Twenty-five years ago, my husband went abroad The stress and worry gave me cancer.
Hey, Ive been thinking for a long time whether I should even share this story. Maybe someone will read it and see themselves in it. Maybe someone else will avoid the mistakes I made.
I want to stay anonymous, but I need another perspectivejust someone elses take on things.
I married for love.
I was young when I fell for him. Just 18, while he was 22. It was this big, pure love, full of trust. We thought we could handle anything as long as we were together.
A year after the wedding, our son was born. I was so happy but not for long. Things got tough. Money was tightmy wages were small, and his salary barely covered the bills. We lived simply, like most families, but he wasnt satisfied.
*”Im going abroad. The pays better therewell have a better life,”* he said one day.
I begged him not to go. Told him wed manage. Plenty of couples get through hard times together. He wouldnt listen.
I was left alone with our son.
Years passed.
I kept hoping hed come back, but he didnt want to. Said he could earn more abroad. That just a little longer, and everything would be fine.
I pleaded with him to stay. By then, I had a job too. My parents helped with our boy. We couldve made it work But he refused.
With just one child, I dreamed of a bigger family, but he said:
*”We cant afford it. Ones hard enough as it is.”*
But even with just one, he wouldnt stay. Hed visit for a week or two, then leave again.
I raised our son alonewent to school meetings, stayed up nights when he was sick. I never told my husband when the boy was illdidnt want to worry him and he never even asked.
Still, he didnt come home.
If hed made a fortune, if wed lived in luxury, maybe I could say, *”It was worth it.”* But no. The money barely kept us afloat.
Still, there were loansfor the roof, the car, a new washing machine. Same as everyone else.
I tried so many times to explainmoney wasnt everything, our son needed his dad, I was exhausted but he wouldnt listen.
He lived over there. We lived here.
Years rolled by.
Twenty-five years passed.
Then he came back.
But not with savingswith debt.
I sold my grandmas house to cover some of it. He thanked me, said he loved me, that wed finally be together.
But at what cost?
It was too late.
Youd think Id be relievedhe was home, no more travel, no drinking, no wandering. Youd think Id be happy.
But suddenly, I realised I couldnt breathe in my own home.
To keep the peace, I had to give up myself.
I stopped seeing friendshe didnt like them. Said he had no friends, so why should I? He never forbade it, but the way he looked at me killed any desire to go out.
I stopped dressing up. He hated bright clothes, makeup, heels. Said women *our age* shouldnt bother.
I stopped laughing, telling jokes, dreaming.
I existed. Worked. Cleaned. Cooked. Slept.
Once or twice a year, wed go on holiday. Just us two. No friends, no company. Because he didnt like anyone.
And I put up with it. All of it.
But my body couldnt take it.
The routine, the constant tension, the lonelinessit crushed me.
I got sick.
The diagnosis was brutal. Cancer.
My world fell apart in an instant.
I dont know how much time I have left.
But I know thisif I could go back, I wouldnt live like this.
Id never have let myself disappear.
Never let him dictate my life.
Never have sacrificed myself for the illusion of family.
Now its too late.
Our sons grown, living his own life. My parents are oldI take care of them as best I can.
And my husband? He says he loves me. That hell be here.
But it doesnt warm my heart anymore.
I didnt live the way I wanted.
I was a faithful wife. Patient. Gentle. I waited. I loved.
And him? He just lived however suited him.
If I could go back
Id choose myself.
Now, the only thing I can say isdont live like I did.
Dont put yourself last.
Dont lose yourself for a relationship that doesnt make you happy.
Lifes too short to wait.
