I walked away not because I gave up on love, but because I refused to keep settling for less than I deserve. For years, I convinced myself that love meant endurance, that if I just held on a little longer, things would get better. I made excuses for the neglect, the indifference, the way I felt lonelier in the same room as him than I did when I was actually alone.

I poured my heart into a marriage that no longer held space for me. I silenced my needs, dimmed my light, and convinced myself that if I just tried harder, maybe he would see me, hear me, love me the way I deserved. But love isn’t meant to be begged for. It isn’t meant to feel like a constant battle to prove your worth.

Loving myself enough to leave was the hardest, yet bravest thing I’ve ever done. It meant walking into the unknown, facing a world that often tells women to stay, to endure, to settle. It meant letting go of the dreams I had for us and embracing the possibility of a future I would build on my own terms.

And now, as I step forward, I carry no regrets—only lessons. I know my worth. I know what love should feel like. And most of all, I know that choosing myself wasn’t selfish—it was necessary. Because the love I was searching for? It started with me.