I hate my marriage, and it took me a long time to admit that out loud.
It didn’t start this way. In the beginning, my husband was charming, confident, and attentive. But somewhere along the years, that version of him disappeared. Now, he talks badly about me to my face — small insults disguised as jokes, sharp comments framed as “honesty,” constant criticism that slowly chips away at my confidence.
At first, I tried to brush it off. I told myself every marriage has rough patches. That maybe I was being too sensitive. That if I just tried harder, things would get better.
Then I started hearing what he said about me when I wasn’t around.
Friends and acquaintances would mention things casually — comments he made at gatherings, stories he told that painted me as lazy, difficult, or embarrassing. People I barely knew suddenly looked at me with pity or awkward smiles. I realized he wasn’t just venting. He was reshaping my image, turning me into the villain of his stories.
What hurt the most was how normal it seemed to him.
When I confronted him, he didn’t apologize. He laughed. He said I was overreacting. He claimed he was “just being honest” and that if I didn’t like it, maybe I should “do better.” In that moment, I understood something painful: he didn’t respect me, and he didn’t care that his words were hurting me.
Living like this is exhausting.
I second-guess everything I say. I feel smaller in rooms where I used to feel confident. I dread social situations because I don’t know what version of me he’s already shared with the world. And the worst part is realizing how quietly this kind of emotional damage happens — no shouting, no dramatic scenes, just constant erosion.
I don’t know yet what my next step is. Leaving feels terrifying. Staying feels soul-crushing. But writing this is the first time I’ve been honest with myself: love shouldn’t feel like humiliation, and marriage shouldn’t feel like survival.
If nothing else, I’m learning that recognizing the truth — even when it’s uncomfortable — is the first step toward reclaiming myself.
