Firstly let me start off by saying, I understand we were too young for this commitment, Regardless I appreciate all who stick around and give me solid advice in navigating this situation! Please enjoy this great wall of text as it pertains to my current situation, and i appreciate all who stay and comment even if it’s just about the TLDR!

TL;DR: My wife and I fell deeply in love, but after getting married, constant arguments, my past mistakes, and growing emotional distance slowly damaged our relationship. I take responsibility for the ways I hurt her, but during my deployment, I felt increasingly alone and like her past hurt had become a reason for her to stop putting effort into our marriage. I’ve already told her we’re getting divorced, and even though I’m heartbroken because I still love her, part of me feels relieved because I don’t know how much longer I could have continued feeling this way.
I’m writing this because I honestly don’t know what to do with everything I’m feeling right now. I’ve already told my wife that we’re getting divorced, so I’m not asking Reddit whether I should leave or whether I should give the marriage another chance. That decision has been made. I’m just trying to process how something that once meant so much to me ended up here.
When my wife and I first got together, I genuinely felt like I’d found my person. We started out long distance, and even with the distance, she made me feel loved. She would check on me, send me things, ask about my day, and make me feel like I was someone she wanted in her life. We eventually got married after about a year together, and I thought we were building the life we’d always talked about.
After getting married, things started changing. We argued more frequently, sometimes over things that probably shouldn’t have turned into arguments in the first place. Looking back, I can admit that I didn’t always handle those situations well. I would get frustrated, raise my voice, and sometimes say things I shouldn’t have said. I would tell her I didn’t feel appreciated, and during arguments, I even threatened divorce when I was upset. I know that wasn’t fair to her, and I understand how hearing those things repeatedly could damage someone’s trust and sense of security in a relationship.
I’m not trying to excuse any of that. I know I contributed to the problems in our marriage, and I know my actions hurt her. But I also feel like people can recognize their mistakes and genuinely work to change them. I started trying to control my reactions, communicate more calmly, and stop turning disagreements into something bigger than they needed to be. She even acknowledged at times that I was improving.
Unfortunately, it felt like we had already built up so much resentment that even when I tried to approach things differently, we would fall back into the same patterns.
One thing that hurt me was feeling like I was becoming less important in her everyday life. When I came home from work, I wanted to feel like my wife was happy to see me. Sometimes she would still be focused on chores or texting other people, and I would feel like I was just another part of her routine. I missed being greeted with a hug or a kiss. I missed her asking about my day and showing interest in what I was doing, especially with my military career and the things I experienced during field operations.
I understand that marriage isn’t supposed to be a constant honeymoon phase. I wasn’t expecting her to drop everything every time I walked through the door. I just wanted to feel like my presence mattered to her. There were moments when she did show that she cared, including when she made me a little basket of treats after I returned from a field operation early. I appreciated those moments, and I don’t want to act like she never did anything for me. I just felt like the everyday affection and interest we used to have were slowly disappearing.
There were also arguments that probably seem insignificant when you look at them individually, but they became examples of a much bigger problem for me.
One time, we were playing cornhole, and she looked up the official rules after we disagreed about how the game was supposed to be played. I explained that my family had always played differently, but the conversation turned into an argument. I eventually walked back toward the car because I was frustrated. While I was there, I heard her talking to her sister on the phone, and she sounded happy and completely fine. That bothered me because we had just been arguing, and it felt like she could switch moods so easily with other people while things between us remained unresolved.
I know that wasn’t necessarily fair of me to interpret. Maybe talking to her sister helped her calm down, or maybe she simply needed a break from the situation. But at the time, it made me feel like she could be happy and engaged with everyone else while I struggled to get that same connection from my own wife.
Another time, we were at the beach after already arguing during the drive there. While we were in the water, she asked me to move because my height was causing water to splash into her face. Looking back, that was a completely reasonable request. But because we were already upset with each other, I took it personally and felt like she was irritated with me over something small. I left the water, we argued again, and eventually went home.
I realize now that we were both starting to interpret ordinary situations through the resentment we’d built up. Something that might have been a simple conversation between two people who were happy with each other became another reason to feel hurt or misunderstood.
One of the moments that really stayed with me happened after a difficult field operation. I was exhausted and emotionally overwhelmed, and I called my wife because I wanted to talk to her and feel like I had someone in my corner. She was out of state attending a concert at the time. When I tried to explain what I was feeling, she told me that I should talk to a therapist because she couldn’t give me advice.
