For a long time, I thought love meant compromise. I thought it meant standing by someone, even when their emotional walls left me feeling unseen. I thought it meant holding onto hope that one day, they would let me in. My marriage to Mark was a lesson—one that taught me more about myself than I could have ever imagined.

Mark and I weren’t doomed from the start. We had good moments. There was laughter, stability, and companionship. But beneath the surface, there was also distance. A quiet, persistent loneliness that crept in, filling the spaces where deep emotional connection should have been.

I didn’t recognize it at first. Or maybe I did, but I was willing to ignore it. Mark was kind, calm, and predictable—things I had craved after a past filled with instability. But over time, I realized that kindness without vulnerability is not intimacy. That calm without emotional depth is not connection. That predictability without engagement is not love—it’s just habit.

The moment I discovered Mark’s porn addiction wasn’t just about the addiction itself. It was about the secrecy, the avoidance, the refusal to have real conversations about what it meant for our relationship. It was the realization that I had spent years building a marriage with someone who would rather turn to a screen than turn to me.

I asked him to face it. To face himself. To be honest about his struggles and let me in. Instead, he shut me out further. He didn’t want to change. Or rather, he was terrified of what that change would require of him.

So I fought for us. I begged. I reasoned. I pushed. And for every step I took toward him, he took two steps back. Until finally, he said the words:
“I want a divorce.”

At first, I thought it was a moment of clarity for him. That he had realized he didn’t love me enough to fight for our marriage. But now I see the truth—he didn’t leave because he didn’t love me. He left because I expected more from him than he was willing or able to give.

1. You Can’t Force Someone to Heal
   I wanted Mark to grow, to evolve, to meet me where I was. But healing has to be a choice. You can’t drag someone toward self-awareness. You can’t love someone into change. They have to want it for themselves. Mark never did.
2. Avoidance is Not Indifference
   For a long time, I thought Mark didn’t care enough about me. But looking back, I see it differently. He cared. He just didn’t know how to show it. His avoidant nature wasn’t about not feeling—it was about fearing. Fearing confrontation. Fearing vulnerability. Fearing the depth of emotional intimacy I craved.
3. A Relationship Should Feel Safe, Not Lonely
   I spent years excusing the emotional distance between us. I told myself that maybe I was asking for too much. That maybe this was just how marriage worked. But I know better now. A relationship should feel like home. Not a house you’re trying to fix, not a waiting room for a love that never fully arrives.
4. If Someone Leaves, Let Them
   Mark wasn’t willing to do the work. And that’s okay. I used to think that meant I wasn’t enough. But now I see it clearly: He wasn’t enough for me. And instead of being angry about that, I’ve learned to be grateful. Because his leaving made space for me to find something better—not necessarily in another person, but in myself.

Leaving Mark wasn’t just about walking away from a marriage. It was about walking toward something greater—toward a life where I no longer settle for half-hearted love. Where I no longer pour energy into people who can’t pour back into me.

Now, I’m preparing for something new. A journey that doesn’t involve shrinking myself to fit into someone else’s emotional limitations. A life that isn’t about waiting for someone to finally choose me.

Mark once told me he would always love me in some way. And maybe he will. But I’ve realized that doesn’t mean much if he was never willing to fight for me.

So, I’m closing the door. Fully. Finally. And I’m walking toward the unknown—toward adventure, toward possibility, toward a future where I am chosen, fully, without hesitation.

Because this time, I’m choosing myself first.