How My First Marriage Ended

I was in a few committed relationships with some good guys before I met my first husband.

Perhaps I had a little wild streak in me, so I found these guys boring.

When I met my first husband (let’s call him, Trevor), I was attracted to his confidence and fun-loving nature. He was everything I wasn’t.

As they say, opposites attract.

Honestly, I didn’t think I would marry a guy like Trevor. But I figured since we’ve been dating for over a year, why not.

I know that made it sound haphazard, but I did make this decision logically.

Trevor was doing well in his career and seemed to be checking most of the important boxes.

I knew that if we got married, I won’t have to worry about having sufficient funds for my retirement. I’d have the lifestyle I wanted.

In my 20s then, that seemed to be the mark of a successful life.

Also due to peer pressure, as I was the last girl in my social circle to be married, I thought this would be the sensible next step in my life.

Like most marriages, the first year was always the most blissful.

After the bliss wore off, I found myself having dinner alone at home on many weeknights.

Trevor was a sales manager, which required him to entertain his clients after office hours over drinks rather often. Or so he said.

I remembered one evening as I was having yet another dinner alone in my beautiful home, I thought to myself, if this is how married life is supposed to be like, I’m not sure if I’ll be happy like this for the rest of my life.

I also started to notice that sometimes when we go out with friends, he’d excuse himself to go to the restroom of a restaurant or cafe. Although I’d be chatting with his friends, I’d notice he won’t return until quite a long while later. His mobile phone would also not be on the table, like it usually would be if he really did need to use the facilities. This was before the time of smartphones.

When I finally asked why he took so long, he simply mumbled something I couldn’t quite hear, then quickly started talking to his friends again.

Even when he’s home, I’d notice he’d bring his phone with him to the bathroom.

Then one night, I was walking to our bedroom, about to prepare for bed. As I walked past our study, I over-heard him talking gently to someone about how many times they’ve done it already.

I could literally feel the blood drain from my face, because I knew what it meant.

From his tone and the content of his conversation, it’s obvious to me that he’s talking to another woman.

I listened in disbelief until his phone conversation ended.

I couldn’t even remember if I had properly gone through my usual bedtime beauty routine after that. I only remembered that I couldn’t sleep a wink that night.

The next one week was the most excruciating 7 days of my marriage, until I finally confronted him with receipts I found through his stuff from a women’s clothing store, a women’s shoes store, a jewellery store and a box of business cards of a woman named Magdelene.

At first, he claimed they didn’t do anything. Then he specifically said they didn’t have sex.

He didn’t even try to deny that this Magdelene was more than a friend. He just made it all sound like I’m supposed to accept all this and move on.

Honestly when I confronted him, I was hoping that he'd come clean with me and tell me he'd make the effort to be faithful and be a better husband.

Apparently, that idea was only in my fantasy.

He simply stated in a matter-of-fact way that this is the way he is.

I felt utterly alone. I wondered what’s the most painless way to end my life.

Thankfully, God helped me to come out of my depression and gave me the strength to carry on.

So after a few weeks, I told him we should file for a divorce. He didn't object.

However, our home had a minimum occupancy period of 5 years. We've only been married for 3 years at that point. So we decided to separate first then file for the divorce 2 years later.

As Trevor is a foreigner, he didn't have any relatives living in my country to live with, and he refused to pay rent for the next 2 years before we sold off our home.

Since I wasn't the one who was unfaithful, I didn't see why I should move out either.

So we decided to still live in our apartment, with him moving into our spare bedroom.

One evening as I was in the kitchen washing my dishes, I heard Trevor return home. My back was facing the main door, but I continued my washing. Then I heard a woman's voice say 'hello' quite loudly. There was silence after that, and I wondered if she was waiting for my acknowledgement.

Then I slowly turned my torso around, because I was wondering what kind of a woman would want to say 'hi' to her 'boyfriend's' soon-to-be ex-wife.

I was surprised to see that she's still standing at our entrance waiting for my response.

I returned my greeting patronisingly, as she waved enthusiastically.

In retrospect after that, it's likely that Trevor didn't even tell her that he's married, and could've told her that I was his house-mate.

On another occasion one morning, as I came out of my bedroom to go out, I was surprised to almost bump into a woman walking towards his bedroom in nothing but a bath towel.

Frankly, if Trevor had wanted to save our marriage, he could've taken advantage of those 2 years of having to live together to reconcile. We still had a history together, and I'm a rather sentimental person.

But after these incidences, I concluded that being with such a man would be a great insult to my integrity.

Some people might think that it's unfortunate that I married Trevor. But in hindsight now, I believe it could have been a rite of passage for my self-actualisation.

The end of my marriage became the beginning of my journey to finding my true self.

https://www.findgodlyman.com/post/i-only-knew-myself-when-i-was-40

It then led to me also publishing my book.

So if you're going through a very difficult situation now and may not seem to see an end in sight, stay hopeful that your story does not end here.

When (not if) you come out of this, your struggle can be the very encouragement someone else needed to hear or read to give them the hope to carry on.

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