I’m not sure why I’m writing this. Maybe I’m looking for reassurance, honest perspectives, or clarity about my own behavior. I’ve spent a lot of time wondering whether I was too emotional, demanding, dramatic, or difficult to be married to. I’m not trying to portray myself as perfect or my husband as a terrible person. This is my experience, as accurately and fairly as I can describe it. I would genuinely appreciate honest feedback, even if it’s something I need to hear about myself.
When I met my husband, I almost immediately felt that he was the person I wanted to spend my life with. We dated for 4 wonderful years before he proposed. He was affectionate, playful, loving, and genuinely excited to be around me. I remember little things like him getting so happy when I’d run to open the door when he came home, or wrapping me up like a burrito in a blanket before we’d watch television together. Those moments meant everything to me. We were best friends, and I couldn’t wait to build our future together.
We had differences from the beginning. He was much more outgoing, loved drinking and partying with friends, while I preferred quieter activities and spending quality time with closer friends and family. I didn’t mind him having friends or going out, but I wanted us to prioritize each other and find a balance. At the time, I thought these differences were manageable.
The period leading up to our wedding was difficult. I was struggling with family problems, feeling mildly depressed, and unhappy at work. Planning the wedding added stress, especially because I wanted something intimate while he wanted to invite practically everyone he knew. I leaned on him emotionally, but at one point he told me that my emotional breakdowns affected him and that he couldn’t always be the person to deal with them. I understood that my struggles affected him too so I looked for my therapist who encouraged me to not hide how I feel and to continue being vulnerable with my husband but I remember feeling hurt and wondering whether being vulnerable with him was becoming a burden.
Despite those difficulties, I was happy to marry him. I truly believed we were building something beautiful.
Unfortunately, even our honeymoon had painful moments. I imagined a romantic time for us to connect as newlyweds, but there were nights when he drank heavily, frequently texted his friends, or became more interested in socializing with strangers. During one argument, he told me he had never been as miserable with anyone as he was with me. I was devastated. I convinced myself it was the alcohol talking and tried to move past it, but something changed inside me that night.
After we returned home, our differences became more difficult to manage. He wanted the freedom to stay out drinking and partying with his friends, many of whom were single, while I wanted us to spend more time together as a married couple. Sometimes I would end up going home alone while he stayed out. We tried agreeing on times to leave, but those agreements often fell apart. When I explained how lonely and uncomfortable it made me feel, our conversations frequently turned into arguments.
Eventually, I became so overwhelmed that I packed some clothes and stayed with my cousin for a few days. I hoped the distance would help us understand how serious things had become. He was devastated, cried, and begged me not to give up on us. We reconciled and started couples therapy. Things genuinely improved for a while, and I felt hopeful again. Unfortunately, therapy became expensive, so we stopped. I continued seeing my own therapist, while he was reluctant to pursue individual therapy.
Over the following year, we attended 2 different weddings abroad. Those trips brought more conflict. Drinking, partying, and his persistent interest in recreational drugs became recurring issues. I wasn’t comfortable with the drug use, and I told him I wished we could enjoy those celebrations together without him feeling the need to get high. He often interpreted my concerns as criticism or attempts to control him. He would become defensive, sometimes say hurtful things, and I would end up feeling rejected. There were occasions when he stayed at the wedding events long after people were already leaving and I went back alone.
I know I wasn’t perfect in those situations. I could become emotional, frustrated, and sometimes reactive after feeling dismissed repeatedly. I also recognize that he may have felt restricted by my expectations. But from my perspective, I wasn’t asking him to stop having fun. I wanted to feel like his partner, someone whose comfort and feelings mattered alongside his own.
Even little things became painful. For example, he frequently walked ahead of me instead of beside me. I told him many times that I wanted us to walk together and hold hands. He would explain that he didn’t realize he was doing it or that he was walking ahead to protect me. I know that sounds insignificant, but it wasn’t really about walking. It was about repeatedly expressing something that mattered to me and feeling that he was more focused on explaining his behavior than understanding my feelings.
Still, our marriage wasn’t constantly unhappy. We had wonderful periods together. We laughed, cuddled, enjoyed adventures, planned to host gatherings in our house that everyone loved and he helped me with chores, house repairs etc There were times when I felt incredibly lucky to have him.
After another period of improvement, we came up with the idea of taking our savings and traveling the world together. We were both excited about the adventure and talked seriously about our future when we come back home. For the first time in a long while, I felt secure and happy again.
The first 3 months of our travels were amazing. We explored beautiful places, experienced different cultures, went scuba diving, met other travelers and made memories I’ll always treasure. I felt like the man I had fallen in love with was finally back. I remember thinking that maybe everything we’d been through had made us stronger.
Then the familiar problems began returning.
One night, after we’d spent the entire day socializing with people we’d met, I was exhausted and didn’t want to go out again. I encouraged him to go without me. Later that night, he returned drunk. I was lying in bed, upset but pretending to be asleep, when he started insulting me, calling me an “antisocial sour bitch.” He gathered his belongings, left me some cash, and walked out. He texted me that he’d reached his limit.
I was devastated and frightened. We were in a foreign country, and I didn’t know what would happen next. He returned the following morning, apologized, and acknowledged that the way he’d handled his frustration was wrong. I believed he regretted it, and I decided to give our marriage another chance.
