As I trudged through the front door, exhausted from a 12-hour shift at the hospital, I was greeted by chaos. My husband, Garrett, lounged on the couch, beer in hand, while our kids, Zach and Penny, ran wild around him.
I bit back a sarcastic remark and asked if he’d fed the kids dinner. He shrugged, saying they’d had some chips earlier. I was taken aback by his lack of effort, but this had become our new normal.
The next day, we were supposed to leave for a family vacation, but our plans were derailed when the kids fell ill. Garrett decided to go on the trip alone, leaving me to care for our sick children.
This was the final straw. I’d had enough of his selfishness and lack of appreciation for everything I did for our family. While Garrett was away, I took matters into my own hands and sold all of his prized possessions, using the money to take the kids on a surprise vacation.
When Garrett found out what I’d done, he was furious. But I stood my ground, telling him that I was done with his selfishness and that I wanted a divorce.
The road ahead would be tough, but I felt a sense of liberation wash over me. I realized that I deserved better and that it was time for me to take control of my life.
As I looked out at the ocean, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. I knew that I had made the right decision, not just for myself, but for my children as well. We deserved to be happy, and I was determined to make that happen.
I thought about all the times I’d put Garrett’s needs before my own, all the times I’d sacrificed my own happiness for the sake of our family. But I realized that I couldn’t keep living like that. I deserved to be happy, and I was willing to fight for it.
The sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore was soothing, and I felt my worries slowly drifting away. I knew that I still had a long way to go, but I was ready for the challenge. I was ready to take back control of my life and make myself happy.
