There I was, the other morning, staring blankly into our pantry. I wasn’t really focused on what was in there; instead, I was attempting to escape my emotions—again. I have a knack for burying feelings that feel too heavy to handle. Many of us do this because we often feel uncomfortable and don’t quite know how to deal with those emotions, so we just shove them aside. Survival mode, activated.
But that day, I hit a wall. My marriage had been crumbling for years, and I could no longer pretend otherwise. It felt like a soda bottle that had been shaken up for far too long. I knew that when I finally let the cap off, the pressure would explode, and I would be left to deal with the mess. I was done with the pressure.
So, I made the choice to confront my feelings head-on. I was seeking genuine strength—the kind that resonates deeply, even if it carries with it sadness and heartache. Ignoring the root of my struggles wasn’t an option anymore, no matter how raw those feelings might be. I had to acknowledge the chaos and start sorting it out. No more burying the thoughts I had been lugging around for years. It was time to let them in, and surprisingly, that felt liberating.
That night, after a few days of walking on eggshells around each other, my husband, Jake, turned to me and said, “I think I should move out. It’s clear we both need to find happiness.” A whirlwind of emotions hit me all at once—fear, relief, joy, and a newfound strength. It was perplexing to experience all of that simultaneously, but I didn’t fight it; I was too exhausted to hold everything in.
I sat with those emotions that night. The next morning, I faced them squarely, and I haven’t looked back since. I let all those bottled-up feelings rise to the surface. Denial was no longer an option. We had drifted apart—our connection faded after we stopped prioritizing each other, stopped sharing intimacy, and stopped being each other’s biggest supporters. His affair and the ensuing promises to try and fix things only added to the turmoil.
Deep down, I always wished I had been the one to say, “We can’t keep going like this; one of us needs to leave.” But it took him to say the words that I was too afraid to utter. Perhaps my actions had pushed him to make that choice, as I clearly wanted some distance from our relationship.
Living like roommates can only last so long before you yearn for the passion and love that once defined your partnership. You can only hear your children ask if you still love each other a couple of times before you realize that your discontent isn’t just your burden—it’s theirs too.
When you’re unhappy, that negativity seeps into every corner of your home, affecting everyone. Because he voiced what I couldn’t, I confronted a new truth: I had been too scared to express my feelings, thinking they weren’t valid enough to warrant a separation. I thought about how I should just tough it out and stay.
No matter what your circumstances are, if you feel that you need to exit your marriage, don’t hesitate. Walk away if you sense that it’s time. Staying together for the sake of kids, friends, or family isn’t the answer. It doesn’t matter if your marriage isn’t defined by infidelity, abuse, or lies; seeking divorce carries no shame. If you believe you could thrive without your partner, then it’s time to go.
Now, this isn’t to say that you should avoid putting in the effort. It’s a significant decision and it will undoubtedly be challenging. But when love has faded and you find yourself in misery, parting ways can be the healthiest option for both of you. It allows each person to explore new beginnings—with someone new or even rekindle the relationship you thought was lost.
For Jake and me, since that pivotal night, we have both felt a sense of relief. We agree that this separation is probably what we need right now, even if it means we won’t be together anymore. We deserve the love that once brought us joy, just not with each other.
I’m no longer that 27-year-old woman who wept with joy while saying, “You’re my beloved” in front of all our loved ones. That person has changed, and that’s perfectly fine. The man who whisked me away on our honeymoon and surprised me at every turn is different now too, and that’s okay.
We both feel stronger, perhaps because we finally have a plan. This doesn’t mean we don’t face difficult moments; it’s just that we understand each other’s feelings. We acknowledge that our previous relationship has come to an end. We might find our way back to each other someday, but we might not.
We’re both committed to ensuring this transition is as healthy as possible for our kids and ourselves. We’re separating while still recognizing that something exists between us. We’re not so far gone that we’re oblivious to each other’s pain. I still see him, and I know he’s hurting too.
I truly believe that if you feel the need to leave your marriage, you should. You can break free from a life that no longer serves you, and healing can begin when you create space from what’s been holding you back. You are the only one who knows how you truly feel, even if it goes against the grain. Ever since that night, I’ve felt like a better version of myself. I know this journey will be difficult, but regardless of the outcome, we will both learn from this experience and grow stronger.
If you found this article insightful, check out one of our other blog posts, which provides excellent resources for navigating relationships and personal growth.
Summary
This article explores the challenging decision to leave a marriage when it becomes clear that love and happiness are absent. The author shares their personal journey of facing suppressed emotions, recognizing the need for change, and the liberation that comes with making tough choices for personal well-being.