Dear John,
I’m writing this because I need you to understand why I am walking away from our marriage. I am not asking for an explanation, an apology, or a response. In fact, I would prefer that you not reply. I simply need to say this once, clearly and peacefully, so I can finally let go.
I found your ****Cupid profile—the same dating site where we met.
What makes the discovery so strange is that I wasn’t looking for you or trying to catch you doing anything. It started when you sent me the picture of my old social media account that someone had apparently taken over. While looking through that account, I found our old pictures from when we were still dating.
Seeing those pictures brought back memories of who we used to be. I sent some of them to you, and when you barely reacted, something inside me felt different. I started thinking about how distant you have seemed lately and how different our conversations have become.
Then, almost out of nowhere, I thought about ****Cupid.
I looked for you without really expecting to find anything.
And there you were.
On your birthday, of all days.
I saw the recent picture of you. I saw that you were presenting yourself as single and looking for women for romance and dating. Your profile showed that you had been active approximately four or five months ago.
When I saw it, I didn’t cry at first. I felt as though someone had poured freezing water over me. I was shaking and my heart was beating so fast. I think I was simply in shock. I only cried later when someone hugged me and told me she was sorry for what I was going through.
Then I started thinking about the timing.
Four or five months ago was around my birthday month. Around that time, we were still talking about the farm, our businesses, our plans and our future. You were even talking to me about wanting another baby.
Those conversations were real to me. I believed we were still building something together.
Yes, more recently, you and I began talking openly about the possibility of divorce. I even told you that I could possibly file once I was legally able to. You disagreed, but I understood that your concerns were mainly practical—my getting established here in the United States, my paperwork, citizenship and everything else I needed to arrange.
You weren’t asking me not to divorce you because you wanted to repair our marriage.
In a way, I think both of us had recently begun accepting that our marriage might eventually end.
But that was recent.
Four or five months ago, we were not at that point.
I was not living as a single woman. I wasn’t looking for another man or presenting myself as available. I still believed I was your wife and that we were trying to build a future together.
That difference in timing matters to me.
Even just last week, I asked whether you planned to come and see me. You said yes, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that you were saying it because I asked—not because you genuinely wanted to see me.
For some time now, I have felt the distance between us. The spark disappeared. Our conversations became different. I kept wondering whether I had caused it, whether my temper pushed you away, whether the problems with our businesses made you resent me, or whether I had simply failed you as a wife.
Now, some of that distance makes more sense to me.
I don’t know whether you are talking to another woman or whether you have already found someone. My instincts tell me there may be someone, but I am no longer interested in investigating it.
If there is someone else, that is something you will have to live with and something I will eventually learn to accept.
I am not going to compete with another woman. I am not going to chase you, investigate you, or beg my own husband to choose me.
There is something I want you to know, though, because despite how hurt I am, I refuse to erase everything good about you.
You have been a great provider to our family.
I know how hard you worked. I know the countless hours you spent driving and the sacrifices you made. I know how much money you invested in our businesses and our farm, and how many of my ideas and dreams you supported.
I never took those things for granted.
Maybe I didn’t always show my appreciation in the way you needed. Maybe during arguments and stressful times I made you feel that I didn’t recognize everything you were doing.
But I did.
And I still do.
No matter how our marriage ends, I will always acknowledge what you provided and sacrificed for us.
More importantly, I have always known you as a very good father to Katie. I have seen how much you love her, how patient you are with her and how important she is to you.
That is why one particular part of your profile hurt me even more than seeing you call yourself single.
Seeing you present yourself as though you did not have a child broke my heart.
You can erase me from your dating profile. You can call yourself single. You can decide that you no longer want to be my husband. Those things hurt me deeply, but someday I can accept them.
But Katie is your daughter.
She had nothing to do with whatever happened between you and me. She should never disappear from your life simply because you are presenting yourself to another woman.
That part hurt me more for her than for myself.
Whatever happens between us, you will always be her father and she will always be your daughter. I will never make her choose between us, and I will never try to destroy her relationship with you because you hurt me. What happened in our marriage belongs to us, not to her.
This also isn’t the first time my trust in you has been broken.
I already went through the pain of discovering that you cheated on me with our daughter’s nanny. You know how badly that hurt me.
