I told a number of my neighbors: “I’m leaving.” “I’m taking my kids and moving in with my sister.”

I wasn’t playing.

I have been married for eight agonizing years. The man I dated was not the man I married. It took me a while to figure that out. At first, I could not understand who he was and what had happened, nor what had happened to the great man I knew.

The simple man who had charmed me was now cold and stern. But I finally recognized the pattern.
My husband would be a great man if I didn’t mess with him. If I stayed out of his world and in my world, things would be fine.

This means that I did not interfere with his work or work day for any reason. I took care of our kids and our house and worked at this job. But twice a year I needed it for something. I mean, that’s what marriage is all about, right?

It doesn’t matter what you need. It could be housework or maintenance. It could be something with our kids or something bigger like preparing for a trip, a party, or surgery.

And all hell broke loose.

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One point of conflict turned into a month of tears. My tears. There was never a resolution.

I had to care about whatever we were arguing about. If it was something I needed help with I did it on my own. If it was about the kids, I would deal with it myself. It didn’t matter how big or small the thing I needed help with was…my husband made it clear that I was on my own.
After a month of cold and cruelty, I would usually pick myself up and move on. But this time, after eight years, my husband pushed me over the edge.

Not only did I discover his behavior pattern, but he did two things in the past year that were completely unbearable. He refused to pick me up from the hospital when our second son was born and to go to the hospital when our son had tubes put in his ears.

It was unnatural and I was done.

My husband ended up taking me from the hospital when our son was born only because our neighbors at home saw me crying when I got out of our car. My neighbor asked me why I was crying when I was going to give birth to a baby the next day, and I told her that he refused to take me.

Our neighbor got up to my husband and said: You will take your wife from the hospital. That was the only reason my husband did it.

Months later, I was in the hospital alone with our ten-month-old as tubes were being inserted. My husband’s aunt knew that I was afraid so she came to sit with me. My husband never felt guilty or worried about our child.

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Three weeks after I was at my sister’s house, the florist knocked on the door.

I said: If this is from my husband. “He’ll have to send the entire florist to get me back.” Unfortunately, I did not live up to those words.

My husband begged and asked me to come back. He said he was sorry and was going to marriage counseling. I gave up and went back to him. We started couples therapy and the second time our son needed tubes in his ears, he went with me to the hospital.

We had a relatively good six years where I felt like I owned the man I dated — but a cheetah doesn’t change its spots. I wanted to leave again.

This is why divorce can be so ugly. Because we stay in very unhealthy relationships and wait too long to leave.

My husband was still the person he had always been, but he had gotten older and more difficult. And he was angry that I would dare think about leaving him again.

Anger was building up inside him.

It’s ironic because it should have been building up inside me.

It did so temporarily. I was angry because we were having an unbearable relationship. I wasn’t ready to go back there. I have never dated a man who would treat me this way and I certainly would not have married a man who I thought would treat me this way.

However, I stayed in marriage counseling by myself when my husband refused to return.