could feel the ligaments tightened in my chest as I spoke to the authorities, and again when my lawyer friend got here. I stayed for as long as I did in my marriage because I felt I had no other alternative. I now realized that I do. Of course, the quality of my life would change, and that might have been the root of what was holding me here. After today, I realized that if my choice was to be poor or die. I think I would chose poverty. After all, I claimed to love the poor so much, and I once tiredly advocated for them. Why should I be afraid of that state of being?
It haunted me that after I worked so hard and paid my way through college that I can no longer use my qualification. This is all because I dedicated my life to slave away for my family. Is this actually my reward? Now I get to feel the effects of being a submissive woman. Well kudos to all those determine women out there who were able to hold unto their profession while caring for children. Those who were able to walk away and face the harsh criticism of society, hats off to you. Most of all to those who were honestly satisfied with being in the shadow of their husband, you get the Academy award.
For more of Ruth's poetry purchase, Fantasy/Controversy or My Reality.
Last night I could feel the ligaments tightened in my chest as I spoke to the authorities, and again when my lawyer friend got here. I stayed for as long as I did in my marriage because I felt I had no other alternative. I now realized that I do. Of course, the quality of my life would change, and that might have been the root of what was holding me here. After today, I realized that if my choice was to be poor or die. I think I would chose poverty. After all, I claimed to love the poor so much, and I once tiredly advocated for them. Why should I be afraid of that state of being?
It haunted me that after I worked so hard and paid my way through college that I can no longer use my qualification. This is all because I dedicated my life to slave away for my family. Is this actually my reward? Now I get to feel the effects of being a submissive woman. Well kudos to all those determine women out there who were able to hold unto their profession while caring for children. Those who were able to walk away and face the harsh criticism of society, hats off to you. Most of all to those who were honestly satisfied with being in the shadow of their husband, you get the Academy award.
For more of Ruth's poetry purchase, Fantasy/Controversy or My Reality.
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