The first start of independence

About three years ago, something made me tell my husband that I wanted a divorce. I
actually didn't know at the time exactly why, I just felt that I had to get out, get
away or I would die,from.. something. I didn't know why I felt that way. As I
understood it, we had an almost perfect marriage. Ofc, my husband didn't have it to
easy, since he had to do all the cleaning and laundry, and I never managed to clean
the kitchen when I was supposed to. I struggled so hard all the time, to do it right,
to clean and cook and do the laundry as he said it should be done, but it was never
good enough and he alwas ran ahead of me and did it himself. I spent a lot of my time
hanging my head down in shame. When I hadn't been doing well enough, he had "talks"
with me, during wich he let me know that my behaviour was not acceptable, it wasn't
fair to let him do all the work when I knew how I should be doing and when. I was not
only almost constantly ashamed, I was also almost constantly afraid, scared, and I
couldnt really say why. What was I afraid for? I was never afraid that he would hit me
or even lay a hand on me. I was afraid that he would _talk_ . I was scared to death
about the talks, because even the times when I thought I knew what I was doing, he
could talk me down to pieces. I came out from those talks, realising that I had been
wrong all the time, realising that I was a horrible, egoistic person who only thought
of herself, and that it was my damn responisbility to better myself, for my kids and
familys sake. And I tried.