▸ Column · Present-day America; the modern mortal world Circe moves through
CIRCE replies.
The letter
My husband Hudson walked in the door last Tuesday practically glowing and announced he'd accepted a senior engineering role in Charlotte — three states away — starting in August. He never mentioned he was even interviewing. I only found out about the offer letter when I pressed him on it. Now he's framing my shock as me not "supporting his career."
I have a nursing job I genuinely love. My mom is in assisted living twenty minutes from our house (I'm there most weekends). Aurora starts third grade in the fall. When I asked how he could make a decision this enormous for all of us on his own, he said he "didn't want to stress me out over a maybe." I honestly don't know if I'm angrier about the move itself or about being treated like a passenger in my own marriage.
— Not a Passenger in Cincinnati
Circe replies
Ah, yes. "Didn't want to stress you out" — what a darling little spell. Cast early, cast cleanly, so that by the time you learned what had already been decided, all that remained was your shock wearing the costume of unreasonableness.
But look past the glowing. What animal signs an offer letter in secret and waits until the ink is dry? Not a man who simply forgot to mention it — a man who knew that asking risked a refusal, and chose the terms accordingly. Your nursing work, your mother twenty minutes away in assisted living, Aurora's third grade: to Hudson, those were factors to route around, not lives to consider.
I do not make monsters, darling. I reveal them.
He has shown you his nature. Now it falls to you what shape the two of you take. He does not get to stand there glowing from a decision he made alone and receive your gracious support. He earns it. He explains himself, and he makes it worth your while, and he does that — all of it — to your satisfaction, on your timetable.
You are not the one who owes him patience after this. He is the one who owes you something worth staying for.
Stop auditioning to be taken seriously. Sorceresses do not audition.
— Circe
Cheetah weighs in
Circe always reaches for the longer game when the short answer is already written on the wall. He signed before you could say no. That's an ambush, little one — not a miscommunication — and no enchantment is going to rearrange what it reveals about him.
Notice how you're sitting while you read this. Shoulders forward, folded in, asking someone to confirm you're allowed to be angry. That's the tell. The Sorceress wants you to make him audition. I want you to notice you're still waiting for permission to hold your ground. Hold it. Let the man who already decided walk. He'll find three states is a long way to carry what he did to you.
— Cheetah
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