Summary

The author's life was profoundly impacted after her husband, whom she later discovered was metaphorically a "soap dish," did not return home one night, leading to a realization about societal standards and acceptance.

Abstract

The author recounts the dramatic shift in her life following her husband's unexpected absence, which ultimately led to a revelation about his true identity as a metaphorical "soap dish," a representation of societal undesirables. Their twelve-year marriage, fraught with unhappiness and lack of communication, was further complicated by her husband's inability to express his true self. After reporting him missing, a police officer's revelation forces the author to confront the reality of her husband's identity. The experience prompts a deep reflection on the societal pressures to conform to certain body types and the pain of living a lie. The author concludes with an open letter addressing critics and emphasizing the importance of acceptance, while also clarifying the satirical nature of her account to raise awareness about societal issues.

Opinions

The author acknowledges her own faults in the marriage and the role of societal pressures in shaping their relationship dynamics.
She expresses regret for not accepting her husband's true identity earlier and for the societal norms that forced him to hide it.
The author criticizes the fashion industry, television commercials, and societal standards for perpetuating unrealistic body image expectations.
She defends the authenticity of her story against accusations of seeking attention, emphasizing the real issue of people being unable to openly express their true selves.
The author uses satire to highlight the absurdity of societal prejudices and to advocate for a more accepting world.
She calls for readers to support her in raising awareness about the struggles faced by those who do not conform to conventional standards, implied to be a metaphor for broader social acceptance.

My Husband Didn’t Come Home One Night, And My Life Has Never Been the Same

I didn’t appreciate what I had until it was far too late

Some things aren’t meant to last forever (Konstantin Kopachinsky/Unsplash)

Josh and I had been unhappily married for twelve long years. Although it’s easy for me to demonize him, looking back I realize he was just as miserable as I was.

It wasn’t unusual for Josh to arrive home well past the time when the first streaks of daylight were beginning to illuminate the sky. I hated our house. I spent almost every evening crying uncontrollably as I waited for him to return home — and praying that he wouldn’t.

But one morning, he wasn’t home by the time I left for work. When I returned at the end of the day, he was still nowhere to be seen.

Dinnertime came and went. I should have been pleased that I no longer needed to make awkward attempts at conversation, but I couldn’t help but feel something terrible had happened.

The following morning, I went to the police station. The officer on duty was anything but understanding. He berated me with questions, to the point where I began to feel as if everything was my fault. Did we fight often? No, Josh hardly ever spoke. Did I nag him? More than I’d like to admit. Then, he asked for a photograph.

The police officer took one look and asked me to sit down. My hands began to tremble.

“Your husband,” he began hesitantly, “is a soap dish.”

In that instant, the entirety of our marriage flashed through my mind. Suddenly, everything made sense — and yet, I forced myself to question the reality that was quickly destroying my world.

I dug through my phone to review our wedding photos, our vacation to the Philippines, our Christmas in the bathroom section at Walmart. I had always found it odd how Josh’s mother was a bottle of toilet cleaner, but I had grown to accept the fact that I had married into a strange family.

Then, there was the time I caught him in the shower with my best friend. I screamed and threatened to leave him. But Josh just sat there, refusing to offer an explanation.

If Josh really was a soap dish, isn’t that exactly what he would have done?

As I sat there in the police station, I felt as if my entire world had been turned upside down. A stranger had pierced through the illusion I had spent twelve years building for myself, then abandoned me to pick up the pieces on my own.

I never did find out where my husband went. I never saw him again.

We live in a world where undesirables are forced to hide their true colors from everyone — even the people closest to them. The fashion industry, television commercials, and even cereal boxes make us ashamed for not being born with a certain body type.

I’m afraid to admit that if Josh looked me in the eye and confessed to being a soap dish, I would have flatly rejected him. And so, he chose the only path he knew how to take. But after twelve long years, the pain of living a lie had become unbearable.

In the time that has passed since Josh's disappearance, I’ve come to realize that a soap dish really isn’t any different from me or you. My only regret is not coming to this conclusion much, much earlier.

Josh, wherever you are, I want you to know that I love you. I miss you. And I accept you for who you are.

An open letter to everyone who has accused me of writing “pity porn”

Everything I have written is the honest truth. I would never fabricate a story like this just to get attention.

Josh was the man of my dreams — quiet, responsible, and always very, very clean. But then, something changed.

Go ahead and doubt my words. Every year, a shocking number of vulnerable girls fall in love with soap dishes, blissfully unaware that our society isn’t ready to accept these kinds of relationships. And even though I admire these girls for their idealism, the vast majority are destined for heartbreak.

The next time you read an article about the tragic fate of soap dish lovers (including this one) please make sure to give 50 claps and then subscribe to Medium using my referral link. The more we can raise awareness for this very important issue, the more traffic we can drive to my premium content.

Help me make our world a better place. Together, we can make a difference.

P.S. Would you buy me a coffee?

Final note: This is satire. My deepest apologies to everyone who left a concerned comment about the influx of girls who are falling in love with soap dishes.