I’ve been married for 10 years, and while I once forgave my husband for mistreating me and cheating, over time, resentment grew inside me. When we first got together, I was young, full of hope, and eager to build a life together. I wanted to believe in the promises he made, in the future we’d create. But as the years passed, the cracks in our relationship became harder to ignore. His infidelity was something I had brushed aside, telling myself I could move past it. I wanted to keep my family intact, for my children’s sake and for the life we had built together. But inside, the hurt never fully healed.
Over time, I found myself more distant, more withdrawn. The love that once felt so vibrant began to fade, replaced by a quiet bitterness I couldn’t shake. My husband became increasingly indifferent, his actions continued to hurt, and I found myself suffocating in a relationship that no longer made me feel valued. I started resenting the way he treated me, the way he took me for granted. He’d been unfaithful, and yet, somehow, I felt like I was the one who was always forgiving, always trying to hold everything together.
As the years went on, I began to feel emotionally hollow. The intimacy in our relationship dwindled, replaced by routines and empty exchanges. The emotional connection that once existed was now a distant memory, and I realized that I needed something more. I longed for someone who would see me, someone who would appreciate and desire me in a way my husband no longer did.
It wasn’t just a fleeting thought. It was a need—a hunger for validation and affection that my marriage no longer provided. At first, it was small things, a smile from a man in the store or a compliment from a coworker. But the more I went without the attention I craved, the more I felt this unrelenting urge to seek it out. I began to fantasize about what it would be like to feel desired again, to feel that spark of connection with someone who would treat me the way I deserved. It wasn’t about the thrill of cheating; it was about filling the emptiness that had consumed me.
I knew what I was doing wasn’t right, but the loneliness had become unbearable. I felt like a stranger in my own life, caught between the love I once had and the resentment that now defined my marriage. The thought of reaching out to someone else—someone who could make me feel seen—was both exhilarating and terrifying. I wasn’t sure where it would lead, but I couldn’t ignore the longing any longer. It was a desperate cry for attention, a way to fill the void that seemed to grow deeper every day.
