I Will Never Forget

There are some wounds you don’t see — but you carry them every single day.

I will never forget how it felt to be betrayed.
To be cheated on… even within the sacred boundaries of marriage.

I was a present mother.
I worked.
I took care of our home.
I went beyond what anyone would expect of a wife.
I gave my all.

Yet still, I was cheated on.

Not just once. Not even twice.
But for years — three long, soul-crushing years.

I was lied to deliberately.
Manipulated.
Gaslit into believing it was all my fault.
And the most heartbreaking part?
I believed it.

So I made amends.
I lowered myself to beg.
Begged for the cheating to stop.
Begged for our family to be whole again.

But it didn’t stop.

He chose himself — again and again.
While I was left to raise our child alone.
To hold it all together, quietly breaking on the inside.

I was humiliated.
By him.
By his family.
By her.

They knew — and they didn’t care.

But today, I'm writing this from a place of strength, not sorrow.

Because I made it through.
I found pieces of myself in the pain.
And I put them back together, stronger than ever.

I now know my worth.
And I will never allow that kind of betrayal, disrespect, or pain into my life again.

Not for me.
Not for my child.

This story isn’t about revenge.
It’s about rebirth.
About turning the worst chapter of your life into the beginning of your comeback.

I will never forget.

Not because I hold bitterness,
but because remembering reminds me of what I overcame.

I was betrayed —
even within the sacred vows of marriage.
I stayed present.
I worked.
I poured my heart into being the best mother I could be,
and more than what any role could define for a wife.

And yet, I was lied to.
I was made to feel that the cracks were my fault.
And for a while, I believed them.

So I tried harder.
I made amends I shouldn’t have had to make.
I begged for loyalty that should’ve come freely.
Still, the betrayal continued —
not just for days or weeks, but for years.

I was left to carry the weight of parenthood,
of silence, of humiliation —
from him, from others, even from someone who knew I existed.

I will never forget…
because it was in those moments of abandonment and pain
that I discovered a version of myself I never knew existed.

A woman who could rise.
A mother who could stand alone, fiercely and wholly.
A heart that chose to heal rather than harden.

Now I carry my scars not as shame,
but as symbols of strength.

I will never forget —
not because I want to relive the past,
but because I want to honor the strength it took to leave it behind.

I am no longer the woman who begged to be chosen.
I am the woman who chooses herself —
and protects her peace, her child, and her future.