Hello everyone! Hannah is here. This is a difficult story to convey, but I feel compelled to. I’m a 38-year-old mother of two lovely children (ages seven and five), and I’ve been married to my husband, Luke, for over a decade. We’ve faced our fair share of difficulties, as do all couples. But something happened on our recent trip to Mexico that stunned me more than anything else we’ve experienced.

Now pretend we’re in Mexico, surrounded by beautiful beaches and weather. I was quite thrilled about this vacation. I had methodically prepared everything because, let’s face it, as a mother, I seldom had a break.

We intended to reconnect, unwind, and simply enjoy each other’s company during this time. However, Luke had been acting strangely from the outset. Every time I requested that he take a photo of me, he brushed it aside.

“I’m not in the mood,” he’d reply. “Can we do it later?” At first, I didn’t think much about it. Perhaps he was merely exhausted from his travels? But it kept happening.

We were on this lovely beach, and I was wearing a new outfit I had purchased specifically for the vacation. I felt positive about myself, which is unusual these days after having two children. I asked Luke, “Can you take a picture of me with the sunset?”

He groaned and said, “Not now, Hannah.”

I scowled, feeling a little wounded. “Why not?” It’ll only take a second.

“I said I’m not in the mood,” he said, moving away.

That hurt. We’re on vacation, and he can’t stop to take a picture? I felt humiliated and puzzled.

Throughout the journey, I saw him being especially careful about his phone. When I went by, he’d hide the screen and carry it with him, even to the restroom. My instinct told me something was wrong, but I attempted to ignore it.

One afternoon, Luke was in the shower, and I noticed his phone on the bed. My heart raced as I lifted it up. I know it’s immoral to invade someone’s privacy, but I needed to know. I instantly unlocked his phone and accessed his most recent messages.

There it was—a group chat with his buddies. And what I read made my blood turn cold. He wrote, “Imagine, people, despite her weight, she still wants me to photograph her! Where would she fit into the picture? She has undergone significant changes since giving birth.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I felt unable to breathe. This was the man I loved, the father of my children, speaking such hurtful things behind my back. I thought we were partners, and he loved me for who I am, but now he’s insulting me to his buddies.

I returned his phone and sat there in disbelief. How could he? I felt crushed and deceived. Our marriage wasn’t great, but I never dreamed he thought so little of me. I sobbed silently, not wanting the children to hear.

After a while, my tears dried up, and I felt something else: rage. I was not going to let him get away with it. I needed to teach him that his remarks had repercussions. That’s when I had an idea.

I took out my phone and scrolled through the images I had shot throughout the trip. I chose the finest ones and shared them on Facebook with the message, “Looking for a new vacation partner.” “Am I really so unattractive that even my husband refuses to photograph me?”

Almost immediately, the post began receiving likes and comments. My friends and even some acquaintances responded with encouraging remarks. They applauded my images, calling me attractive, and expressed surprise at Luke’s actions. I didn’t specify what he said, but the message was clear.

When Luke got out of the shower, he saw that my mood had changed. “Everything okay?” he said, perhaps detecting the strain.

“Just peachy,” I said without glancing up from my phone. I was still frustrated and upset, and I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with him.

The next day, I was still reeling from Luke’s treachery. I couldn’t get over the things he’d said about me. But then something happened, adding another dimension to this already complex scenario.

Just before our vacation, I received word that my uncle, whom I’d never seen, had died and left me a large estate.

I had intended to tell Luke about this on our trip, hoping it would be a pleasant surprise. But after finding out what he actually thought of me, I chose to keep it to myself.

That morning, Luke received word from his mother, who had learned of the bequest. I was in the process of packing our things, preparing to cut the trip short, when Luke stepped in with a bouquet of flowers.

He had this embarrassed expression on his face, one I’d seen a few times before when he realized he had made a mistake.

“Hannah, I’m so sorry for everything,” he said, handing out the flowers. I accepted them silently, waiting to hear what he would say next.

He said, “I know I’ve been a jerk. I should not have uttered such things. But, honey, with your newfound wealth, you can hire a trainer and lose weight.

I could not believe my ears. Did he really believe an apology would suffice, followed by a request that I spend my inheritance to alter myself for him? I was filled with wrath and said, “Maybe I will, Luke. However, it’s not for the purpose of attracting your attention.

The expression on his face was priceless. He’d expected me to just forgive him and go on. But I was finished. I had reached a breaking point. “Luke, I’m divorcing you,” I replied calmly, despite the agony within me.

His eyes expanded, leaving him dumbfounded for a while. Then, to my amazement, he started crying. “Please, Hannah, don’t leave me,” he implored. “I’ve already informed my friends that I intended to purchase a new SUV for off-roading, but now, without your financial support, all my plans are in jeopardy.”

I was astonished. It was then that I realized how little he appreciated me. It wasn’t about our relationship or family; it was about what my money could provide for him. I gazed at him with both sympathy and resolve.

“You seem to value my money more than I do. Find another way to buy your SUV without my money or shame. Goodbye, Luke.

I walked away from him, feeling both relieved and sad. This was not my dream life, but I needed to take control of my happiness.

I spent the rest of the day preparing to come home and begin the divorce procedure. My friends and relatives continued to show me their support. Each comment and communication boosted my confidence and trust in my own value.

I understood I didn’t need someone like Luke to affirm my attractiveness or importance. I was enough, exactly the way I was. I chose to go on with my life, focusing on my children and myself.

In the days that followed, I began exercising, not because Luke encouraged it but because I wanted to feel better and stronger. I pursued new activities, spent more time with friends, and even pondered returning to school.

One day at the mall, I ran into Luke. He stunned me with a partial complement. “Hey! Hannah, I nearly did not recognize you. You look different. How are you and the kids doing?

“We’re doing great,” I responded, not wanting to prolong the topic.

“Hannah, I’ve been meaning to ask you if…”

“I am running late, Luke. I need to be somewhere. “Excuse me,” I said before departing. From the corner of my eye, I noticed perplexity and agony in his normally serene and confident countenance.

But it didn’t bother me anymore, since I could now live my life on my own terms and be content in my own flesh. Rather than lamenting my failed marriage, I was ready to move on with strength and self-love.

So, what do you think? Did I handle things right, or was my reaction a touch too extreme?