Hi everyone, Hannah here. This story isn’t easy to share, but I think I need to. I’m a 38-year-old mom of two wonderful kids, seven and five, and I’ve been married to my husband, Luke, for nearly a decade. Like any couple, we’ve had our ups and downs, but something happened recently that shook me to my core.
We were on a long-awaited trip to Mexico, something I’d meticulously planned. Between kids, work, and daily life, I rarely get time for myself, let alone time for us to reconnect as a couple. This vacation was supposed to be our chance to relax, enjoy each other’s company, and rekindle our connection. But almost from the moment we arrived, I could sense something was off with Luke.
At first, it was small things. I’d ask him to take a photo of me, something I rarely do, especially on this trip where I felt good for a change. I’d even bought a new dress, excited to capture a moment by the beach. But every time, he brushed me off, saying he “wasn’t in the mood.” I reasoned that he was just tired from traveling. But the same thing happened the next day and the day after that. It started to feel strange and hurtful.
One evening, as the sun was setting beautifully over the water, I asked him once more, thinking he’d understand how special this was. He snapped, “Not now, Hannah,” and turned away. Embarrassed, I brushed it off, though a knot formed in my stomach. Something just didn’t feel right.
Then there was his phone. He took it everywhere—even to the bathroom—and turned the screen away whenever I came near. My instincts told me something was wrong, but I pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to believe he’d hide anything from me.
One afternoon, while he was in the shower, I saw his phone lying on the bed. I knew it was wrong to invade his privacy, but my gut was screaming for answers. Heart pounding, I unlocked it and scrolled through his messages. What I found shattered me.
In a group chat with his friends, he’d written, “Can you believe at her weight, she still wants me to take pictures of her? Where would she even fit in the photo? She hasn’t been the same since giving birth.”
The words were like a punch to the gut. This man, my husband, the father of our children, was mocking me to his friends in a way that made me feel worthless and humiliated. My mind raced. We’d been through challenges, sure, but I never imagined he thought so little of me.
I put the phone down, trying to process what I’d read. I sat there, numb, feeling the weight of betrayal and sadness. But as the initial shock wore off, anger took its place. I knew I had to confront this in my own way.
So, I opened my own phone and looked through the pictures I’d taken by myself. I posted my favorite ones on Facebook with a caption that read, “Looking for a new vacation partner. Am I really so unattractive that even my husband won’t take pictures of me?” My friends and even casual acquaintances flooded the post with support, calling me beautiful, expressing their shock at Luke’s behavior, and lifting me up in ways I needed.
When Luke got out of the shower, he noticed my mood had shifted. “Everything okay?” he asked, sensing the tension in the room. I responded coldly, not ready to discuss what I’d found.
The next day,