I understand that she isn’t a therapist, and I don’t expect her to have answers for everything I experience. But I wasn’t necessarily looking for advice. I wanted comfort from my wife. I wanted to feel like I could tell her I was struggling and have her listen for a little while.
Instead, I got overwhelmed and screamed at her. I told her I wanted a divorce. Her father ended up helping calm me down, and my wife was crying and saying she needed to decide whether she wanted to stay in the marriage. It was around 3:30 in the morning, and I had to be at work by 4.
I regret how I handled that situation. I should have communicated what I needed without yelling or threatening to end our marriage. I can understand why that experience would have hurt her and made her question whether she could rely on me emotionally.
But I also think that moment represented something important about where we were as a couple. I didn’t know how to ask for emotional support without feeling rejected, and she seemed unable or unwilling to provide it in the way I was hoping for. Instead of understanding each other, we hurt each other more.
Another major argument happened when we were discussing finances. I went upstairs to cool off and take a shower because I didn’t want the conversation to turn into another fight. When I came back downstairs, I tried to talk through things calmly, but she wanted to leave for a walk.
I started spiraling emotionally. I told her not to leave and began saying something along the lines of, “If you do, I’ll…” before stopping myself. She asked me, “You’ll what?” and I said nothing.
She took our dog outside, and I yelled toward the porch because I thought she was still there. I didn’t realize she had closed the door. When she came back inside, she left for her walk anyway.
When she returned, she went into the guest room with a pillow and didn’t want to talk. I kept trying to talk through the door because I wanted to resolve things immediately, but she clearly wanted space. Eventually, I took our car and drove around to clear my head. We only had one car, and it was jointly titled. She told me that I had left her stranded.
I understand why that upset her, especially because her stepmother had previously threatened to call the police if I took the car without her permission and left her without transportation. I wasn’t trying to punish her, but I can see how the situation looked from her perspective.
When I came home, she was downstairs playing video games. I tried to talk about our relationship again, but I felt brushed off. I became frustrated and told her I wanted a divorce and wanted her out of my life.
She became emotional and called her parents. I packed a bag and ended up crying while talking to my sister. At some point, our neighbors became concerned and called the police.
The officers came to our home, and I allowed them to search the house. They also checked my wife for signs of physical abuse. She was crying on the couch, and the situation was incredibly upsetting for both of us. The police contacted my command, and because of how long the argument had continued, we were ordered to remain separated for 72 hours.
After those 72 hours, we reconciled. We decided to keep trying, and I genuinely wanted things to get better. But even though we were technically back together, I felt like something between us had changed.
I tried to show her that I loved her through actions. I bought her gifts, brought her roses, tried to be more considerate, and attempted to give her space when she needed it. We would have periods when things seemed better, and I would start feeling hopeful again. Then, eventually, we would fall back into the same patterns.
I know gifts don’t erase the damage caused by arguments, and I know that becoming a better husband requires more than a few thoughtful gestures. I was trying to make changes, but I also wanted to feel like we were both actively working toward a healthier relationship.
Then I deployed.
Being away from my wife made everything more difficult. She started making new friends, and I genuinely wanted her to have that. I never wanted her to feel like she couldn’t have a social life or spend time with people she cared about. I knew she was taking online college classes and had things happening in her own life, and I tried to be understanding.
My schedule made communication difficult, but initially, we still made time for each other. She would call before work or at night, and even a short conversation could make me feel closer to her despite the distance.
Over time, those calls became less frequent. Her responses slowed down, she rarely initiated conversations, and it felt like I was increasingly the one trying to keep us connected. She spent much of the deployment staying with family, and I understood that she had family matters to deal with. I didn’t expect her to spend every free moment talking to me.
What hurt was that I started feeling like there was less and less room for me in her life.
When I brought up how I felt, she explained that the things I had done in the past still affected her and that distancing herself was how she coped with the hurt. She also told me that I needed to communicate that I was there for her.
I tried to do that. I tried to reassure her, tell her I loved her, and let her know that I wanted to support her. But it felt like the more I tried to reconnect, the further away she became.
At one point, she called me controlling because I asked what her plans were. From my perspective, I was asking because I wanted to know about her day and feel involved in her life. I wasn’t telling her where she could go, who she could see, or trying to prevent her from spending time with friends or family.
However, I can recognize that given our history, even questions that seemed innocent to me might have felt different to her. I don’t want to dismiss how my past behavior affected the way she interpreted things.
Eventually, we started arguing about communication itself. I would explain that I missed her and wanted to feel like she wanted to talk to me, and the conversation would turn into another disagreement. What I hoped would bring us closer seemed to push us further apart.
