Twelve Years Ago, I Said I Do. Today, I’m Letting Go.

Twelve years ago today, my heart was so full it could’ve burst.

I had the man I loved standing next to me, crying during our vows because he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to call me his wife. We didn’t need a big ceremony or a crowd. We had our children, our parents, and each other. That was enough. We were enough. I remember how he looked at me—like he was in awe of the woman God had given him. The way his eyes softened when I smiled, the way his voice cracked when he said, “I do.” I felt like I was his entire world. And for a while… I was.

We couldn’t get enough of each other. We were always close. We looked forward to coming home after work, texting throughout the day like teenagers in love, promising each other how the night would end. I felt that love in my body. I felt it when I laid my head on his chest, listening to the heartbeat that made me feel safe, protected, chosen. I was his softness. He was my strength. And when he held me—I believed in forever.

I wore my wedding ring with so much pride.
I never took it off.
Not once.
Because it meant something.
It meant I belonged to someone who loved me.
It meant I had found my forever.

But now, twelve years later… on the same day we once celebrated love, I’m sitting in a hotel room by myself, trying to survive the reality that it’s all over.

We are divorcing.
We barely speak.
He avoids me in the house we once built together.
He’s told me—over and over again—that he doesn’t love me anymore.
And that… that’s a grief I can’t put into words.

This day used to mean something beautiful.
Even when we didn’t have much, we celebrated.
Dinner dates. Quiet nights in. Trips when we could afford it.
But we always honored it.
We honored us.

And now?
I woke up alone because I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him this morning. I didn’t want to pretend. I didn’t want to feel the weight of the silence. I didn’t want to face the man who once lit up when I walked in the room… now barely acknowledging me at all.

So I left.
I needed space to fall apart in private.
I needed to be somewhere I could grieve what this day used to mean.
Because today isn’t a celebration anymore.
Today is a goodbye.

I keep thinking about the good times—the laughter, the closeness, the feeling of being loved completely. And I’m trying not to get lost in the pain that followed. The arguments. The distance. The betrayals. The slow unraveling. The silence that grew between us. The emotional wounds I still haven’t healed from.

My heart isn’t okay today.
And maybe it won’t be for a while.

But I know one thing: I can’t keep loving someone who stopped loving me. I can’t keep waiting for him to remember who I was to him. I can’t keep giving my tears, my energy, my loyalty to someone who has already walked away in every way that matters.

He may not have packed a bag, but emotionally… he left me a long time ago.

So today, on what was supposed to be our anniversary, I’m making a different kind of vow.

I’m vowing to let go.
I’m vowing to stop begging for love.
To stop waiting for him to come back.
To stop sacrificing myself for someone who no longer sees me.

Today, I’m choosing me.

I’m investing in my healing, my growth, my peace.
I’m choosing faith.
I’m choosing God’s timing, even when it hurts.
And I’m choosing the woman I abandoned for so long while trying to keep a marriage alive.

She’s been waiting.
And today, I’m coming back to her.
Because this time…
She chose herself.

Quote:
“She let go, not because she stopped loving him—but because she finally realized she deserved to be loved in return.”

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