25 Years Ago, He Left for Abroad… The Stress and Anxiety Gave Me Cancer

Twenty-five years ago, my husband left for abroad Stress and worry gave me cancer.

Good day. Ive hesitated for a long time whether to share my story, but perhaps someone will read it and reflect Maybe someone will recognize themselves in it, or another might avoid the mistakes I made.

I wish to remain anonymous, but I need advicejust another perspective.

I married for love
I was young when I fell for him. I was barely 18, and he was 22. It was a deep, pure love, full of trust. We believed we could overcome anythingthat nothing was too hard if we faced it together.

A year after our wedding, our son was born. I was happy then but not for long. Difficult times followed. Money was tightmy wages were meagre, and his salary barely covered the bills. We lived modestly, like many families, but my husband believed it wasnt enough.

*”Ill go abroad. The pay is better therewell live well,”* he said one day.

I begged him not to go. I told him wed manage. Many couples endure hardships together. He wouldnt listen.

I was left alone with our child.

Years passed.

I hoped hed return, but he refused. He 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 our son. We could have lived like anyone else But he wouldnt come back.

With one child, I longed for anotherI dreamed of a big familybut he said,

*”We dont have the money. Feeding one is hard enough.”*

Yet even with just one, he wouldnt stay. Hed visit for a week or two, then leave again.

I raised our son aloneattended parents’ evenings, sat by his bedside when he was ill. I never told my husband when the boy was sickI didnt want to trouble him and he never asked.

Still, he didnt return
If hed made a fortune, if wed lived in luxury, I might have said, *”It was worth it.”* But he didnt. We barely scraped by.

There were loansfor the roof, the car, the washing machine. Just like everyone else.

Time and again, I tried to explainmoney wasnt everything, our son needed his father, I was exhausted But he wouldnt listen.

He lived there. We lived here.

Years slipped away.

Twenty-five years passed.

He came back.

But not with savingswith debts.

I covered some, selling my grandmothers house. He thanked me, said he loved me, that wed finally be together.

But at what cost?

Too late
Youd think this was the peaceful haven Id waited for. My husband home at lastno more travel, no drinking, no wandering. Youd think Id be happy.

Yet suddenly, I realised I couldnt breathe in my own home.

To keep the peace, I had to erase myself.

I stopped seeing friendshe disliked them. Said since he had none, I didnt need any either. He never forbade it, but his looks killed any desire to go.

I stopped dressing well. He hated bright clothes, makeup, heels. Said they werent fitting for a woman our age.

I stopped laughing, stopped telling jokes, stopped dreaming.

I existed. Worked. Tidied. Cooked. Slept.

Once or twice a year, wed go on holiday. Just usno friends, no company. Because he disliked everything.

And I endured it all. Everything.

But my body couldnt take it
The grind, the constant tension, the loneliness 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 this way again.

Id never have let myself become a shadow.
Id never have let my husband dictate my life.
Id never have sacrificed myself for the illusion of family.