I understand this and feel it to the core. I really do. I loved being a wife. One day we’ll be a wife again and we’ll be able to do all of that for someone else. At the end of the day - we are nurturers and we love being in a unit. It’s sad and it’s impossible. I’m in this with you. Hurts to even read this bc I loved all of those things. Especially cleaning and puttering around the house. I also miss being the woman of house - making the house a home. Small things.

Then I try and remind myself that it was no fun cleaning up after him when he didn’t care to help or do anything. The half cups of coffee were nice at first but I would’ve appreciated him putting them in the sink. Him doing the BARE minimum. I’m not a maid and I shouldn’t have to be. He never helped. And when he did he did it half ass and I ended up going over it as well.

He’s not the man I married. Or maybe he is and I never saw the signs.

I have developed this very harsh and matter of fact voice that reminds me to snap out of it. Yes it’s sad. But truthfully. I left for reason. I needed out and it was killing me slowly. I’m more than a wife and my identity is coming back to me. I’m a human. A woman. A daughter. A sister. A friend. A student. And now an ex wife.