Ah, husbands—a topic that can fill our hearts with joy, frustration, and the occasional urge to bang our heads against the wall. They say men are easy to deal with… I beg to differ. If anything, we’re the real challenge here—let’s blame it on Eve. After all, she convinced Adam to take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Since that moment, the grand saga between men and women began.
Lately, I don’t envy my husband at all. Poor guy. He’s reached a point where he doesn’t know how to deal with me, and honestly, I don’t know how to deal with myself either! Am I the only one feeling this way? Or are we all bobbing around in the same boat, desperately trying to keep our heads above the waves? Some days, we surrender and let ourselves sink like we’re drowning in emotions. Then, panic sets in, and we kick back to the surface, gasping for air, fighting to hold it together. What a mess! Controlling our emotions, our bodies, and—heaven help us—our tongues seem nearly impossible.
You know that “silent phase” during an argument! It can be a real lifesaver—until it isn’t. Sometimes, it’s like a calm after the storm, giving everyone time to cool down. Other times, it’s just a ticking time bomb, making everything feel ten times worse. We shout, vent, and cry—all pouring out in frustration. And then, after the storm has passed, we smile, laugh, and pretend nothing happened. It’s wild how we can swing from one extreme to another intensely.
But deep down, it’s exhausting. I’m not me anymore. I feel like someone else—someone I don’t particularly love. And that’s the hardest part. Sometimes, all it takes to break the cycle is a hug, a simple gesture of safety and security from my husband. That’s when I feel the inner peace return like I’m grounded again. It’s as if, through all the madness, that one embrace reminds me that I’m still loved, no matter how chaotic I’ve been. Maybe that’s all we really need—to feel loved, even when we can’t love ourselves.
Nada Najjar
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