Greetings. I’ve been pondering whether to share my story, but perhaps someone might read it and reflect… Maybe some will recognize themselves, and others may avoid making the mistakes I did.
I’d prefer to remain anonymous, but I need some advice. Just an outside perspective.
I got married for love…
I was young when I fell in love with him. At just 18, while he was 22, it was a grand, pure love without a hint of doubt. We believed we could tackle any hardship and that nothing could frighten us if we stayed together.
A year after our wedding, our son was born. At the time, I was happy… but it didn’t last as long as I’d hoped. Tough times arrived. Money was tight—my maternity pay was meager, and his salary barely covered the bills. We lived modestly, much like many families, but my husband thought it wasn’t enough.
“I’ll go abroad. They pay more there, and we’ll have a better life,” he said one day.
I begged him not to go. I promised we’d manage. Many struggled but remained united, supporting each other. He wouldn’t listen.
So, I was left alone with our child.
Years went by.
I held on to the hope that he would return, but he didn’t want to. He insisted he’d earn more overseas and that just a little longer, and everything would be fine.
I begged him to stay. I had a job now; I was earning too. My parents helped with our son. We could live like everyone else… But he refused to come back.
We had only one child though I dreamed of a big family. He said, “We can’t afford it. We’re barely feeding the one we have.”
Even with one, he didn’t want to be by our side. He’d visit for a week or two and then leave again.
I raised our son alone, attended parent meetings, and cared for him through night-time illnesses. I never shared these details with my husband to avoid worrying him… and he never asked.
He never returned…
Had he been earning a fortune, if we were living in luxury, I might have said, “It was worth it.” But no. We only had enough to live decently. We still had loans—one for the roof, another for the car, a new washing machine. Just like everyone else.
I frequently tried to explain that money wasn’t the most important thing, that our son needed a father and that I was exhausted… but he remained deaf to my pleas.
He lived there. We lived here.
Years rolled by.
Twenty-five years slipped away.
He came back.
But instead of savings, he returned with debts.
I paid off part of his debt by selling my grandmother’s house. He thanked me and said he loved me and that now we could finally be together.
But at what cost?
Too late…
It seemed like peace had finally arrived. He was home, not leaving, not drinking, not straying… I should have felt joy.
Yet suddenly, I realized there was no air for me in that house.
To maintain peace, I had to relinquish myself.
I stopped meeting friends—he disliked them. He’d say he had no friends and thus didn’t need them. He never forbade it, but his looks discouraged me from going out.
I stopped wearing nice clothes. He wasn’t fond of bright outfits, makeup, or heels. Said such things didn’t suit a woman our age.
I stopped laughing, sharing funny stories, dreaming.
I existed. Worked. Cleaned. Cooked. Slept.
Once or twice a year, we went on a holiday. Naturally, just the two of us. No friends, no company. Because he liked no one.
And I endured it all. Everything.
But my body couldn’t bear it…
A life of endless routine, tension, and loneliness broke me.
I fell ill.
The diagnosis was terrifying. Cancer.
My world collapsed in a single day.
I’m unsure how much time I have.
But I know this: if I could turn back time, I wouldn’t live like that.
I wouldn’t have allowed myself to become a shadow.
I wouldn’t have let a man dictate my life.
I wouldn’t sacrifice myself for the illusion of a family.
Now it’s too late.
My son grew up, living his own life. My parents are elderly; I take care of them as best I can.
And my husband… He says he loves me. That he will be here for me.
But that no longer comforts me.
I lived my life not the way I wanted.
I was a faithful wife. Patient. Gentle. I waited for him. Loved him.
And he… Just lived his life as he wished.
If I could go back…
I’d choose myself.
But now there’s only one thing I can say: don’t live as I did.
Don’t put yourself last.
Don’t lose who you are for relationships that don’t bring you happiness.
Life is too short to just wait.
