I Never Knew... Until Now

I’ve been thinking a lot about what marriage meant to me. Marriage, to me, meant being chosen. Not just once—but every single day. It meant I had a partner. A best friend. Someone to come home to… someone who wanted to come home to me. Someone to laugh with, cry with, grow old with. Someone to whisper secrets to at night. Someone who wanted to know my heart and touch my soul. Someone who reached for my hand without me asking.

Marriage was supposed to be safe. Intimate. Unbreakable. It was supposed to be late-night laughs, shared dreams, forehead kisses, the way our bodies just knew each other. It was supposed to be his hazel eyes looking into mine like I was his whole world. It was supposed to be knowing that no matter what happened outside those walls—we had each other. We were home.

And now… I miss that home.

I miss the friendship the most. The way we could laugh about the same stupid things. The way I used to save funny reels just for him. The way we’d talk about our days like no one else was listening. I miss venting to him about work. I miss hearing the random things that made him laugh. I miss the way he used to hold me when I was afraid, like during thunderstorms or after a hard day. I miss sitting across from him at dinner. I miss knowing I had someone to call. Someone who cared.

I miss the way he used to see me.

But I don’t cry like I used to. Not because it doesn’t hurt—but because I think God stepped in and started to carry the pieces of my broken heart for me. He heard my prayers—the ones I whispered in the dark when no one else knew I was barely hanging on. And slowly… He’s helping me let go.

I try not to be around my husband now. Not because I hate him—but because I don’t trust myself around him. My heart is still soft when it comes to him. My love didn’t die the way his did. So I protect myself. I avoid his eyes, even though he barely makes eye contact anymore. He doesn’t come near me. He doesn’t cross any emotional lines. He’s made it clear—he’s already gone.

And somehow… that hurts less than the in-between ever did.

But the loneliness? It’s real. It’s heavy. It sneaks up on me in the quiet moments—when no one’s checking in, when no one’s asking how I’m doing, when I have to lift the heavy groceries by myself or lie to the kids about why I’m sad. I’m still trying to adjust to doing everything alone. Still trying to convince myself I don’t need to be protected anymore. Still learning how to stand in the silence and not crumble.

I’m learning to love myself in the absence of someone else’s love. I’m learning to be enough—even when it doesn’t feel like it. I’m learning to give myself the care I always hoped someone else would give me.

And yes, I’m scared. Terrified, even. I’m scared of not being supported—emotionally, financially, physically. I’m scared of being alone for the rest of my life. I’m scared I’ll never be held the way I used to be. I’m scared no one will ever look at me again the way he once did.

But even in that fear… I’m fighting.

Fighting to believe I am still worthy.
Fighting to believe I’m still lovable.
Fighting to believe that even if no one else chooses me—I can still choose myself.

I never knew choosing myself would break my heart this deeply. I never knew how much I had abandoned myself trying to save us. I never knew how much I relied on him for happiness I should have been giving myself. I never knew how long I’d been loving someone else from an empty cup. I never realized how invisible I had become—to him, and to myself.

But now… I see it all clearly.
Now, I have no choice but to choose me.
Because this time... she chose herself.

“She broke her own heart to save her soul.”

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