Yesterday, I turned 57, and despite what some may think, I’m absolutely enjoying my age. There’s a certain freedom that comes with knowing who you are, a confidence that doesn’t require validation from anyone.
However, my husband, Mike, seems to have missed that memo. Constantly mocking my age, gray hair, and wrinkles, he’s become an incessant source of negativity in my life. But it wasn’t until my birthday party that I realized just how deep his disdain ran.
The Passive-Aggressive Husband
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