Father s bottle and mother s tears My husband redeemed our family with his fists

Mondo Social Updated on 2024-03-01

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On an inadvertent spring evening, I met him, and my world was never the same again.

After half a year of acquaintance and half a year of love, we decided to enter the palace of marriage.

To outsiders, this may seem like a rush, but if you know my past, you may understand that for me, it's all just right.

I grew up in a family that seemed ordinary, but in fact there was an undercurrent.

My father, an alcoholic addict, indulged in a sea of alcohol every day from morning till night, and his care and responsibilities for his family had long been forgotten.

My mother, on the other hand, was the traditional kind of good wife and mother, silently enduring my father's violence and indifference, and her patience and gentleness gradually turned into powerlessness and cowardice in my eyes.

Growing up in such a family, I had my own ideas about love and marriage.

It's about escaping as soon as possible and finding a haven that gives me a real sense of security.

That day, as I was walking aimlessly in the park, trying to escape the haunting of my heart, he appeared.

His first words weren't to ask me what my name was, but to hand me a bottle of water and say, "Looks like you need this." There was no pity in his eyes, only deep understanding and concern.

And just like that, I was completely intrigued. He's a sanda coach, sunny, healthy and cares for me.

More importantly, his three views are admirable, and our values are highly consistent in many ways.

Soon, we decided to get married.

It may seem like a hasty decision to many, but for me, it's a dream I've always dreamed of coming true.

I know that many people will wonder why I am so eager to get married, but what they don't know is that for me, it's more than just marriage, it's a relief.

I think if you're willing to listen to me, you'll understand why I made that choice.

This is not just a simple love story, it hides my sadness and helplessness for many years, as well as my longing and hope for the future.

In the days that followed, my relationship with him was full of sweetness and harmony.

He is not only my lover, but also my guardian, building a protective wall for me with his warmth and firmness, and making me feel more secure than I have ever felt.

However, the happy days did not make me forget the past, but made me realize more clearly that what I desperately wanted to escape was not just a person, but a tragedy that was inherited.

My father, a self-exiled man in the world of alcohol.

I remember when I was a child, my house was always filled with the smell of alcohol, and that pungent smell seemed to have permeated every corner of the house.

His life revolved almost entirely around wine – from morning to night, day after day, year after year.

I tried to express my concerns to him and wanted him to drink less, but each time I was met with angry scolding and even violence.

My mother, a once beautiful and gentle woman, was worn out of her light by this marriage.

Her patience and silence constitute the heaviest part of my childhood memory.

I often quietly hope that if she could have been braver, maybe our lives would have been completely different.

Growing up, I learned to hide my emotions and to find comfort in my father's roars and my mother's tears.

My deepest wish was for my mother to take me out of this gloomy home and to a place where we could all breathe free air.

But this wish can always be only a wish.

Her mother's cowardice and blind pursuit of love made it impossible for her to make the decision to leave.

I couldn't change her choice, but I knew I couldn't let my future repeat her past.

After graduating from college, I met him, my husband.

His appearance is like a gift from fate.

Our encounter was simple and beautiful, and he gave me new hope with his determination and bravery.

I knew that with him, I could have a different future.

However, a happy life does not mean that the past can be completely forgotten.

Soon after we got married, I took him back to my home.

That day, my father sat at the table and drank as usual.

His mother reminded him softly, hoping that he would put down his glass for a while and sit down with us for a chat.

I watched as my father's face grew gloomy, and then the table was overturned and my mother was mercilessly scolded.

At that moment, I felt fear and anger like never before, and I took his hand and decided to leave.

He asked me if my mother would be safe after leaving. I was speechless, and my heart was filled with a sense of powerlessness.

We hadn't gone far before my mother's ** called, her voice full of pain and helplessness.

We immediately turned around and saw my mother's face covered in scars.

At that moment, I was completely determined that no matter what, I couldn't let anything like this happen again.

My husband, in that moment showed his true courage.

Instead of choosing to remain silent, he confronted my father, and his actions, though intense, were protecting us.

After that time, my father never dared to do anything to my mother.

My mother later told me that she had finally understood that it was not with gentleness and patience to make a violent man stop, but to make him feel the consequences of the pain.

Now, whenever I go home with him, I can feel the change in the air at home.

My father became more gentle, and his attitude towards us and my mother changed significantly.

He began to drink less and his physical condition improved.

I finally understood that some people are indeed not suitable for excessive tolerance and understanding, and they need to face the consequences before they can change.

Through this series of experiences, I learned a lot, not only how to face and solve problems, but more importantly, how to protect myself and my loved ones.

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