When Alexis’ parents forced her to marry Robert, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. Later, Alexis broke the one rule her husband gave her and entered the room he warned her about, unleashing secrets she wasn’t prepared for.
I couldn’t understand why my parents wanted me to get married before I found someone myself.
“Alexis,” my mother said, “Robert is a catch. He’s a wealthy man who will take care of you. You wouldn’t even have to work.”
I couldn’t refuse. My father had made it clear.
“You marry Robert, Alexis,” he said, puffing on his cigar. “Or you can figure out your own living arrangements.”
In a sense, Robert was my prince charming. Our family had a bakery, which was losing customers because we had no gluten-free options on the menu.
“We will continue to bake what we know,” my father insisted.
Our marriage was definitely an arranged one. Robert’s demeanor was cold, and he refused to let me get to know him properly. I don’t know how my father arranged our connection.
Our wedding was a spectacle of Robert’s affluence, nothing short of extravagant. Robert’s wedding planner had thought of everything.
My wedding dress was a custom piece that he commissioned for me. But even through our wedding planning, we barely spoke.
“I’m looking forward to being married,” he admitted one evening, a few days before the wedding.
“But I don’t know what I’m doing,” he added.
That was the closest Robert had gotten to letting me in.
Two days after our wedding, I moved into our new home.
“Come, I’ll show you around,” Robert said.
He took me around our home, a mansion boasting luxuries I’d never imagined before: sprawling golf courses, a shimmering swimming pool, and a fleet of staff at our beck and call.
“It’s beautiful,” I said when we got to the kitchen. “Everything is beautiful.”
“Now, Alexis, this house belongs to you too,” he declared with a hint of pride.
I smiled at the stranger standing in front of me. Maybe we were going to make something of our marriage.
“But one thing, Alexis,” he said. “There’s one rule. The attic. Never go in there.”
I nodded at Robert. I couldn’t fathom why I wouldn’t be allowed anywhere in the house. But I also recognized that I didn’t know my husband well enough yet. So, I had to obey.
A few days later, Robert went to a meeting, leaving me alone in our massive home.
Driven by curiosity stronger than any warning, I found myself ascending the stairs to the attic. My heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time.
A quick in and out, I thought to myself.
Pushing the door open, I was met with a sight that sent me to my knees, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know why I was crying. I didn’t know why I felt confusion and relief at the same time.
The attic, dimly lit, seemed to be a vault of my husband’s hidden memories. Childhood toys lay scattered, each carrying untold stories. Old postcards and photographs of Robert’s life before me. Among the relics were letters from a young boy to his father, a soldier away at war.
“How dare you come in here? Now, I have to change the locks in my own home because my wife does not respect my requests?”
Robert’s face turned red with rage.
“I just want to understand,” I stammered. “I just want to know you, Robert.”
Slowly, his rage dissolved, and he seemed to see me as a companion in his world, instead of the intruder he had made me out to be.
“Alexis,” he said, “Come, let’s sit.”
Robert led me to the living room.
“My father was a stern man. He was a soldier and he believed in keeping emotions locked away. These are the only things I have of a time when I felt loved,” he confessed.
My heart caught on his every word as his voice broke.
What followed was a revelation of his soul. Stories of a lonely childhood, of a boy yearning for his father’s approval, unfolded in our home.
In those vulnerable moments, I didn’t see the distant, cold man I had married but a boy who had never stopped seeking love and acceptance. He just didn’t know how to go about it.
In those few hours, things changed. Robert started letting me in. And now, years later, our home is filled with the cries and laughter of our daughter, April.
Through our daughter, Robert healed. He healed for himself, and for our daughter.
We’ve packed away everything from the attic, so it is no longer a shrine to Robert’s past but is now my little reading nook.
Sad news about Brad Pitt. The announcement was made by the great actor himself:
Actor Brad Pitt revealed in a recent interview that he suffers from prosopagnosia, a rare neurological disorder also known as “facial blindness.”
Dani Blum describes the disorder’s signs, causes, and remedies in an article for the New York Times.
Borna Bonakdarpour, a behavioral neurologist at Northwestern Medicine, claims that face blindness—not color blindness or general vision impairment—is the main symptom of prosopagnosia.
The National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke states that there is no connection between the illness and memory loss, vision problems, or learning impairments.
Blum continues, “It is not the same as forgetting or occasionally having trouble finding the correct word.
The severity of prosopagnosia will differ from person to person.
For instance, some people might have problems identifying a familiar face, such as that of a close friend or relative, while others might have trouble identifying their own reflection.
Additionally, some people might not be able to distinguish between faces and objects.
Notably, some data indicates that individuals with prosopagnosia may have chronic anxiety or depression due to the loneliness and fear that are frequently associated with the illness.
Blum notes that some people avoid contact with family members and other loved ones out of concern that they won’t be able to properly recognize or acknowledge them.
“Navigating basic social relationships with prosopagnosia can become difficult,” she says.
Pitt admitted that he has trouble recognizing people’s faces for years in a recent interview with GQ, despite never having gotten a formal prosopagnosia diagnosis.
In fact, Pitt claimed in a 2013 interview with Esquire that his difficulty recognizing people’s appearances was so great that it frequently made him want to isolate himself.
He explained, “That’s why I stay at home.
What is the condition’s cause?
People who are diagnosed with prosopagnosia often fall into one of two categories: either they are born with it or they acquire it.
However, estimations reveal that as many as one in every 50 people may struggle with some lifetime form of the disorder, and experts hypothesize that it may run in families.
According to Blum, research “suggests that congenital, or lifelong, prosopagnosia is less prevalent.”
According to Andrey Stojic, director of general neurology at the Cleveland Clinic, children born with the illness “don’t seem to have any visible structural abnormality” in the brain.
Notably, doctors don’t fully understand what causes congenital prosopagnosia because there aren’t any obvious brain lesions in persons who have it.
In contrast, people who develop prosopagnosia later in life may have brain abnormalities brought on by a trauma or head injury.
According to Bonakdarpour, individuals can also develop prosopagnosia while dealing with Alzheimer’s illness or following a stroke.
What therapies are available for prosopagnosia?
Prosopagnosia is now untreatable, according to Bonakdarpour. The problem can be treated, though.
People who have the syndrome frequently attempt to distinguish between people by focusing on physical characteristics like hair color, gait, or voice.
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