At 19, pregnant despite being on birth control, I worked two jobs while my husband, jobless, joked I “baby trapped” him. Exhausted, I managed grocery store shifts and waitressing, while he played video games, leaving dishes and laundry undone. Rent loomed, our car needed tires, and I was sick every morning. His “jokes” stung, like when he spent $200 of my money on vapes, claiming he “deserved” it.
Our courthouse marriage unraveled as he shirked responsibilities. When our daughter, Reina, was born, he missed the delivery, later complaining about being tired. I realized I’d be a single mom, married or not. My boss and mom saw my struggle, urging me to leave him. At Reina’s first birthday, I asked him to move out. He did, and I felt lighter.
I juggled jobs until a better one came—supervising a cleaning business. Reina thrived in daycare. He later sought joint custody but abandoned supervised visits. Now 26, I manage the company, and Reina’s in kindergarten. Mateo, a kind man, fits gently into our lives, showing up for us both. I wasn’t the trap—I was the lifeboat. If you’re stuck, you’re not crazy. You deserve better. Start again.
