I married my husband ten years ago, full of hope and dreams for our future together. In the beginning, everything felt perfect, or at least that’s what I convinced myself. We were young, in love, and I believed we could overcome anything. But soon after, I began to see a different side of him—one that was unfaithful and often unkind. He would cheat, lie, and sometimes treat me with disrespect. It hurt deeply, but back then, I was still trying to hold on to the idea of the man I thought he was or could become.

I forgave him, not just once, but multiple times. I told myself that things would get better, that he would change. I wanted our marriage to work; I wanted us to be a family, especially as we started having children. I hoped that our love, or maybe just the sheer determination to stay together, would somehow heal the cracks that had already begun to form.

For a while, I threw myself into being a wife and mother. I focused on our children, trying to find joy in their laughter and milestones, hoping it would make up for the emptiness I felt elsewhere. But the pain and betrayal left scars that I couldn’t simply forget or ignore. As much as I tried to bury my feelings, the resentment started to grow. I would often find myself reflecting on all the moments he hurt me, all the lies and broken promises.

Around five or six years into our marriage, those feelings of resentment became harder to suppress. It wasn’t just anger or sadness anymore; it was a longing for something different, something more. I started having urges to reach out to other men behind his back, not out of a desire for revenge but because I craved the attention and affection I wasn’t getting from my husband.

It was a confusing and conflicting time for me. I knew it was wrong, but I also felt like I deserved to feel wanted, to be treated with respect and love. I wanted to remember what it felt like to be appreciated, to have someone genuinely care about me. I started to entertain the idea of having a connection outside my marriage, thinking that maybe it would fill the void my husband had created.

But with every urge to reach out to someone new, I was met with a wave of guilt and shame. I was torn between my vows and my desire for happiness. It was like living in two worlds—one where I was the dutiful wife and mother, and another where I was a woman longing for something more.

I still don’t know where these feelings will lead me or how to reconcile them with the life I’ve built. But I know I can’t keep living in the shadows of my husband’s mistakes and my own unmet needs. Every day feels like a balancing act between loyalty to my family and loyalty to myself, trying to figure out if there is a way to honor both without losing who I am in the process.