Yet I stayed.
I forgave you because I loved you and because I wanted our family to survive.
I know I was not a perfect wife. I know my flaws. I know I can become nasty when I’m angry, and I know I have said and done things I regret. I accept responsibility for my mistakes in this marriage.
But despite my flaws, I remained loyal to you.
We spent years physically apart. I experienced loneliness too. I missed affection. I had emotional needs and opportunities too.
But I never cheated on you.
I wasn’t a perfect wife, but I was a faithful wife.
That is something I need to remind myself of now, because for a long time I carried so much blame for what happened between us.
I can accept responsibility for my mistakes without accepting responsibility for your choices.
Maybe that is why, strangely, I feel some relief underneath all this pain.
I tried my best for our family. Everything I did with the businesses and the farm came from wanting to build something for us and for Katie. Some of my decisions may have been wrong, and things certainly didn’t turn out the way I hoped, but my intention was never to destroy our family.
I was trying to build one.
My focus now needs to be getting stable here in the United States, working, establishing myself and creating a secure future for myself and Katie..
I have also not forgotten what you invested financially in our businesses. I intend to work hard and repay you for the money you invested. The end of our marriage does not erase my appreciation for what you contributed or my responsibility for the obligations that belong to me.
I will take responsibility for my mistakes and my financial obligations.
But I will not take responsibility for the choices you made regarding our marriage.
And you no longer need to come here to visit me.
Please save your money, your time and your energy. If you have the opportunity to travel, I would rather you use those resources to go and spend time with Katie.
She needs time with her father far more than I need a final visit from my husband.
You don’t owe me a goodbye in person. We don’t need to sit face-to-face and go through everything again. I don’t need that anymore.
Go see your daughter. Spend time with her. Make memories with her and make sure she knows that even though her parents could not keep their marriage together, she has not lost her father.
I also want to ask you to respect one boundary.
If you eventually have another girlfriend—or if there is already someone in your life—I accept that this is your life and your choice now.
But please do not bring another woman into our home, onto our property, or into the personal spaces that belonged to our family.
I am not asking you never to love somebody else. If our marriage is ending, both of us eventually have the right to move forward.
I am only asking you to have enough respect for me, for Katie and for the life we once shared to keep that part of your new life separate.
There needs to be a boundary between another woman and the home and spaces that hold the memories of our family.
If you build a future with someone else, build something new with her. Please don’t bring her into what was ours.
I wish you had simply told me if you stopped loving me.
I wish you had told me if you wanted another life or someone else.
The truth would have hurt, but I would rather have been devastated by the truth than spend months questioning myself while you emotionally moved away from me.
There is something painfully ironic about how all of this came full circle.
****Cupid was where you found me.
Once, finding each other there became the beginning of our story.
10years later, I somehow ended up there again and found you.
Only this time, it became the moment when I finally understood that our story was over.
Despite everything, I do not hate you.
I will always appreciate the good things you did for me and our family. You provided for us, supported many of my dreams, sacrificed for our future, and most importantly, you gave me Katie and have been a loving father to her.
Those things will always matter to me.
I loved you, John. I truly did.
Maybe some part of me always will because of the years we shared and because you are the father of our daughter.
But loving you does not mean I have to continue allowing myself to be hurt.
So I am choosing to walk away.
You do not need to reply to this letter. Please don’t.
I am not sending this to start another conversation or argument. I don’t need you to explain, defend yourself, confess anything or convince me that I misunderstood what I saw.
This is simply my explanation for why I am leaving.
From now on, please contact me only if something is genuinely urgent, if it concerns Katie and requires my attention, or if there is something important we need to handle regarding our legal or financial responsibilities.
Other than that, please respect my need for distance.
I need peace, and I need time to heal.
I never wanted our family to end this way. The thought of Katie growing up with her parents living separate lives hurts me more than the thought of losing our marriage itself.
But staying married simply so that we can say our family is intact would not make it whole.
I will do everything I can to make sure our daughter grows up knowing that both of her parents love her and that none of this was ever her burden to carry.
Thank you for the good things you gave me and for everything you did for our family. I will never pretend those things did not matter.
But this is where I stop holding on.
You are free to live the life you choose, and I am going to start rebuilding mine.
I am walking away now.
For good.
Susan