He Chose Happiness. I Chose Me.

I’m proud of myself. I haven’t cried in four days.

That might not sound like much, but for me, it’s a significant milestone.

Because honestly? I’m tired of crying. I know it’s part of the healing process—letting emotions out—but I’m emotionally drained.

Lately, I’ve started to feel something unexpected: relief. Not because it doesn’t hurt anymore, but because my heart is beginning to accept that it’s truly over.

It’s tough getting over someone you see every day. Last night, I found myself watching him sleep. For the first time, I didn’t see “my husband.” I just saw a man.

I wasn’t angry or bitter. Just still.

I thought about everything we’ve been through—the good times, the bad. We supported each other through some of the hardest moments in our lives. We held on to each other for emotional support, and we loved each other deeply.

We were different. I was his softness; he was my strength.

In that moment, I felt a wave of vulnerability:

Who will be my strength now?
Who will protect me?
Who will love me?
Will I be alone forever?

It stings knowing he has options. I don’t. I didn’t have a backup plan because I valued our marriage.

But then, I heard God’s voice, gentle and reassuring:

“Girl… you don’t need him. I got you.”
“I’ll be your strength. I’ll carry you when you have no strength left. I’ll bless you. I’ll keep you focused. You will be okay.”

And in that moment—I believed Him.

This morning, as we rose to start the day, he reached out and held me—softly, gently, for a few minutes. It felt so good... but different. It wasn't sexual; it felt like love. It felt like my husband. It felt like my forever.

In that embrace, I felt seen. I felt his presence, his attention, his protection. His scent enveloped me—oh, how I missed the smell of his body close to mine. He held me tightly, reminding me of all the days when his hugs got me through. I depended on his touch to soothe me; it could make anything better, even after he had emotionally hurt me.

That hug held so many unspoken words—it was a sorry. It was an I love you. It was an it's over but I love you.

I broke the hug because I felt myself becoming vulnerable, hoping he would change his mind about leaving. Hoping he would tell me he is still in love with me. Hoping he would still want to be married and be my forever.

But reality set in. He is still leaving. He is just having a soft moment. He does not want to spend his life with me; he wants to live his life on his own terms, without our family. Plain and simple—he is not choosing me.

As I felt my strength returning, I left his embrace, proud of myself for being realistic about the situation. Proud of me for not crying. Proud of me for being strong. Proud of me for not breaking. Proud of me for... she chose herself this time.

I want my husband to be okay too. I admire him for ending this. He chose happiness. He chose himself. He chose a future that suits his needs. I would have stayed, and we would have just been miserable together.

But he doesn’t love me anymore, and I want him to find someone he loves and who loves him back. I love him that much.

Now, I’m looking forward to getting to know myself—what I love, what I want. I’m excited about this new chapter because I won’t let myself down.

I’m choosing me. I’m choosing to love myself. I believe that God has a bright future in store for me.

“Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is let go with grace.”

With love and truth,
💔 Aria Monroe 💗
Healing in real time. Choosing herself on purpose.