MY HUSBAND WAS BULLYING ME IN A GROUP CHAT – AND HE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW I WAS SEEING IT.
I just wanted to send myself a recipe from Daniel’s phone because mine was low on battery. After all, we share everything… or at least that’s what I thought.
But when I opened WhatsApp, a notification of a new message caught my eye.
‘Honestly, married life ages a woman overnight. Have you seen how tired she has started looking? ’
My stomach clenched. Daniel had written this…in a group chat called ‘Guys.’ My hands went numb as I clicked on the chat.
The messages continued:
- ‘Bro, I remember she was hot. What happened to her?’
- ‘No way she’s only 42. She looks all of 50.’
- ‘LMAO, Daniel, well you’re tough. But it’s a fact.’
And then Daniel again:
‘Man, she gets mad when I go out, but she stays home and looks like this. What am I supposed to do?’
I clutched the phone so hard my knuckles turned white. It’s my husband. The man who once called me the most beautiful woman in the world. The man who promised to love me forever. And now he was laughing at me like I was just a joke.
And the worst part? His friends agreed with him. Not one of them stood up for me. Not one of them wrote, ‘Bro, that’s your wife.’ They just added fuel to the fire, making me a pathetic laughing stock.
I felt sick. I felt humiliation. Anger.
Daniel was in the shower and didn’t even realise I now knew how he felt about me. My fingers froze over the keyboard.
Reply directly in the chat room? Pretend I didn’t see anything? Or pack up and leave while he was still in the bathroom?
I took a deep breath. Leaving seemed like the right decision, but I wanted to leave him something to remember first.
I flipped through the gallery until I found a picture I’d taken a month ago, in the red lace lingerie I’d bought out of emotion but never put on for Daniel. Yes, my body had changed, but damn it, I still looked good.
I attached the photo and hit send.
Before they could react, I added one more – a shot of his stack of underwear. Specifically, the old, worn, hole-ridden boxers I’d been begging him to throw away for years.
And finally, the message:
‘It’s funny how you discuss my appearance when Daniel wears his pants like they’ve been chewed up by a lawnmower. Maybe if he spent less time mocking and more time being a husband, he’d actually deserve a woman who wants to look good for him.’
I hit send and closed the app without waiting for replies.
Daniel stepped out of the shower with a towel around his waist, whistling to himself. I stood at the dresser, arms crossed, eyeing him like a stranger in my own home.
He noticed my expression immediately.
What’s wrong?
I tilted my head.
‘Look at your phone.
Confusion flashed across his face as he unlocked the screen. I watched him read the messages, growing paler by the second.
What the…’ he muttered, browsing the chat room. His jaw tensed. – Why did you do that?
Why did I do that? – I chuckled briefly. – Why did you humiliate me in the chat room like I was some old woman not worthy of respect?
It was just a joke,’ he rubbed his temples.
A joke? – I interjected. – How exactly was I supposed to be amused?
He opened his mouth, but for the first time in a long time he had nothing to say.
That’s what I thought.
I should have been angrier, but watching him look for excuses changed something in me.
I realised I wasn’t just angry at him. I’m mad at myself. For putting up with years of watching our marriage slowly fade away. For letting myself disappear while he grew bolder in his disrespect.
Once upon a time, I tried for him. I dressed up, tried to be beautiful. And then I stopped. Not because I didn’t care, but because I stopped feeling noticed.
Why try if you can’t be seen?
But in that moment, I saw myself clearly. I wasn’t invisible. I was a woman who deserved better.
Daniel sighed heavily and sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his wet hair.
‘Yes, I screwed up. But you might not have sent that.
I snorted.
Oh, but you could have sent my pictures to your chat room, couldn’t you?
He flinched, but didn’t say anything back.
That’s when I realised. He wasn’t sorry. He was only sorry he’d been caught.
I can’t take it anymore, Daniel. – My voice was calm and firm. – I don’t want to be with a man who doesn’t respect me.
His head came up sharply.
Wait… Are you seriously talking about divorce over a joke?
I exhaled slowly.
It’s not just about the joke. It’s about everything. The way you always go out while I stay home alone. The way you look at me just to criticise me. The way I’ve felt like a flatmate instead of a wife for a long time now.
He shook his head.
It’s not fair.
Unfair? – I grinned bitterly. – You know what’s really unfair? Being married to a man who thinks it’s okay to humiliate me for laughs with his friends.
There was silence between us.
I waited. I hoped – perhaps foolishly – that he would fight for me. That he would say something to prove me wrong about him.
But he only pressed his lips tightly together and looked away.
That was my answer.
That night, I packed my bags.
Daniel tried to argue, but without much enthusiasm. I think deep down he knew that apologising wasn’t going to fix it.
When I left the house, I felt something I’d forgotten for years.
A lightness.
I moved in with my sister. Starting from scratch at 42 wasn’t easy, but you know what? It was worth it. I renewed old acquaintances, joined a gym and, most importantly, found myself again.
And most importantly? I realised that love – real love – isn’t just about looks. It’s about respect.
If you were once made to feel invisible – remember: you don’t have to stay where you are not appreciated.
If you’ve been undervalued? Remind them who they’ve messed with.
