He left me with 6 kids and 2 dogs—and asked if I needed anything

I wrote this hours ago while sitting in the car. I didn’t plan on sharing it, but it’s been sitting heavy on me all day—and I figured someone here might understand….

I’m sitting in the car. Six kids are inside the house, and 5 of them aren’t even mine. Additionally there are two dogs. The noise is unbearable. The mess is growing. It feels like my nervous system is on FIRE. And the man who invited them all here? He’s gone. Again.

I texted him to ask when he would be returning. It had already been 3 hours since he left the house. He called me 30 minutes later to explain that he was on the way back from one of his jobs, but that he would be going right back out to do more work.

No mention of when the kids were leaving. No plan. No communication. No relief.

And then he had the nerve to ask “Do you need anything?”

I held the phone in silence.
Not because I didn’t have words.
But because I couldn’t believe he really asked me that.
After leaving me with six kids.
After knowing damn well I was alone in that house with chaos I didn’t create. Again.

I just sat there with my phone in my hand, my heart racing. My silence wasn’t hesitation, it was me trying to wrap my head around the audacity.

He hung up.

Then called back.
Once.
Twice.
Before I finally answered.

He asked me again if I needed anything. I responded: “I want you to listen to how that sounds? Do I need anything?” Then I said what I meant: “I need you to come supervise these kids you invited over to this house.”

I didn’t raise my voice.
I didn’t curse.
I didn’t even go into detail– because I shouldn’t have to.

I said what I meant.

My boyfriend’s question–”Do I need anything?” – pissed me off.

Because yes, I needed something.
I needed to not be the one who always holds it down.
I needed to not be left to handle six children like I signed up to be a substitute mother.
I needed help.
I needed partnership.
I needed to not feel like a damn afterthought in a house I live in.

But instead, he asked a question that made it feel like I was a burden for needing support. Like he was doing me a favor just by asking.

It wasn’t concern– it was disconnection. It made me feel like my exhaustion didn’t count. Like everything I’d been doing in silence didn’t matter. And the worst part? I knew if I said “I’m fine” he would have taken that as a green light to stay gone. To stay disconnected. To believe, once again, that I’ll manage on my own.

Because I always do, right?

That’s what hurts the most. That he’s so used to me surviving in silence, he thought this was just another day I’d swallow it and keep going.

But this time, I didn’t.

This time, I told him what I needed. And in doing that, I saw just how much I’ve lowered the bar for what care should like.

I don’t want to have to constantly explain my exhaustion. I don’t want to spell out my needs like a checklist. I want to be loved in a way that notices…

Thanks for reading.

-Teyah