My Dad was extremely controlling and while it went well with his sons (or at least one of them) it didn’t set well with his wife or daughter. The result was when I left home to seek my fortune I left home for good, rarely went back. Later when my mom became a widow, I asked her why she didn’t have more friends because with friends “you might find someone to love again.”.
Her reply was pithy: “I will never again be the subjugated subject or foot stool of any man. Never.” And she wasn’t, either. Happy? Yes, she was. She had very little money and spent less. But she controlled it. I was really proud of her. I feared my dad, but I loved my Mom.
I am so easy going in general that I was a placating wife and tried to please. So the husbands were able to control me too much. It was a bad balance. That is never happening again. I can run my own life now and no one is holding me back or ripping me off. I’m happy for every happy marriage but to me a good marriage looks a lot like a glittery unicorn.
My dad literally survived 3 wars. Was torpedoed and sunk in the frigid North Atlantic... and didn’t talk much about Korea and Vietnam.
Thinking back he, like many of that generation grew up hard, went to war, and probably suffered PTSD, which either rendered them inert, or crazy, or mean. Pops was a bit of each and applied alcohol to ease the struggle. I was about 40 when I as a vet and my peer group put it all together.
I am not as hard hearted as I once conditioned myself to be, and I’ve been a few places in life where pops dared tread... damn those guys had it tough. I’m thankful I didn’t worry the old man like my sisters did.
God Bless them all.