I never thought my life would turn out like this.
At 27 years old, with a sweet little toddler at home, it feels like the world has come crashing down on me — over and over again. When I married him, it felt like a dream come true. He came from a well-off family, while I grew up in a modest household. He was raised with soft-spoken love, his wishes always granted, while I was raised to be independent, to fight for everything I wanted. I thought our differences would complement each other.
At first, it did. The first two years of marriage were filled with small compromises, baby giggles, and big new hopes. My husband, who was still trying to build his own business, eventually decided to work as a contract employee in a government office. The salary was small, but my in-laws covered most of our household and child expenses. I didn’t mind. I even started applying for jobs myself, just as we had promised each other once the baby was older.
But then the cracks began to show.
He broke his promise to quit smoking. He became lazy, glued to his phone, complaining about waking up early and how “tiring” his job was. And worst of all: he started getting close to another woman — a widow from his office.
At first, I found out from WhatsApp notifications that kept buzzing. I wasn’t snooping. But the messages were far too flirty to pass as just “friends.” Selfies together, sitting side by side at lunch, hidden chats, invitations to meet outside. And what shocked me even more was how his colleagues seemed to cheer them on, as though nothing was wrong.
I was furious. We had a huge fight. The widow claimed “nothing was going on,” but it was clear she enjoyed the attention.
Then, as if life wanted to test me further, I was scammed out of hundreds of millions in a business deal gone bad. And on top of it, my child was hospitalized for days with a UTI. I felt completely defeated.
I confided in my in-laws, hoping for support. Instead, I was blamed — for being “too nosy” with my husband’s phone. They defended him, saying that’s just “his friendly nature.” But this wasn’t just friendly. It was intimate. Too much.
The only one who truly understood was my mother. She told me to stand my ground, and assured me that if I chose divorce, she would always welcome me back home. She even helped me pay part of my debts, while giving me endless prayers.
Months later, the widow married someone else. I felt… somewhat relieved. But reality wasn’t that simple. My husband still hid chats, still entertained those little flirty games with the same toxic circle at work.
One day, I finally snapped. I texted the widow directly. The fallout was explosive — the entire office found out, even her husband. They both came to my house, apologized. But the whispers and gossip at the office didn’t stop. Eventually, my husband was called in by his boss, and a few days later, he resigned.
He cried, begged for forgiveness, and promised to change. And me? My heart was already shattered. But I kept going — for my child. For myself.
Since then, I’ve been rebuilding, little by little. My mother’s prayers keep me going. While still looking for a steady job, I started trying anything to make my own money. I signed up as an affiliate marketer, and thankfully, it’s starting to pay off. At least now I have something to fall back on if things ever fall apart again.
My scars haven’t healed. But life doesn’t wait for us to heal before moving on, does it?
So I keep walking.
Slowly.
But surely.
Photo by Aleh Tsikhanau on Unsplash
