The Waitress
Tyler was right. I’m now 42 years old and still worthless.
I married my college sweetheart, Tyler. After we married I wasn’t allowed to work outside the house, have any friends or leave the house without his approval. He demanded the house be kept spotless and supper (and me) ready for him whenever he got home from work, anywhere from six to midnight. When I failed to live up to his expectations he’d let me know how worthless I was. He wanted sons and I’m worthless because I couldn’t get pregnant. He would weigh me every Sunday morning, and I’m worthless if my weight was higher than what he had set for me. I’m worthless because I ate too much, I could never get a job because I’m a worthless leach.
Tyler was right. I’m now 42 years old and still worthless.
I married my college sweetheart, Tyler. After we married I wasn’t allowed to work outside the house, have any friends or leave the house without his approval. He demanded the house be kept spotless and supper (and me) ready for him whenever he got home from work, anywhere from six to midnight. When I failed to live up to his expectations he’d let me know how worthless I was. He wanted sons and I’m worthless because I couldn’t get pregnant. He would weigh me every Sunday morning, and I’m worthless if my weight was higher than what he had set for me. I’m worthless because I ate too much, I could never get a job because I’m a worthless leach.
