As a bank project manager, I juggled a demanding job, household chores, and a husband, Aiden, who grew increasingly dismissive. He ignored my struggles, demanded I cook after late nights, and blamed me for everything. One morning, sick and exhausted, I overheard him with another woman in our hall, planning a weekend getaway. That was my breaking point. I
changed the locks on my apartment, packed his belongings, and confronted him when he returned. “Take your stuff and go with your mistress,” I said, filing for divorce the next day. A month later, it was final. Now, through therapy, I’m healing, loving myself, and refusing disrespect—a new woman reborn.
