I Still Love Him. But I’m Learning to Love Me More.

There are days when it feels like I can’t get anything right. Not my marriage. Not my career. Not even my life. It’s like everything I touch eventually falls apart, and I’m left picking up the pieces, wondering if I’m the problem. I keep asking myself—when will I get something right?

I thought about my husband today. About how, nine years ago, I was ready to leave. I had finally reached my breaking point. And when I told him I wanted a divorce, he tried to take his own life. That moment haunted me. It made me question if leaving was the wrong decision. So I let him come back… because I loved him. Because I believed in his promise to change. But within two weeks, he was right back to being cold. Distant. Cruel. I regretted letting him come back almost immediately, but I stayed. I always stayed. And somehow, even now, he resents me for leaving him when he says he was at his lowest. But the truth is—I never left him without making sure he could stand on his own. He had a job, he could take care of himself. I would never abandon someone who couldn’t survive. That’s not who I am.

And now… I’m the one trying to survive.

Bills are drowning me. The mortgage is hanging over my head. I’m thinking about selling my house because I honestly don’t know how I’ll make it without a second job. I’m trying to stay afloat—for myself, for my kids, for a future I can’t even picture clearly right now. And meanwhile, the man I sacrificed for, the man I chose over and over again… acts like he couldn’t care less about how I’m doing. He did what was best for him. But when I tried to do what was best for me, I became the villain.

What hurts the most is that I still love him. And I hate that. I don’t know if I love him, or if I just love the idea of being married. Maybe I’m scared of being alone. Before I met him, I didn’t even want to be married again. I loved my freedom, my space. But now… I’ve grown used to partnership. To sharing life with someone. The crazy part is, we were never truly happy. Not really. We had good moments, but we lacked the foundation—communication, understanding, trust, patience, loyalty, grace. Love was never enough. It never is.

I know I need to get him out of my system. Out of my heart. Out of my head. Out of my life. And honestly… it is getting easier. Slowly. I still feel the sting of rejection every day, but I’m beginning to breathe through it. They say time heals all, and maybe it does. I just know I’m a work in progress. And that’s okay.

Because just like I once fell in love with him… I’m starting to fall in love with me. And this time, I want to love myself with everything I once gave away too easily. I want to love myself with patience. With compassion. With understanding and forgiveness. I want to give myself all the things I begged someone else to give me.

I know it took time to lose my confidence, so I’ll give myself time to build it again. I just hope that time comes soon, because I’m so ready. Ready to live. Ready to breathe without fear. Ready to come out from the shadows of sadness and truly be.

I’m ready to believe in myself again.
To look in the mirror and see beauty, not brokenness.
To feel worthy, even when no one is clapping.
To stop waiting to be chosen, and instead, choose me.

I want to have stronger faith. I want to believe that God has me in the palm of His hand and that every storm I’ve survived has a sacred purpose. I want to believe that the pain won’t last forever and joy is still possible. I want to believe in healing. In second chances. In a softer, safer love that starts within.

Because the truth is…
I still love him.
But I’m learning—slowly, painfully, beautifully—to love me more.
And this time…
She chose herself.

Quote:
“The love I gave away so freely—I’m learning to pour it back into me.”
💔💗✨

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