My spouse shocked me by refusing to take pictures of me while we were on vacation, but my retaliation made him cry.
Hannah here, hello to all of you. I feel compelled to tell this experience even if it is tough to do so. I’m 38 years old, a mother of two wonderful children (ages five and seven), and I’ve been married to my husband Luke for almost nine years. Like any couple, we have faced our fair share of difficulties. But I was stunned by something that occurred during our most recent trip to Mexico.
Envision ourselves in Mexico, encircled by breathtaking beaches and radiant weather. This excursion had me giddy with anticipation. Admittedly, I had meticulously planned everything since, well, I rarely get a break as a mum.
We had planned to rekindle our relationship, unwind, and simply enjoy each other’s company during this time. But Luke was acting strangely from the beginning. He would always say no when I asked him to take a picture with me or of me.
He might say, “I’m not in the mood,” or, “Can we do it later?” I didn’t give it much thought at first. Perhaps he was simply fatigued from the journey? However, it continued to occur.
I was wearing a new outfit that I had purchased especially for the trip, and we were on this gorgeous beach. It’s not often that I feel good about myself, especially with two kids and everything. “Can you take a picture of me with the sunset?” I requested Luke.
Sighing, he whispered, “Not now, Hannah.”
I scowled, a little offended. “Not at all? It will only require a moment.”
He glared, “I said I’m not in the mood,” and turned away.
That hurt. We’re on vacation, what gives him the excuse that he can’t stop and take a picture? I was perplexed and humiliated.
I saw that he was extra careful with his phone the whole trip. Every time I passed, he would conceal the screen and even carry it into the lavatory. I tried to ignore the feeling in my gut that something wasn’t right.
Luke was taking a shower one afternoon when I noticed his phone on the bed. The moment I picked it up, my heart raced. I had to know even though I know it’s immoral to violate someone’s privacy. I browsed his recent messages on his phone and unlocked it immediately.
A group chat with his friends was there. And my blood ran cold at what I read. “Imagine, guys, at her weight, she still wants me to take pictures of her,” he had written. In what part of the picture would she possibly fit? Since giving birth, she has changed completely.”
My eyes filled with tears, and I felt as though I was out of breath. Behind my back, this man—the father of my children and the man I loved—was saying such harsh things. I believed we were a couple and that he accepted me for who I am, but instead he was making fun of me in front of his pals.
I sat there in shock, putting his phone back. How was he able to? I was heartbroken and deceived. Even though our marriage was far from ideal, I never would have guessed he had such low regard for me. I cried in private so the kids wouldn’t hear.
My tears eventually stopped flowing, and I started to feel angry instead. I would not allow him to get away with this. I had to take action to demonstrate to him the repercussions of his statements. That’s when an idea came to me.
I pulled out my phone and looked through the pictures I had shot on the journey. I picked out the finest ones and shared them on Facebook with the message, “Searching for a new travel companion.” Is my appearance so unappealing that even my spouse is reluctant to have me photographed?”
The post started receiving likes and comments almost instantly. Several of my acquaintances and friends also sent encouraging remarks. They expressed their outrage at Luke’s actions and complimented my images, calling me lovely. I left out the details of what he said, but the point was made.
Luke realised my mood had changed as he got out of the shower. He inquired, presumably picking up on the tension, “Everything okay?”
I said, “Just peachy,” without taking my eyes off my phone. I was still hurt and angry, and I was too angry to look him in the eye.
I was still in awe over Luke’s betrayal the following day. The things he’d said about me stayed with me. However, something occurred that caused this already complex scenario to get much more difficult.
I had learned just before our vacation that my uncle—whom I had never met—had passed away and bequeathed a sizeable estate to me.
I thought it would be a happy surprise to tell Luke this news, so I had planned to do so during our trip. However, after learning the truth about his true feelings for me, I chose to keep it to myself.
Luke’s mother, who had learned about the inheritance, somehow passed the message to him that morning. I had just finished packing our things and was about to call the trip when Luke entered the room with a bouquet of flowers.
I had noticed his embarrassed expression on a few other occasions when he realised he had made a mistake.
“Hannah, I apologise so much for everything,” he said while extending the bouquet. I accepted them silently, waiting to see what more he had to say.
“I know I’ve been a jerk,” he went on. That was not the right thing for me to say. However, my dear, you can hire a trainer and drop some weight with your newfound wealth.”
My ears were unbelievable to me. Did he really think that an apology and a recommendation that I use my inheritance to make myself different for him would be enough? Outraged, I shot back, “Maybe I will, but without your advice.”
His expression was so precious. He thought I would simply forgive him and go on. But I had had enough. This was it—my breaking moment. “Luke, I’m divorcing you,” I stated, maintaining a calm tone despite my internal conflict.
His mouth dropped open as his eyes grew wide. Then he started crying, which surprised me. He pleaded, “Please, Hannah, don’t leave me.” “I’ve already told my friends I was planning to buy a new SUV to go off-roading with them, and now, without your money, all my plans are ruined.”
I was in disbelief. I realised then how little he thought of me. What my money could buy him was what mattered, not our bond or our family. I fixed a pitying yet determined glance on him.
You seem to cherish my money more than I do. You can get your SUV somewhere else, but you’re not going to use my money or make me look bad in the process. Luke, good bye.”
I left him then, feeling both strangely relieved and saddened at the same time. Though this wasn’t how I had imagined my life to go, I had to take responsibility for my happiness now.
The remainder of the day was devoted to organising my return home and initiating the divorce proceedings. My family and friends never stopped being there for me. I was able to reclaim my self-worth and confidence with the support of each message and comment.
I came to the realisation that I didn’t require Luke or anybody else to affirm my worth or beauty. I was sufficient in my own right. I made the decision to go on with my life and put my children and myself first.
In the days that followed, I began exercising because I wanted to feel stronger and healthier, not because Luke suggested it. I made more time for friends, picked up new interests, and even thought about returning to school.
I ran into Luke at the mall one day. He half-complimented me, which astonished me. “Hi! Hannah, I almost didn’t recognise you. You appear different. How are the kids and you doing?”
I said, “We’re both doing great,” not wishing to carry on the discussion.
“Hannah, I’ve been meaning to ask you if…”
Luke, I’m running late. I have to be somewhere. I apologise,” I replied as I turned to go. His normally composed, self-assured face was marred by sorrow and perplexity, as I could see from the corner of my eye.
But since I could finally live my life on my terms and feel confident in my own skin, that stopped bothering me. Instead of lamenting my failed marriage, I was prepared to go on with courage and self-love.
So, what are your thoughts? Did I respond appropriately, or did I go a bit too far in my response? In my position, what would you have done differently?
Here’s another story you might love if you liked this one: Eliza hopes that Tom will treat her to a romantic excursion for their tenth wedding anniversary. She converts it into a girls’ weekend when he needs to work and forgets their anniversary, only to discover that Tom’s business trip is actually a meeting with his mistress.
