She was 20, but wanted a husband.
Ready to start life.
She got married to a man that by all accounts wasn’t bad; but he wasn’t good for me.
Long story short, she was married to a loser. He didn’t necessarily do anything wrong, he just didn’t do anything at all.
Now, she was not a “typical woman,” if there was even such a thing.
She loved herself. Sure, there were things she wanted to improve; but she didn’t have a problem with her age, or intelligence, or what her body looked like, or her personality. Those things that seemed to stereotypically plague women just didn’t bother her for whatever reason.
She had a career. She made more than enough money on her own to live comfortably. And she knew how to use power tools; fix her own car; as well as google anything else that needed to be done.
She said what she meant, and expected others to do the same; none of the passive-aggressive nonsense.
But she was also stubborn as a mule, and marriages are supposed to last; so even though she was the primary breadwinner, and did most of the things around the house, and raised her kids mostly on her own, she still spent 13 years in that worthless marriage.
At the end of the day, her husband felt like she didn’t need him, because she was very capable.
But he was wrong.
She needed support. She needed a partner, a friend. Even someone who would see how hard she was working to just keep her head above water. She couldn’t manage everything on my own.
For some perspective at how emotionally isolated she was, she struggled with infertility for three years; she had to take tons of medications & shots that made her sick, tired, have hot flashes, body aches, and migraines for those years. Not to mention the emotional drain of every month without fail, seeing a single pink line on that damn stick.
She was very open with her struggles, because she thought it helped other people too.
Somehow, her husband wasn’t even aware this was a thing that she needed support with.
He had no idea.
And it’s not because she didn’t tell him; or directly ask him. He was just that thick and lost. He was a five year old trapped as an adult; lacking the ability to give support in that way.
And once she had kids, he was actually more of a burden than a help. She spent most of her time walking on eggshells; trying to balance being exhausted from a high-demand job; making dinner; and praying the kids (who were all-around good kids) didn’t do anything to “poke the bear” while her husband played games on his phone and mostly ignored them.
She spent more time trying to keep them from upsetting him than anything else.
When she finally asked him to please leave; everything improved immediately.
She could breathe again. She was free of so much dead weight. And she was so, so happy to just not-have-him around. It was so much better, she never looked back, and she was okay on her own. Sure, she crawled in to bed every night; feeling ready to collapse at the end of the day.
Kids are demanding, after all.
But she was free. And she was happy.
Ready to start again.
She was 40, but wanted a husband.