As I trudged through the front door, exhausted from a 12-hour shift at the hospital, I was greeted by chaos. My husband, Garrett, was lounging on the couch, beer in hand, while our kids, Zach and Penny, ran wild around him. I bit back a sarcastic remark, but my frustration was palpable.
Garrett’s lack of effort around the house and with the kids had become the norm. I felt like a single parent, shouldering all the responsibilities while he enjoyed his free time. Our upcoming beach vacation was supposed to be a chance for us to reconnect, but Garrett’s attitude had already dampened my enthusiasm.
When the kids fell ill and couldn’t travel, Garrett decided to go on the vacation alone, leaving me to care for them. That was the final straw. I realized I deserved better and decided to take matters into my own hands.
While Garrett was away, I sold all his prized possessions, using the money to take the kids on a surprise vacation. It was liberating to take control of my life and prioritize my own happiness.
When Garrett returned and discovered what I had done, he was furious. But I stood my ground, tired of being taken for granted. Our conversation ended with me asking for a divorce, a decision that both scared and relieved me.
As I looked out at the ocean, I felt a sense of freedom I hadn’t experienced in years. The road ahead would be uncertain, but I was ready to face it head-on. I had finally found the courage to put myself first and prioritize my own self-worth.
In that moment, I knew I had made the right decision. I was taking back control of my life, and nothing would ever be the same again.
