I used to believe that marriage was about love, trust, and building a life together. I was wrong. For me, marriage turned into a battlefield—a slow, suffocating nightmare I barely escaped from. I was married for just one year, but the damage my ex-wife caused still lingers.
Sophia—let’s call her that—was the one who insisted on the divorce. But now, she refuses to let me move on.
Before our wedding, everything seemed fine. We lived in my apartment, shared our daily lives without any major drama, and I truly believed I had found a partner. But looking back, I was blind. The warning signs were there from the beginning.
Sophia had an almost unnatural attachment to her mother. She would call her several times a day, asking for advice on every single thing. What to cook. What to wear. What to say to me. At first, I thought it was just a strong mother-daughter bond. But after the wedding, it became clear—I wasn’t her husband. I was an outsider in a relationship where her real partner was her mother.
A Husband Who Didn’t Matter
A few months after the wedding, Sophia came to me with a decision she had already made:
– We need to move in with my parents. It makes the most sense. Mom will help with the cooking, cleaning, and when we have kids, she’ll be there to take care of them.
I was stunned. What kind of grown woman dreams of moving back with her parents right after getting married? I tried to reason with her, but it was useless. She wasn’t asking—she was telling me.
I should have stood my ground. Instead, I caved in. And that was the beginning of my downfall.
The moment we moved into her parents’ house, I became invisible. Sophia would come home from work and go straight to her mother. They’d spend hours in the kitchen, gossiping, whispering, and making decisions without me. I would go to bed alone, night after night.
Whenever I suggested going out, just the two of us, she would scoff:
– My parents would feel left out. And anyway, why waste money?
Then she dropped the next bombshell—she wanted me to sell my apartment.
– We don’t need it anymore. We live here now. That money could go toward our future.
I refused. That was the last piece of my independence, and I wasn’t about to give it up. That’s when her mother stepped in, full force.
– Do you think you’re rich or something? – she snapped. – You don’t even make that much, and now you’re rejecting a chance to contribute to this family?!
– I make just as much as your daughter! – I shot back.
– And when she gets pregnant? Who’s going to provide then? You?!
That night, Sophia exploded, accusing me of disrespecting her mother, of being selfish, of not thinking about “our future.” But what future? There was no “us.” There was only her and her mother, and I was just an intruder in their world.
The Divorce Was Just the Beginning
I had had enough. I packed my bags and left. Moved back to my apartment and waited for the inevitable storm.
A week later, she finally messaged me:
“Fine. I’m giving you the divorce.”
I felt nothing but relief. At least there were no kids involved. At least I could finally breathe again.
But I was wrong. The nightmare wasn’t over.
Her mother went on a campaign to destroy my reputation. She spread lies to everyone we knew, saying I had cheated, saying I had used her daughter and then abandoned her.
One morning, I walked outside to find my car vandalized—profanities scratched into the paint. I knew exactly who was behind it.
And then Sophia came back.
At first, she pretended to be remorseful, begging me to come back. But when I refused, her true colors showed.
She started stalking me. Calling me from blocked numbers. Sending messages, swinging between threats and pleas. She harassed my new girlfriend, showing up at her workplace to “warn” her about me. And then, the worst—someone smashed my car’s windshield.
I had no choice but to go to the police. But even that didn’t stop her.
A Final Attempt to Escape
Now, I’m engaged to a woman who actually respects me. My fiancée doesn’t let Sophia’s insanity get to her, but if my ex keeps pushing, she might regret it.
One night, Sophia crossed the line. She confronted my fiancée in front of my apartment. A screaming match turned into a physical fight. The neighbors called the police, and Sophia tried to play the victim, but everyone had seen what happened. Her lies fell apart.
But even that wasn’t enough to make her stop. Weeks later, my car was vandalized again. Then she started harassing my parents, showing up at their house, demanding that they “talk sense into me.” My father threw her out before she could even finish her sentence.
Now, my fiancée and I are planning to move to a different city. I just want this to end.
We’re getting married soon, and I’m going to be a father. I refuse to let my unhinged ex-wife ruin my future.
I changed my number. Blocked every possible way she could reach me.
This time, it’s really over.
At least, I pray that it is.”
