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My Wife Got A Tattoo Without Telling Me

My Wife Got A Tattoo Without Telling Me

She stood in the mirror one morning and said, “I need to cut my hair.” She came back home in the evening and her hair was gone. Cut to the scalp. She asked me, “How do I look?” I said, “You look like you.” She asked, “You mean you don’t see any difference? Don’t I look young?” I remembered what a friend told me; “Listen to women very well. The answer they seek from you is always in the questions they ask.” I looked at her again. I said, “You look young. Sweet sixteen.” She smiled. She stayed in the mirror for a while. Smiled again and made a face that said, “I’m beautiful and I know it.”

We’ve been married for five years and have a three-year-old kid. My wife got a new job and found herself in the midst of new friends. She came home in the evening and couldn’t stop talking about them. I knew their names and stories even before I met them. There’s Vivienne. Everything she said about her was funny. There’s Adwoa, the no-nonsense girl. There’s Barbara who always brings new ideas to the group. She will be in the hall with me and talk about nothing else but her new friends. 

She started changing. The change started from her perm cut with a line that runs through from the front of her head to the back. The way she dressed started changing too. She always came home with new dresses and shoes. She wasn’t into makeup but all of a sudden she knew every brand by name and knows which one is better. She was doing everything within her power to fit into the new group she had found herself in. I loved it. I loved it to a certain extent. She was taking good care of her body and her looks. She didn’t take things for granted like she used to.

She came home one evening with running shoes. I asked, “New shoes?” She said, “Yeah new shoes. I’m starting workout sessions tomorrow. I need to lose weight. I’m the fattest among my friends. I don’t want that title so I’m shedding it off.” 

She acted as a girl possessed. She woke up each dawn, did some runs, and skipped here and there. She even had videos she was following for her workout. I teased her, “Operation size four in one month.” She laughed at me. She never stopped. She registered at a gym. Two months later, she was a different person. 

I went home one evening and she wasn’t back from work. I asked her whereabouts from the lady we are living with and she said, “She said she’ll be late so I should take care of your food.” I called her immediately, “You’ll be late and you didn’t tell me?” She answered, “I thought I will call later to tell you. Sorry. Are you home?” I said, “Yes I’m home. Where are you?” She answered, “I’m out with Vivienne and the others. I should be home very soon.”

I watched Tv till it was almost 11pm before she came home. She ran to me and gave me a hug. Something she had never done since we got married. She said, ”You’re still up waiting for me? Oh, you’re such a darling.” I said, “Asantewaa, tell me you won’t stay out till this late again. No, that’s not acceptable. A married woman shouldn’t be out till this late.” She said, “I wanted to leave earlier but those silly friends won’t allow me.” I told her, “You’re married. They are not married so you can’t allow them to dictate the pace for you. Don’t let me start making rules in this house.”

I slept angry that night. But I started thinking about all the changes my wife had gone through ever since she met those friends. I told myself, “I need to stop her before it gets too far.” 

One Friday morning she told me, “I won’t come home early today. I and the girls are going somewhere this evening.” I said, “Forget wherever you’re going this evening. You should be home when you ought to be home.” She didn’t say another word. She just picked her bag and left for work. I got home around 6pm and she wasn’t there. I called her phone. I asked, “Are you coming?” She said, “I told you I wouldn’t be home early today, have you forgotten?” I said, “Have you forgotten what I told you when you said you’ll be late?” She answered, ”I’ve forgotten. Sorry.”

I started ranting. I said twenty thousand words. All she said was, “I will be home soon but not now.”

If I knew where they were, I would have gone and picked her up. She wouldn’t tell me where they were. I could hear music. I could feel the fun going on around her but I couldn’t figure it out. Again, she came home around 11pm. We had a fight or let me just say I tried picking a fight with her but she didn’t mind me. She went inside, took off her clothes, went to the bath,e and later came to sleep. None of my questions got an answer. In the morning she told me, “We’ve been married for five years. This is the only time in my married life that I’m having fun. I’m not a girl. I know what’s good for me. Stop shouting. Stop trying to order me around. Stop trying to dim my light because I won’t allow you.”

The calm in her voice took me by surprise. The Asantewaa I knew would have fought back when I took the fight to her but she didn’t. She rather woke up and decided to be calm about the whole situation. We had a conversation. I put my worries across. I told her I wasn’t comfortable with the way she was living her life. I expected a change from her but that change never happened. 

One night, she didn’t come home until it was around 1am. I was boiling with rage. Her phone was off all night. When she came, I took the fight to her. Again, she didn’t talk. She went inside, change over, and went to bath. I followed her to the bath. I barked, “Who should take care of our son while you were out there having fun? You’re a married woman and a mother. Why are you living your life like a street girl?” She never uttered a word. The next morning she said, “Our son has a father. When I’m around, I take good care of him and the good thing is I’m around often so what’s your problem?”

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The fight was becoming bigger than me. I started going through her phone, monitoring conversations between her and her friends. There was nothing in there to suggest that they were doing something wrong. Except that there was one particular guy who was always present wherever they went. The friends referred to him as the boyfriend of my wife. They talked about it playfully but I took it seriously. I started investigating them three months ago and I’ve found nothing. 

I woke up one morning and saw a tattoo on my wife’s skin.

It’s a butterfly, drawn under her left arm. I woke her up. “Asantewaa, “When did you get a tattoo that you didn’t tell me?” She said, “A few days ago. I love butterflies so I decided to get one.” I looked at her like I didn’t know her. I said, “You’re becoming a stranger each day. Be careful, you’re slowly destroying us.” 

My worry is, she doesn’t see anything wrong with who she had become. I’ve been trying to know why she’s doing all that but she doesn’t explain her moves. She says very little but goes ahead to make huge changes. She’s no longer the woman I married and it’s worrying me. I’ve spoken to her on different occasions but she doesn’t listen. Now, I want to confront her friends. They are the reason she’s doing all that. I believe if I confront them and ask them to stay away from my wife they’ll listen and that will restore my wife to factory settings. Is that a good move?

–Korsah

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Source: CelebritiesbuzzGh | My Wife Got A Tattoo Without Telling Me