Twenty-five years ago, my husband went abroad The stress and worry gave me cancer.
Good day. Ive hesitated for a long time about sharing my storyperhaps someone will read it and reflect. Maybe someone will recognise themselves in it, or another will avoid the mistakes I made.
I wish to remain anonymous, but I need advice. Just a different perspective.
I married for love.
I was young when I fell for himbarely eighteen, and he was twenty-two. It was a deep, pure love, full of trust. We believed we could overcome anything as long as we were together.
A year after the wedding, our son was born. For a while, I was happy but it didnt last. Hard times came. Money was tightmy wages were meagre, his salary barely covered the bills. We lived simply, like many families, but my husband thought it wasnt enough.
“Ill go abroad. The pays better therewell live well,” he said one day.
I begged him not to go. Told him wed manage. Many couples face hardships together. He didnt listen.
I was left alone with our child.
Years passed.
I hoped hed return, but he refused. Said hed earn more overseas. That just a little longer, and everything would be fine.
I pleaded with him to stay. There was work hereI was earning too. My parents helped with our son. We couldve lived like anyone else But he wouldnt come back.
With one child, I longed for another, dreamed of a big family. But he said,
“Theres no money. Feeding one is hard enough.”
Yet even with one, he wouldnt stay by us. Hed visit for a week or two, then leave again.
I raised our son alonewent to parents evenings, sat up with him when he was ill. I never told my husband when the boy was sickdidnt want to worry him and he never asked.
Still, he didnt return.
If hed made a fortune, if wed lived in luxury, I mightve said, “It was worth it.” But no. The money barely covered a modest life.
Yet there were still loansfor the roof, the car, a new washing machine. Like everyone else.
Time and again, I tried to explainmoney wasnt everything, our son needed his father, I was exhausted He wouldnt listen.
He lived there. We lived here.
Years rolled by.
Twenty-five years passed.
He came back.
Not with savings, but with debt.
I sold my grandmothers cottage to cover some of it. He thanked me, said he loved me, that wed finally be together.
But at what cost?
Too late
Youd think this was the peaceful harbour Id waited for. My husband home at lastno travelling, no drinking, no wandering. Youd think Id be overjoyed.
But suddenly, I realised I couldnt breathe in this house.
To keep the peace, I had to erase myself.
I stopped seeing friendshe disliked them. Said since he had none, I didnt need any either. He never forbade it, but his looks killed any desire to go.
I stopped dressing nicely. He hated bright clothes, makeup, heels. Said they werent fitting for women our age.
I stopped laughing, telling jokes, dreaming.
I existed. Worked. Cleared up. Cooked. Slept.
Once or twice a year, wed go away. Just the two of us. No friends, no company. He didnt like crowds.
And I endured it all. Every bit.
But my body couldnt take it
The grind, the constant tension, the lonelinessit crushed me.
I fell ill.
The diagnosis was grim. Cancer.
My world collapsed in an instant.
I dont know how much time I have left.
But I know this: if I could turn back time, I wouldnt live this way again.
Id never have let myself become a shadow.
Id never have let my husband dictate my life.
I wouldnt have sacrificed myself for the illusion of family.
Now, its too late.
My sons grown, with his own life. My parents are old, and I care for them as best I can.
And my husband? He says he loves me. That hell stand by me.
But my heart doesnt stir anymore.
I didnt live the life I wanted.
I was a loyal wife. Patient. Gentle. I waited for him. Loved him.
And he? He just lived as he pleased.
If I could go back
Id choose myself.
Now, all I can say is thisdont live as I did.
Dont put yourself last.
Dont lose yourself in a relationship that doesnt make you happy.
Lifes too short for waiting.