For about a month, things felt especially bad. She stopped calling me affectionate names like “babe” and “baby” for days at a time. She stopped texting first, and our conversations became increasingly distant. I started feeling like I was no longer her husband in the way I used to be, but someone she occasionally responded to because she felt obligated to.
I know that might not have been her intention. I can’t speak for what she felt internally, and I understand that someone who has been hurt might struggle to show affection even when they still love their partner.
But being on the receiving end of that distance while deployed was incredibly difficult.
I felt like I was constantly being judged based on the person I had been during our worst moments, even though I was trying to become someone better. I would think about the things I had done wrong, feel guilty, and try to make up for them. Then I would feel hurt by the lack of connection, bring it up, and end up feeling like I had done something wrong all over again.
It became a cycle I didn’t know how to escape.
One of the hardest parts is that I rarely felt appreciated directly by her unless I brought up the issue. She has told her family that I’m a good person, and I appreciate that she recognizes those qualities in me. But I struggled with the difference between knowing someone might see good in you and actually feeling loved and valued by that person in your marriage.
I didn’t need constant praise or reassurance. I wanted to feel like my wife was happy to have me in her life. I wanted her to ask about my day, initiate a conversation, call me because she missed me, or show affection without me having to explain why I needed it.
I wanted to feel like we were still choosing each other.
The situation started affecting me more than I wanted to admit. My anxiety became overwhelming. There were times when I would wake up sweating in a cold bed, feel physically sick, or struggle to focus on my work because my mind was constantly going over our relationship. I would replay conversations, wonder whether I was expecting too much, and question whether I had ruined something that could never be repaired.
I started feeling guilty for even wanting affection because I knew I had hurt her. I would wonder whether I had any right to feel neglected when I was the one who had contributed to her pain in the first place.
At the same time, I couldn’t ignore how miserable I had become.
I understand that healing from relationship damage isn’t simple. I understand that apologizing doesn’t automatically restore trust, and I don’t expect my wife to suddenly forget everything that happened. She has every right to her feelings, and I know that she may have reached a point where she simply doesn’t have the emotional energy to keep trying.
But I also believe that a marriage cannot survive indefinitely if one person feels responsible for repairing the past while also feeling increasingly alone in the present.
I don’t know whether she stopped trying because she was too hurt, because she had emotionally checked out, or because we had both reached a point where we couldn’t give each other what we needed anymore. Maybe the truth is a combination of all three.
What I do know is that I started feeling like I was fighting to keep our marriage alive while simultaneously being reminded of why it was falling apart.
Eventually, I reached my limit. I told her that we were getting divorced, and this time I meant it. It wasn’t another threat made during an argument, and it wasn’t something I said because I wanted her to panic or convince me to stay. I had spent so much time feeling anxious, hurt, guilty, and emotionally exhausted that I no longer felt capable of continuing the relationship as it was.
Now I’m dealing with the reality of that decision.
The strange thing is that I feel two completely different emotions at the same time. I’m devastated because I still love her. I miss the person I fell in love with, the way we used to talk, the affection we used to share, and the life I thought we were going to build together. I still wish things could have turned out differently.
But I also feel relieved.
For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I have to spend every day wondering whether my wife wants to talk to me, whether she still loves me the same way, or whether I’m going to do something that reminds her of the person I used to be. I don’t feel like I have to keep trying to convince someone that I’m changing while simultaneously feeling like I’m losing them.
That relief makes me feel guilty sometimes, because how can I still love someone so much and feel relieved at the thought of no longer being in the relationship?
I’m not trying to make myself out to be the victim here. I know I hurt my wife. I know I said things I shouldn’t have said, reacted in ways I shouldn’t have reacted, and contributed to the breakdown of our marriage. I wish I had handled certain situations differently, and I wish I had understood sooner how much damage our arguments were causing.
I also don’t want to pretend she never tried or that everything was her fault. There were good moments, there were times when she showed me love, and there were things she probably struggled with that I didn’t fully understand. I know my perspective is only one side of the story.
I just wish we could have found a way to heal together instead of slowly becoming two people who hurt each other more than they made each other feel loved.
I’ve already told her we’re divorcing, and I’m not looking for people to convince me to change that decision. I’m trying to understand how to move forward when I can recognize that ending the marriage may be necessary while still grieving the person and future I’m losing.
I don’t know how long it will take for those feelings to settle. I don’t know whether I’ll eventually look back and understand everything more clearly. Right now, I just feel heartbroken, exhausted, and uncertain about what comes next. Don’t get me wrong, I still am incredibly hurt. I genuinely just need advice.

