Hi, I’m Lena, 41. Until a year ago, I thought I had a happy marriage with Derek, my childhood sweetheart. We have two kids, Ella, 16, and Noah, 12, and a home full of memories.
Looking back, I realize I’d been slowly eroding myself without noticing. It started with “jokes” about my appearance—teasing that became the only thing Derek said, while compliments disappeared. When I suggested couples therapy, he laughed: “Therapy can’t fix gravity,” implying I was falling apart.
Then I discovered his affair with Tanya, a 29-year-old wellness influencer. Derek defended himself, blaming me for “stopping trying.” That night, I told him to go live with her—and he did, leaving our family behind.
The first weeks without him were painful, but slowly, I started reclaiming myself. I took morning walks, smiled genuinely, and joined a painting class, where I met Mark, a kind widowed teacher who helped me remember my worth.
Meanwhile, Derek’s life fell apart: Tanya left him, his savings dwindled, and he even suffered a bad Botox reaction. When he reached out later, I let him collect his things, feeling an unexpected peace.
A year later, I’m thriving—living fully, raising my kids, and finally seen for who I am—while Derek deals with the consequences of his choices.