Hello. I’ve long been hesitant to share my story, but maybe someone will read it and think twice… Perhaps someone will see themselves in it, or someone will avoid the mistakes I made.
I’d like to remain anonymous, but I need advice. Just an outsider’s perspective.
I married for love…
I was young when I fell for him. I was just 18, and he was 22. It was a profound, pure love, untainted by doubts. We thought we could overcome any obstacle and feared nothing as long as we were together.
A year after our wedding, we welcomed a son. At that time, I was truly happy… but it didn’t last. Tough times set in. Money was tight, my maternity benefits were meager, and his salary barely covered the bills. We lived modestly, like many families, but my husband decided it wasn’t enough.
“I’m going to move to another country,” he said one day. “They pay better there, and we can live a better life.”
I begged him not to leave. I told him we could manage. That many go through tough times, but they stick together and support each other. He didn’t listen.
So, I was left alone with our child.
Years passed.
I kept hoping he would come back, but he didn’t want to. He said he’d earn more abroad. That just a bit longer and everything would be fine.
I pleaded, urged him to stay. There was work here, too, and I was earning as well. My parents helped with the child. We could have lived like everyone else… But he refused to return.
We were left with one child. I longed for a bigger family, but he said, “We can’t afford it. We can barely provide for one.”
But even with one, he didn’t want to be around. He would come home for a week or two and then leave again.
I raised our son on my own, attended school meetings, stayed up with him when he was sick. I never told my husband when our child was unwell; I didn’t want to worry him… and he never asked.
He never returned…
If he had made a fortune, if we had lived in luxury, I might have said, “It was worth it.” But we didn’t. We had just enough for a decent living.
There were still loans to pay—be it for the roof, a car, or a new washing machine. Just like everyone else.
I tried many times to explain to him that money isn’t everything, that our son needs a father, and that I was tired… but he wouldn’t listen.
He lived there. We lived here.
Years rolled by.
Twenty-five years passed.
He came back.
But not with savings, with debts.
I covered part of his debts by selling my grandmother’s house. He thanked me, saying he loves me, and that now we could finally be together.
But at what cost?
Too late…
On the surface, everything seemed perfect. My husband was home, he didn’t drink, he didn’t stray… I should have been happy.
But I suddenly realized I couldn’t breathe in our home.
To keep the peace, I had to give up so much of myself.
I stopped meeting friends — he didn’t like them. He said he didn’t have friends, so I didn’t need them. He didn’t forbid it, but his looks discouraged me from going out.
I stopped wearing nice clothes. He wasn’t fond of bright outfits, makeup, or high heels. He said they didn’t suit a woman of our age.
I no longer laughed, shared funny stories, or dreamt.
I lived. I worked. I cleaned. I cooked. I slept.
Once or twice a year, we’d go on holiday. Of course, just the two of us. No friends, no company. Because he didn’t like anyone.
And I endured. Everything.
But my body couldn’t take it anymore…
This endless routine, tension, solitude broke me.
I fell ill.
It was a dire diagnosis. Cancer.
My world shattered in a day.
I don’t know how much time I have left.
But I know one thing: If I could turn back time, I wouldn’t live this way.
I would never allow myself to become a shadow.
I wouldn’t let a man dictate my life.
I wouldn’t give up myself for the illusion of a family.
Now it’s too late.
My son is grown, with his own life. My parents are elderly, and I care for them as much as I can.
And my husband… He says he loves me. That he’ll stay by my side.
But that doesn’t warm me anymore.
I lived my life not as I wanted.
I was a faithful wife. Patient. Gentle. I waited for him. Loved him.
And he… He just lived as he wanted.
If I could go back in time…
I would choose myself.
But now I can say just one thing: don’t live like I did.
Don’t put yourself last.
Don’t lose yourself for a relationship that doesn’t bring you happiness.
Life is too short to wait.