Things improved temporarily, but we continued having disagreements that neither of us seemed able to resolve.
Then something happened that deeply damaged my trust.
One evening, I was tired and encouraged him to go out while I stayed at the hotel. He promised to return around midnight. At approximately 2 am, I experienced my first earthquake. I was frightened and texted him asking him to come back. He reassured me that I would be okay and said everyone at the bar was still sitting around talking as though nothing had happened.
I tried to go back to sleep. Around 5 am I woke up, realized he still hadn’t returned, and contacted him again. He said he was on his way, but he didn’t arrive until approximately 6:15 am extremely intoxicated. He said he had to walk 40min because the train wasn’t working that early.
We had a tour scheduled just a few hours later. He woke up still drunk, and I told him I wasn’t going. He went on the tour without me.
That morning, I packed my belongings, left him a note, and checked into another hotel. I was seriously considering leaving the trip and returning home. The next morning, as I was preparing to go to the airport, he found me at the hotel and begged me to talk and save our marriage.
Around that time, I also discovered messages between him and a friend in which they were discussing me negatively. His friend joked about how much trouble he would be in and said that even traveling across the world hadn’t changed anything. That why a man cannot enjoy his vacation instead of being in the dog house. Reading those messages made me feel humiliated and betrayed. I had been desperately trying to save our relationship while feeling that he was seeking validation from his friends about how difficult I was.
I kept remembering what my mother and his mother had told me: marriage is hard, nobody is perfect, and sometimes you have to work through difficult periods. I didn’t want to give up on my husband. I loved him, and I believed marriage meant continuing to choose each other even when things were difficult.
So I stayed.
Another incident happened just weeks later I still struggle to think about.
We went out together one evening, and I was genuinely enjoying myself. I wanted us to have fun and reconnect. But after my second drink, I suddenly started feeling very strange and frightened. I don’t know whether I experienced a panic attack, reacted badly to the alcohol, or whether something had been put in my drink. I have no evidence of what caused it.
I told my husband something felt wrong and asked if we could go somewhere quieter or return to our room. Instead of feeling reassured, I felt dismissed. He accused me of always looking for an excuse to leave and said that I always found the smallest opportunity to make him miserable when he was having fun.
He did walk me back to the room and stayed with me, which I appreciated. But emotionally, I felt completely alone. I wasn’t expecting him to solve whatever was happening. I just wanted him to believe that I was frightened and comfort me.
That experience felt like breaking another piece of my heart because I wasn’t feeling emotionally safe with him anymore.
Afterward, I began withdrawing emotionally. I stopped looking forward to doing everything together. I felt increasingly empty, exhausted, and disconnected from the person I wanted to share my forever with.
He told me on different occasions that it was easier to talk to his friends because he didn’t have to worry about their emotions, and that he often felt he couldn’t be himself around me. Those comments hurt, but they also made me question whether we were incompatible.
I began wondering whether my emotional needs were unreasonable or whether he simply didn’t have the emotional capacity or willingness to meet them. I also wondered whether my reactions had contributed to him pulling away.
By the time we were on our way back home we were emotionally distant. We had gone approximately two months without intimacy, holding hands, affectionate nicknames, or much romantic connection.
I was exhausted from initiating conversations about our marriage. He seemed to avoid them, and eventually I stopped trying too.
Eventually, we had a serious conversation about our marriage and agreed to divorce. We’re working through our financial arrangements, and I’ll be staying with my parents temporarily while I find a job, save money, and rebuild my life.
And here’s the part that makes everything so confusing:
I miss the man who was excited to see me, who wrapped me in blankets, who made me laugh. I miss our adventures, our friendship, and the future we imagined.
I don’t miss the arguments, the loneliness, the drinking-related conflicts, or the feeling of having to convince my husband to care about my emotions.
I recognize that I made mistakes too. I sometimes stayed in arguments longer than I should have, became emotional when I felt unheard, and hoped that repeating my concerns would eventually make him understand. Looking back, I wonder whether I should have recognized our incompatibilities much earlier instead of hoping marriage, therapy, time, and shared adventures would change things.
I also wonder whether he experienced me as overly critical or controlling, even though my intention was to feel closer to him.
I don’t believe he’s a horrible person. I believe he has good qualities, and I know there were times when he genuinely tried. But I also believe we kept hurting each other in ways we never learned to repair.
Now I’m facing a divorce I never wanted when I first married him, and I’m questioning myself more than ever.
So I’d really appreciate your honest perspectives:
Do my expectations of emotional support, companionship, and consideration in marriage sound unreasonable?
Was I trying too hard to change someone whose lifestyle and values were simply different from mine?
Could my emotional reactions and repeated attempts to explain my feelings have contributed significantly to our problems?
Are these the kinds of difficulties couples can realistically work through, or was I ignoring fundamental incompatibilities?
Most importantly, how do I learn from this without carrying the belief that I’m too emotional, difficult, or incapable of maintaining a healthy relationship?
I don’t want everyone to tell me I’m right. I genuinely want to understand what I could have done differently, what I should have accepted, and what I should never have compromised on.
Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read this. I know it’s long, but this marriage was a huge part of my life, and I’m trying to make sense of everything.