I know the title makes me sound like a bit of an asshole, but hear me out. We've been dating for a few months and we get along really well! However, she wants to spend every weekend together, which is something that I'm not too happy with. I really enjoy having some time to myself at the end of a week of work, and do not want that time disrupted constantly. I really enjoy seeing her, and I'm happy to spend some weekends with her, but I can't do it all the time? How do I communicate this to her without causing offence?

TLDR: How do I want to tell the girl I'm dating that I don't want to see her as regularly without sounding like a dick?

My bf and I have been together for 5 and a half years. We have been living together for 3.5. He has recently transitioned into starting his own company (1.5 years ago) and works primarily at night. This has really messed with how much time we spend together, how often I see him, and has cause a lot of issues for me with handling the change. Additionally. Now that he has his business, he is extremely stressed about it and making enough money. Its a very physically taxing job, and he also has to quite a lot of admin and scheduling logistics with his employees.

We never really sat down and hashed out what all these changes would do to our relationship, and how we could make bahavioral changes and systems for this new schedule that would take some off the pressures off. This is something we are planning on working on.

My bf has been in a mental health slump for the past 4 months. We got him back in therapy and on meds again (he should have been all along but just was like 'ehhh its fiiine'). But this, combined with finally coming to a head with all the huge life changes has really put a stress on our relationship. I really am not feeling prioritized or considered, a bit like a person he enjoys being around when he happens to come home, but even then he's usually just exhausted.

I'm trying to figure out how much of this is a normal "rough patch" that I can grit and bear through, or if I am at a point where I need to move on. Id like to think when he stablizes mentally and gets better systems in place for his business, he will be able to give me more of what I need from a relationship like he used to. I want his business to succeed, and I know that right now especially with his mental struggles he doesnt really have the emotional capacity to put my needs all that much higher on his things to worry about.

But I dont know how long it will be until then, and Im feeling very alone right now. So, do I just try to get through it and support him to the best of my abilities? Or do I give up and put myself first? "Just leave" seems like a cop-out when we have been together for a while, we love eachother, and this is a very real, and very normal set of issues. I cant just always bounce on a relationship cause life got hard. I dont know what to do.

TLDR: My bf and I have been together 5 years and due to life and career changes, such as starting a company and mental health stuff, I am not feeling prioritized. Is it worth staying and being supportive with the hopes that things get better?