When he did come home that night, it wasn’t to talk—it was to vent. He said I’d turned his family against him, that I wasn’t the same woman he’d married. Then he told me to pack my things and leave.
So I did.
But I made one thing clear: the kids were staying. Whichever parent stayed in the house would take on the full responsibility of caring for them. If he wanted to take the lead, he was welcome to it.
That was the moment reality hit him. He didn’t argue. He didn’t step up. He just wanted things to stay easy and familiar.
I filed for divorce.
Today, I have full custody. The house is mine. And child support arrives each month, right on time. But the best part? Peace. The kind of peace that comes from standing up for yourself and no longer carrying the weight of two parents alone.
Do I regret it? Not for a second. I didn’t just turn the tables—I reclaimed my place at them.