Feeling trapped...

Sometimes I sit in my car for a few extra minutes before going back inside. It’s not like there’s anything waiting for me in there that I don’t already know—dinner needs to be made, the kids are probably arguing over something ridiculous, and my husband will be in his usual spot, watching TV or scrolling on his phone, barely noticing I’ve come back. It’s not that he’s a bad man. He’s never been abusive, never been mean, never done anything that would make people say I should leave him. But he also doesn’t do anything. No affection, no deep conversations, no laughter that isn’t forced. Just routine, the same boring loop we’ve been stuck in for years. And I hate that I sound ungrateful, because he works hard, he provides for all of us, and I know plenty of women have it worse. But does that mean I’m just supposed to accept that this is it? That life is just chores and parenting and making sure everyone else is okay while I slowly feel like I’m disappearing?

I wasn’t always like this. I used to be fun, I used to have dreams. I wanted to travel, I wanted to do something creative, I wanted a marriage that actually felt like a partnership instead of just coexisting. But we had kids, and then another, and then another, and suddenly my entire identity became mom while my husband kept being... himself. He still has his job, his hobbies, his space, while I feel like my whole world has shrunk to the walls of this house. And I know, I chose to stay home. It made sense financially. His job pays well enough that I don’t have to work, and childcare would have eaten up most of anything I made anyway. But now, years later, I see the trap I walked into. I have no career, no financial independence, and no way out even if I wanted one. If I left, how would I support myself? How would I support them? And I don’t even know if I want to leave. That’s the worst part. It’s not like there’s someone else. It’s not like I think divorce would magically fix everything. But I also don’t know how to spend the rest of my life feeling like this—like I’m just existing instead of living.

I’ve tried talking to him before. Told him I feel lonely, that I miss who we used to be, that I need something to break the routine. He listens, nods, says yeah, I get it—and then nothing changes. No date nights, no little surprises, no effort. Just the same routine, day after day, year after year. Maybe he thinks this is normal, maybe he’s fine with things the way they are, maybe he doesn’t even realize how much of me has faded away. And I don’t know what to do with that. I keep telling myself that once the kids are older, maybe I can find a job, maybe I can get back some piece of myself that I lost along the way. But what if by then it’s too late? What if I wake up at 50 and realize I wasted all my years waiting for a life that was never gonna come? I don’t know the answer, and honestly, I don’t know if there is one. All I know is I’m feeling trapped, and I don’t know how to break free.

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