With the arrival of our two children, my husband changed. And he mentioned something one day that made a big difference in my life.
Having the children changed the way I looked. I stopped taking care of myself and put away nice clothes since I didn’t have the time or energy.
I believed that my husband would be there for me. However, he told me one day:
— I’m embarrassed to present you to my coworkers. Their spouses resemble models. and I appear to be with an elderly relative.
He was involved with one of his coworkers, which I later discovered by accident. The final straw was that. and I made the decision to act at that point.
He had established the roles from the beginning: me at home, him at work. He wanted me to be in charge of keeping the house comfortable.
He depicted the perfect everyday life: the kids grinning, the apartment immaculate, me welcoming him in the evening with a delicious lunch. He talked about it with such assurance that I started to think it was the only option.
Following our marriage, I gave the house my whole attention. I diligently pressed his clothing, cleaned every stain to perfection, and prepared extravagant meals. He boasted to his buddies about me and gave me praise.
But with the birth of our son, everything was different. My days turned into a series of broken nights, laundry, and bottles. I tried everything, but there was always a problem. I sensed that he was no longer content.
He didn’t say anything, but his expression was clear. Then, in an attempt to make everything flawless, I intensified my efforts and slept for only a few hours each night.
A second child was what he desired. “A real family has at least two children,” he said, and I paused, fearing that I might lose it. I caved.
Our daughter was delicate and demanding from birth. I was unable to recall my last calm meal or full night’s sleep. I disappeared. I no longer wear the same clothes. I was too weak and too busy to care for myself.
— I’m embarrassed to present you to my coworkers. Their spouses are stunning. and I appear to be with an elderly relative.
I was afraid I would choke. I received that in exchange for everything I had given and everything I had sacrificed for our family.
I had a lot of thoughts that evening. I had spent years attempting to live up to his expectations, gradually losing sight of my own self.
However, one thing became evident that evening: my kids need a strong, contented mother who doesn’t let her own shadow overshadow her.
I therefore made the decision to change. I gradually started to rediscover who I was: I learned to smile again, sleep soundly, and look pleasantly at my reflection in spite of exhaustion and dark circles. And you know what? I had lost my fear.
I wasn’t simply abandoning my spouse. I was escaping a way of living that stifled me under the pretext of a “perfect family.”
This is not the end of my story. Now it starts. And I don’t ask, “What would you do in my place?” this time.
This is what I tell you:
Never allow anyone to determine your value. Love yourself. Have the courage to begin again. And you’ll never regret your decision.
