Hello, folks. Hannah here. This isn’t easy to talk about, but I think it’s time. I’m a 38-year-old mom to two incredible kids, aged seven and five, and I’ve been married to Luke for almost ten years. Like any couple, we’ve encountered our share of challenges. However, our recent trip to Mexico left me stunned.

Picture this: We found ourselves in Mexico, where the beaches are breathtaking and the weather is perfect. I had been looking forward to this trip for a long time. As a mom, getting away doesn’t happen often, so I planned everything to a tee.

It was supposed to be an opportunity for Luke and me to relax, reconnect, and enjoy each other’s company. Unfortunately, something wasn’t right from the beginning. Every time I suggested he take a photo of me or with me, he found a way to brush it off.

He’d say, “I’m not in the mood,” or “Maybe later.” Initially, I assumed travel fatigue was to blame. Yet, this behavior persisted.

One evening, on a lovely beach, I wore a new dress I’d bought for the trip and felt unusually good about myself. Considering I was taking care of two kids, such moments were rare. Hoping to capture the sunset with my new look, I asked Luke, “Could you take a picture of me, please?”

“Not now, Hannah,” he sighed.

I felt a sting of disappointment. “Why not? It’ll just take a second,” I pleaded.

He snapped back, “I said I’m not in the mood,” turning away from me.

The refusal to take a vacation photo on such a beautiful day left me feeling embarrassed and bewildered.

There seemed to be something off throughout the trip. Luke guarded his phone like a hawk, hiding the screen from me and taking it everywhere, even to the bathroom. While I sensed something was wrong, I tried to ignore it.

Luke was in the shower one afternoon, and his phone was left on the bed. Though I knew it was an invasion of privacy, I couldn’t shake my curiosity and picked it up. My heart raced as I unlocked it and checked his recent messages.

Within a group chat with his friends, I found a message that made my blood run cold. He’d written, “Imagine, at her weight, she still wants me to take pictures! How would she even fit? She hasn’t been the same since having kids.”

I was overwhelmed with tears and felt like I couldn’t breathe. How could the man I love, the father of my children, say such unkind things behind my back? I thought we were partners, that he loved me for who I am, yet here’s evidence of mockery.

I quietly put his phone back and sat in shock. I wondered how he could do this to me. I felt crushed and betrayed. Our marriage had its rough patches, but I never imagined he thought so little of me. In silence, I cried, not wanting the kids to hear.

After the tears, another emotion emerged: anger. I couldn’t let him off the hook. I needed to make clear that his hurtful words had consequences. An idea came to mind.

I grabbed my phone and combed through the photos I had taken personally during the trip. I selected the best ones and posted them on Facebook with a candid caption: “Looking for a new vacation partner. Am I really so unattractive that even my husband doesn’t want to take pictures of me?”

Immediately, likes and comments began to roll in. Friends and even acquaintances showed support, praised my photos, and expressed shock at Luke’s actions. Without mentioning specifics, the message was clear.

When Luke reemerged from his shower, he sensed a shift in my mood. “Everything okay?” he asked, likely feeling the tension.

“Just peachy,” I said curtly, still hurt and unable to meet his gaze.

The following day, I couldn’t shake off the sting of Luke’s betrayal. His cruel words resonated in my mind. And then something unexpected happened, adding more complexity to the situation.

Just before our trip, I was informed that my uncle, whom I’d never met, had passed away and left a significant inheritance to me.

I had planned to surprise Luke with this news during our vacation, imagining it would be a moment of joy. But after learning what he truly thought of me, I chose to keep it secret.

As fate would have it, word of my inheritance reached Luke through his mother, who found out as well. I was halfway through packing to cut our trip short when Luke entered, holding a bouquet of flowers.

His sheepish grin was familiar; I had seen it before when his blunders caught up with him.

“Hannah, I’m so sorry for everything,” he began, extending the flowers. I accepted them silently, curious about his next words.

He continued, “I know I’ve been a jerk. I shouldn’t have said those things. But, with your new money, you could spend on a trainer, lose weight, and…”

His suggestion left me in disbelief. Could an apology be paired with unsolicited advice on changing myself for him? Overcome with anger, I retorted, “Maybe, but without needing your opinion.”

His expectation of instant forgiveness and moving on was apparent. Yet, I had reached my breaking point and said, “Luke, I’m divorcing you,” maintaining a steady voice despite inner turmoil.

His eyes widened, and he was at a loss for words for a moment. Unexpectedly, tears appeared as he begged, “Please, Hannah, don’t go. I’ve already told my friends I was buying an SUV for off-roading with them, and I can’t without your inheritance.”

The realization of how little he valued me dawned on me. It wasn’t our relationship or family but what my money could buy for him. As I looked at him, I felt pity and resolve.

“It seems like you love my money more than me. You can find another way to buy your SUV, but it won’t be with my money or at my expense. Goodbye, Luke.”

I left him then, a mix of relief and sadness flowing within me. This wasn’t the life I envisioned, but it was time to reclaim my happiness.

The remainder of the day was spent planning to return home and start divorce proceedings. Support poured in from friends and family. Every message and comment helped rebuild my confidence and self-worth.

I realized I didn’t need Luke’s validation of my beauty or value. I was enough, as I was. My focus shifted to my children and personal growth.

In the following days, I embarked on a fitness journey, not because of Luke’s comments but to feel healthier and stronger. I explored new hobbies, connected with friends, and even contemplated returning to school.

While shopping one day, I bumped into Luke unexpectedly. “Hey! I almost didn’t recognize you, Hannah. How are you and the kids?” he asked, seemingly surprised by my new appearance.

“We’re both doing great,” I replied, keeping the interaction brief.

Attempting to continue, Luke began, “Hannah, I’ve been meaning to ask if…”

“I’m running late, Luke. Excuse me,” I interjected, noticing his perplexed, pained expression as I moved away.

Seeing his reactions no longer affected me. I was free to live life on my terms and embrace my own identity. Rather than mourning my failed marriage, I chose to move forward with confidence and self-love.

So, what do you think? Did I handle things correctly, or was my reaction too extreme? How would you have reacted in my situation?