Let’s get real for a moment: I’m not a terrible person, but I’m starting to feel like I’m not with the right partner anymore. My love for you, Mark, began to fizzle out when you decided to go back to school. You promised that a bigger paycheck and a dazzling future awaited us, and so we agreed that you’d juggle full-time work and classes while I stayed home with our little ones. Our daughter was just a toddler, and our son was barely out of the baby stage. It was me who held them when they were sick, who rocked them to sleep during those endless nights, and who played with them, taught them, and looked after their every need.
Through those years, I grew more independent. I learned how to manage the household and raise our children without your input. I became self-reliant, and honestly, I got pretty good at it. At first, I didn’t mind. I believed your claims that it would all pay off soon. But now, years later, here I am in a cramped apartment, and our finances are nearly unchanged from before you went back to school. The only thing that has changed is that I’m now contributing to our bank account, too. Somehow, I found ways to earn money on top of raising our family solo. Thank goodness for that, or who knows where we would be?
But here we are. My time as a solo parent has left me feeling like a solitary figure sharing a bed with you. I get frustrated when you try to weigh in on parenting choices because all I can think is, “You don’t know what it’s like. You chased a dream while I was left stranded on this debt-filled island.” The truth is, I don’t need you anymore. I could easily walk away, but…
I can’t do that to our kids. As a child of divorce, I know the pain it brings. I remember lying awake wondering if it was something I did, and Father’s Day events were a nightmare. Watching my mom struggle as a single parent, sacrificing her health to keep food on the table for us — those memories still haunt me. I won’t put my children through that. They don’t see the struggles we face or hear the arguments. They shouldn’t suffer for the choices we made when we were once a happy couple. I want them to have two parents who love each other, even if it’s complicated. I want them to experience a family dynamic that I never had.
So, from today onward, I’m committed to forgiving both of us for our shortcomings and mistakes. I’ll try to view you, Mark, with fresh eyes that focus on the future rather than the past. I’ll hold on to hope that we can mend this. I made vows in front of God and family, and I’ll honor them — not for myself, but for our kids. I want them to remain blissfully unaware of how close I came to leaving, simply because I love them too much to let them suffer because of our choices.
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In summary, while the thought of leaving has crossed my mind, the love I have for my children keeps me anchored. I’ll strive to rebuild and nurture the family we have, despite the challenges we face.