The Struggles of Being the "Perfect Wife"

Natasha had always strived to be the perfect wife for Lucifer. She cooked, cleaned, and kept the apartment in pristine condition. However, the one thing she hadn’t realized was that her dedication was slowly eroding her sense of self.

One Sunday morning, as Natasha prepared breakfast in the kitchen, she could hear the familiar sound of Lucifer entering, his voice groggy yet expecting.

“Good morning,” Lucifer greeted, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

Natasha smiled, but there was a tension in the air. She knew what was coming.

“What’s for breakfast?” he asked.

“Omelet with mushrooms and tomatoes,” Natasha replied, trying to keep things light.

But the lightness was fleeting.

“You really are the mistress of the house, aren’t you?” Lucifer's words cut through the calm. His tone, dripping with condescension, made Natasha’s stomach churn.

Before she could reply, Lucifer dropped the bomb. “Mom and Katherine are coming over for lunch. They’ll be here around one or two, and Katherine’s bringing the kids.”

Natasha’s heart sank. The thought of his chaotic relatives filling her home again made her chest tighten. The kids, especially, were a handful.

“Fine,” Natasha managed to mutter, “but I’ll have to go to the store for more food. There won’t be enough.”

“Don’t forget how much Mom loves your dishes,” Lucifer added, his attempt to calm her down falling flat.

The day unfolded with familiar tension. The apartment gleamed, but so did Natasha's anxiety. At 2 p.m., the doorbell rang, and the storm began.

Victoria’s Storm of Cr!t!cism

As Natasha answered the door, Victoria Demson, Lucifer’s mother, entered with her usual force. “Niku-sha!” she exclaimed, using Natasha’s less-than-endearing nickname. “How are you, dear?”

Behind her, Katherine and her twin children barreled through the door, ignoring the shoe rack and leaving a trail of dirt behind them.

“Kids, shoes!” Natasha shouted, but Victoria waved her off with a dismissive gesture. “Let them run around, dear. You know how it is with kids.”

Victoria’s words were like daggers to Natasha’s already frayed nerves. She watched as her pristine carpets became marred with dirt, a feeling of helplessness swelling in her chest.

“What’s for lunch?” Katherine asked, her tone overly enthusiastic. “Oh, casserole? Mom, remember the one I made last week? It was amazing!”

Victoria chimed in, clearly more interested in pointing out Natasha’s shortcomings than anything else. “You should learn from Katherine, Niku-sha. She has a true gift for cooking.”

The tension was palpable. Natasha’s hands clenched as she silently tried to hold it all together.

In the midst of the chaos, a loud crash echoed from the living room. The twins had knocked over a figurine Natasha had brought back from Italy.

“Lucifer, check what your nephews have done,” Natasha said, her voice tight with restraint.

Lucifer barely reacted. “Let them play, they’re just kids.”

“Exactly,” Victoria agreed. “Everything must be perfect with you, Natasha. A home should be full of life!”

But Natasha’s home wasn’t full of life—it was full of expectations, criticism, and demands. And Natasha had had enough.

The Breaking Point

As lunch went on, Victoria continued to dish out unsolicited advice, Katherine bragged about her culinary prowess, and the twins wreaked havoc. Natasha could hardly stomach another moment.

Then came the final straw. Victoria, with her second slice of cake, made an announcement that sent Natasha over the edge.

“Maybe we should gather here every Sunday,” Victoria suggested. “Your kitchen is so spacious, and you cook with soul. It’ll be a great tradition!”

Natasha’s heart clenched. She could feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on her. She had been nothing more than the family’s servant, fulfilling every demand, never voicing her own desires. But now, as the words left Victoria’s lips, Natasha realized something—she was done.

“I need rest,” Natasha said firmly. The room fell silent. “I’m not cooking next Sunday.”

The Ultimatum

Lucifer was stunned. His face reddened as he tried to recover. “Honey, let’s discuss this later.”

But Natasha’s resolve had already formed. She wasn’t going to be the free cook and maid anymore. “I’m tired of being everything for everyone. I need a break from it all.”

Victoria’s reaction was explosive. “Tired of what? Being a housewife?” she shouted. “What about the family? You can’t just abandon us like this!”

Natasha stood her ground, but Lucifer’s frustration grew. “We’ll talk later,” he muttered, defeated.

The family’s angry departure left Natasha alone with her thoughts. That evening, as she cleaned up the mess, Lucifer finally approached her, but Natasha wasn’t interested in his words anymore.

“Why did you create such a scene?” he asked, clearly upset.

“I just want to be heard,” Natasha replied softly. “I’m not a servant.”

The Breaking Point: A Final Decision

The next day, as Lucifer informed her that his mother and sister were coming over again, Natasha had made her decision. She wouldn’t be cooking. She wouldn’t be catering to their every whim anymore.

“I’m done,” Natasha said quietly. “I need peace, not this chaos.”

But as the doorbell rang at 2 p.m., Natasha locked herself in the bedroom. The sound of Lucifer struggling in the kitchen could be heard, but Natasha didn’t care anymore. She had made her choice.

Victoria and Katherine arrived, but when Natasha didn’t emerge from the bedroom, Victoria lost it. “How could you do this to us?” she screamed.

Lucifer, feeling torn, tried to regain control, but Natasha was resolute. She wasn’t going to be part of their endless cycle of demands anymore. “I’m leaving,” Natasha said, packing her suitcase in front of a stunned Lucifer. “I can’t do this anymore.”

The room went cold as Natasha walked out of the apartment for good. She had found refuge at Anne’s place, her friend who had always supported her. For the first time in years, Natasha felt free.

A New Beginning

Weeks later, Natasha found herself in a new place, a small but cozy apartment of her own. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. The relief she felt was indescribable.

Lucifer sent her messages, begging her to return. But Natasha didn’t respond. She had taken control of her life.

One day, while at work, her boss noticed the change. “You look different,” he remarked. “As if something important has left you.”

Natasha smiled, a sense of peace washing over her. “That’s exactly it. I’ve finally started living for myself.”

Conclusion: Taking Control of Your Life

Natasha’s story is one of empowerment—a reminder that sometimes, the best way to regain control over your life is to set boundaries and prioritize your own needs. It’s not always easy, and it can come with sacrifice, but in the end, Natasha learned that peace and happiness come when we live for ourselves—not for others' expectations.

Natasha’s journey might resonate with many who feel overwhelmed by the demands of family, work, and societal expectations. It’s time to ask yourself: Are you living for yourself, or just fulfilling others' needs?