I always thought marriage was sacred.
I believed it meant love. Safety. Commitment.
I thought it meant partnership, honesty, and shared dreams.

How wrong I was.

For me, marriage wasn’t a sanctuary.
It was a trap.
A prison with invisible bars.
A life sentence I never truly consented to — not with my heart, not with my soul.

I didn’t choose marriage.
Marriage chose me.

Or perhaps, more truthfully, I was groomed into believing it was what a “good” woman should do. Conditioned to see it as the ultimate goal. Trained to view saying yes as the measure of my worth, of my desirability, of my success in life.

But no one tells you what to do when that sacred space becomes a cage. When the person who promised to love and protect you becomes the very source of your pain. When the vows you took seriously — with your whole heart — are met with betrayal, indifference, or even cruelty.

The Myth of the Safe Marriage

We are raised on fairytales that end with weddings.
We’re taught that marriage is the reward. The finish line. The guarantee of being chosen, of never being alone.

What we are not taught is that sometimes marriage is not a happy ending.
Sometimes, it’s the beginning of erasure.

I took my vows seriously.
No infidelity.
No cheating.
No lies.

I showed up fully, honestly, and with loyalty in my heart.
But here’s the truth no one wants to say out loud: being faithful does not guarantee being treated fairly. Loving someone with all your might does not ensure you will be loved in return.

Marriage is not a fair exchange for everyone. For some, it becomes a contract of submission — an expectation to endure, to stay quiet, to make excuses, to forgive endlessly.

That isn’t love.
That’s sacrifice.
And sacrifice, when demanded rather than chosen, becomes servitude.

“Never Again”

When I say never again, it’s not bitterness.
It’s clarity.

It’s not that I don’t believe in love anymore — I do.
But I will never again believe that love should come at the cost of my freedom.
That commitment should silence my voice.
That vows should bind me to suffering.

Marriage — real, healthy, mutual marriage — is not for the faint of heart.
But surviving a toxic one? That takes a strength most people will never understand.

Saying no more when the world says “stay” is not failure. It’s freedom.
Walking away from vows that were never honored by the other is not giving up. It’s finally choosing yourself.

Rewriting the Narrative

Now, I get to redefine love.
I get to choose peace over performative partnership.
I get to value truth over tradition.

And if I am ever to share my life again, it will not be out of obligation, desperation, or illusion. It will be from a place of wholeness.
Because I have lived the version of marriage that many are too afraid to speak about — and I survived it.

I once believed that saying “I do” would protect me.
What I’ve learned is that the only real protection is in saying no when something doesn’t feel right.
In walking away from what wounds.
In knowing your worth so deeply that no title, ring, or tradition can ever define you again.

A Final Word for Those Who Know

To anyone who reads this and nods quietly — who understands this grief not as theory, but as lived experience — I see you.

You were never weak for wanting love.
You were never foolish for hoping it would be different.
But you are brave — so brave — for surviving the truth of what marriage was for you.

And even braver for saying: never again.