**Diary Entry**
I’ve been married for four years, and all this time, I’ve been the one supporting my husband.
I’m 32 now, married to a man who’s become nothing but a burden. My name is Emily, and I live in Manchester, where I’ve been the sole breadwinner for our household. My husband, Richard, is eight years older than me, and I’m exhausted from silently enduring his irresponsibility. Today, I finally snapped and asked him for money—only to be met with anger and threats of leaving. My life feels like a never-ending drama, and I don’t know how much longer I can take it.
Four years of marriage, and not once have I felt protected or loved. Richard was married before and has a daughter from his first wife. When his previous marriage fell apart, he moved back in with his parents. Back when we were dating, he lied, saying he was staying with a mate, and I foolishly believed love would smooth things over. He works as a sales manager for a big company—stressful, he claims—but all I see are his outbursts, his temper, and the way he dumps his frustration on me. I’ve never had his support, and his constant mood swings have worn me down.
When life got tough and I needed him most, Richard would pack his bags and bolt to his mum’s. Once, I couldn’t stand the silence and begged him to come back after a week. We live in my flat—the one I bought before we married—and I pay every bill, cover every grocery run. He’s never once shown me his pay. Instead, he swears he’s saving for our “dream home” in the Lake District, where we’ll supposedly live happily ever after. But with each passing day, I doubt I’ll ever see it. His promises feel hollow, and I’m tired of fairy tales.
Last winter, the heating bills shot up, and I finally asked Richard to contribute. He promised he would—but a month passed, and nothing. I hit my limit. I can’t keep supporting a grown man who mooches off me. What if we have kids? Will they have to work just to feed their own father? It’s ridiculous! At the end of the month, I confronted him directly: “Are you going to help with rent or not?” Instead of an answer, he lashed out, called me ungrateful, and started packing his bags again, threatening to leave.
I don’t understand what I’ve done to deserve this. My heart aches from the pain and confusion. I can’t keep tolerating this injustice, yet every time he walks out and storms back, it chips away at me a little more. Four years I’ve carried this weight alone, but now I’m at my breaking point. How much longer before the strain of his indifference finally crushes me?
**Lesson learned:** Love shouldn’t mean losing yourself in someone else’s neglect.
