Source: Reddit
My (now) ex husband and I were high school sweethearts. We married straight out of college and thought we would last forever. His mother never liked me and wanted him to settle down and marry a “nice Italian girl. Like their neighbor” (They’re Italian-American), but because he instead married me, (a black very not Italian woman) she despised me. Despite that, I was always extremely cordial and polite to her, I learned family recipes and embraced Italian culture as much as she let me. I thought our relationship was improving before she died, she still didn’t approve of me but at least she didn’t openly scowl whenever she saw me.
Fast forward to three years later, she had a heart attack and died. It was rough on my ex husband and I was there for him every step of the way. When we were cleaning out her old house he found some leftovers and took them home. He froze it and saved eating it for when he was finally ready to “let go.”
But despite my best efforts, my ex husband became vicious towards me. Constantly picking fights, calling me demeaning names, telling me I need to lose weight (despite knowing I have body dysmorphia) it was rough for me but I have him pass after pass due to losing his mother.
That was until about 18 months later when I had a miscarriage, I called and texted him, telling him I had a miscarriage and he completely ignored me. I was in the hospital alone and sobbing without my husband’s support. When I got home and he finally heard the news he said, “oh” and went to take a shower. That broke me.
After my miscarriage I was a mess and my husband was no where to be found. He was always out “working late” specifically on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s. I suspected infidelity but figured it was my overactive imagination. That was until my best friend texted me and told me she saw my husband with another woman at a restaurant she worked at.
I couldn’t believe it and needed to see it for myself, so the next time a Tuesday rolled around I staked out the restaurant, and low and behold there he was, with another woman. I got out of the car and started screaming at both of them (not my finest moment I know) and as I got closer I realized it was the woman who my former mother in law always wanted my husband to marry. Something inside me snapped, I went home and threw the pasta onto the driveway.
He came inside screaming at me demanding to know what was wrong with me, I simply responded, “I want a divorce.” And we never spoke again.
I know objectively what I did was wrong, but I’m not sorry. I would do things differently but I can’t feel any remorse for what I did. I can’t help but get some sick satisfaction from what I did to him. Hopefully I hurt him as much as he hurt me. What are your opinions? Did I over react? Here are a few comments on the story where it was originally posted:
