Twenty-five years ago, my husband left for abroad The stress and worry gave me cancer.
Good day. I hesitated for a long time about whether to share my storyperhaps someone will read it and pause Maybe someone will see themselves in it, or another might avoid the mistakes I made.
I want to stay anonymous, but I need advice. Just another persons perspective.
I married for love
I was young when I fell for him. Barely eighteen, and he was twenty-two. It was a deep, pure love, full of trust. We thought we could face anything, that nothing mattered as long as we were together.
A year after our wedding, our son was born. I was happy then but not for long. Hard times came. Money was tightmy wages were meager, his barely covered the bills. We lived modestly, like many families, but my husband believed it wasnt enough.
*”Ill go abroad. They pay better there. Well live properly,”* he said one day.
I begged him not to go. Told him wed manage. Plenty of people get by together. He didnt listen.
I was left alone with a child.
Years passed.
I hoped hed return, but he didnt want to. Said hed earn more abroad. That just a little longer, and everything would be fine.
I pleaded with him to stay. There was work here nowI was earning too. My parents helped with the child. We couldve lived like everyone else But he wouldnt come back.
With one child, I wanted another, dreamed of a big family. But he said:
*”We cant afford it. Feeding ones hard enough as it is.”*
Yet he wouldnt even stay for that one. Hed visit for a week or two, then leave again.
I raised our son alonewent to parent meetings, sat up with him at night when he was ill. Never told my husband when the boy was sick, didnt want to bother him and he never asked.
Still, he didnt return
If hed made a fortune, if wed lived in luxury, I mightve said, *”It was worth it.”* But no. The money barely covered a normal life.
Yet there were loansfor the roof, the car, a new washing machine. Like everyone else.
I tried explaining, more than oncethat money wasnt everything, that our son needed his father, that I was exhausted but he wouldnt listen.
He lived there. We lived here.
Years rolled by.
Twenty-five years passed.
He came back.
But not with savingswith debts.
I covered some of them, selling my grandmothers house. He thanked me, said he loved me, that now wed finally be together.
But at what cost?
Too late
Youd think this was the calm after the storm. A husband home at last, not traveling, not drinking, not wandering Youd think Id be glad.
But suddenly, I realised I couldnt breathe in this house.
To keep the peace, I had to disappear.
I stopped seeing friendshe didnt like them. Said he had none, so I didnt need any either. He never forbade it, but his looks killed the urge to go out.
I stopped dressing nicely. He disliked bright clothes, makeup, high heels. Said they didnt suit a woman our age.
I stopped laughing, stopped telling jokes, stopped dreaming.
I existed. Worked. Cleaned. Cooked. Slept.
Once or twice a year, wed go on holiday. Just the two of us. No friends, no company. Because he didnt like anyone.
And I endured it. All of it.
But my body couldnt take it
The grind, the constant tension, the lonelinessit crushed me.
I fell ill.
The diagnosis was grim. Cancer.
My world collapsed in an instant.
I dont know how much time I have left.
But I know thisif I could turn back time, I wouldnt live like this.
Id never have let myself become a shadow.
Id never have let my husband dictate my life.
I wouldnt have sacrificed myself for the illusion of family.
Now its too late.
My sons grown, with his own life. My parents are old; I care for them as best I can.
And my husband He says he loves me. That hell stay by my side.
But my heart doesnt warm to it anymore.
I didnt live the way I wanted.
I was a faithful wife. Patient. Gentle. I waited for him. Loved him.
And he He just lived as he pleased.
If I could go back
Id choose myself.
Now, I can only say one thingdont live as I did.
Dont put yourself last.
Dont lose yourself for a love that doesnt make you happy.
Lifes too short for waiting.
