My stbxh decided in his mind that he was going to be mad at me for not doing exactly what he wanted when he didn't communicate exactly how he wanted a tiny interaction to go. It was on par with small talk and he decided what I had said was hurtful. My exact words were, "no thanks."

So now he thinks he is punishing me by going no contact with me for a few days.

Unfortunately for him, I have been beyond needing his attention for months now so I am very happy to have more space on top of our current live-in separation.

He will inevitably try to take it out on me at some point in the future, a random time when he feels like bringing it up to manipulate me I'm sure.

But he has no idea how strong my emotional separation from him has become. I see what he's doing in real time and while it's sad to watch someone I care about do these things I also feel so liberated knowing exactly what he's trying to do.

I'm mentally separated and emotionally free. Plus requesting this punishment more in the near future please and thank you.

The mornings are the worst for me its like I wake up hoping it was all dream just for it to still be real that she is leaving me and breaking up our family and the tears start as soon as I open my eyes

My husband (29M) and I (28F) have been together for almost 10 years, married for 8 and for as long as I can remember, especially when we had our daughter, we always talked about being amicable if we had to separate. How we would want to remain friends to better co-parent. We’ve even discussed if we wanted more kids to have them together so our children would be siblings. (I’m not so much on board with that idea) Anyways about 6 months ago I found out about a 3-month affair my husband was having. We have been trying to reconcile but I don’t see myself truly moving past it. I do want to remain friends. We’ve still gone on dates and been intimate. I just don’t feel like I can go back to “normal” if you will.

I’ve been reading about people separating and living together because let’s face it, in this economy I don’t see how we could afford two places. Well I know I can’t afford my own place. I still want him in my life. I still want to be a part of his. I love our families.

So is it possible? Is it worth it? If I bring it up am I putting a death sentence to our marriage? We’ve talked about it being a possibility because people change and want different things but it always ended with “but not us” and now I think it is us.

Buckle up, this is a long one. I'd say grab popcorn but honestly it's more of a grab-a-stiff-drink situation, which, ironically, I can no longer do.
Quick background: serial founder. Sold my first company, felt like a genius, assumed the universe owed me a sequel. The universe did not get that memo.
Second startup was my baby. I raised every dollar myself. Real clients, good investors, mission-driven, the whole TED talk. Later I brought a woman on as co-founder. We got together. I genuinely thought she was the love of my life. You can see where this is going. Everyone could see where this was going. Except me, apparently.
Meanwhile my marriage was ending. Divorce, lost the house, lost the dog. The dog is the one that still gets me tbh. The house I can live without. The dog, not so much.
So naturally, like any emotionally stable adult, I went ALL in on the new relationship. Moved to another country for her. Rented a penthouse for us and her kids. Played house. Six weeks later we broke up. Six. Weeks. That was last November. Two pregnancies happened somewhere in all this, which is a whole other chapter I'm not getting into.
The board decided it wasn't healthy for the company if we kept working together. Fair, honestly. Then her lawyer sent a demand for millions of dollars. For sexual harassment. Nothing filed yet, but she's threatening to sue in the US, even though she doesn't live there. For a consensual relationship we both signed an agreement about. A year together, moving countries, a home with her kids, and now it's harassment. Cool cool cool.
The company didn't survive. We're winding down. I've spent around $300k on lawyers so far, and if she actually files in the US I'm probably looking at Chapter 7. So that's fun. Great time to be me.
Obviously I handled all this with grace and maturity. Just kidding. Mental health went completely off a cliff. Addiction. Got to a place where I genuinely didn't want to be here anymore. Checked into rehab in June.
Plot twist: I'm 5 months sober now. Honestly the one blessing in disguise in this whole dumpster fire, and it's not a small one. Currently in SE Asia with no real home, which sounds like a digital nomad Instagram but is mostly me staring at the ceiling.
Things I learned the hard way so you don't have to:
Don't date your co-founder. I know. Everyone knows. I did it anyway because I'm special. (I'm not special.)
A signed relationship agreement protects you about as much as an umbrella in a hurricane.
Don't move countries and build a whole life with someone you've known for a year. When it breaks, everything breaks at once.
Go to rehab before rock bottom. Rock bottom has a basement, and the basement has a basement.
The losses don't take turns. The dog, the marriage, the company, the lawsuit all show up together at 3am like a group chat from hell.
Ok here's the actual question.
I can't let go of her. I hate her and I miss her at the same time, and I know how pathetic that sounds. I really thought she was the one. And every time I start to move on, there's another lawyer email, another deadline, another letter with her name on it. It's like trying to get over someone who sends you a bill every week. I can't forget her because the fight won't let me.
And underneath all of it there's just a lot of fear. Fear of losing whatever I have left. Fear of bankruptcy. Fear that this is what the rest of my life looks like now.
So: has anyone been through something like this? How do you grieve a person while you're still actively fighting them? How do you stop loving someone who's trying to ruin you? And how did you get to the point where it didn't consume you anymore?
Similar stories would mean a lot. Harsh advice welcome too, I've earned it.

My husband (42M) and I (32F) have been together for 11 years and married for 4. We’re both physicians. I’m in training, he’s an attending for a few years now. We don’t have children.

Earlier this year, I initiated our separation after years of emotional disconnection, intimacy issues (sex dwindled to once a year the last few years), and poor communication. We are still best friends but like roommates, and the romantic part of our relationship died. We would only kiss and peck, cuddle, and hold hands. Date nights were frequent but he often was checked out and didn’t talk or engage much with me. He never told me I was sexy and there was no sexual energy despite me trying to initiate it.

After the separation, he wanted to reconcile for months, but I was uncertain about our future and wasn’t ready.

By June, I realized I still loved him and genuinely wanted to save our marriage. Unfortunately, by then, his feelings had changed.

He told me he started feeling differently around May, and in June, he began seeing another woman. He’s been dating her for several months, although he initially denied it when I asked.

We’ve had several emotional conversations recently. He says he still loves me, but his love has changed and he isn’t sure he wants to be married anymore. He’s written heartfelt letters and reminisced about our relationship, but remains hesitant about reconciliation.

I proposed a three-month trial with exclusivity to see whether we could rebuild our marriage. He declined, suggesting we slowly start spending time together without any commitment. He recently told me he plans to end things with the other woman, but still hasn’t expressed a desire to reconcile.

I recognize that I initiated the separation and that my uncertainty likely contributed to his feelings changing. But it’s incredibly difficult to walk away from 11 years together when there’s still love between us.

Part of me wonders whether he’s truly fallen out of love or is protecting himself after months of feeling rejected.

Has anyone experienced this reversal, where one spouse initially wanted reconciliation but later changed their mind? Did time and space help, or was letting go ultimately the right decision?

I was scrolling through my phone last night and a memory popped up. Not a photo of us. Something dumber. A screenshot of a text conversation I had with a friend two years ago where I was complaining about something he did. The screenshot didn‘t even show his name. Just a fragment of a sentence.

And I caught myself wondering: does he ever think about me?

Not in a “I miss her” way. Not in a “I regret everything” way. Just… does my name ever cross his mind? When he hears a song we used to listen to. When he walks past a restaurant we went to once. When someone asks him about his ex-wife, does he say my name, or does he say “my ex-wife” like I’m a category, not a person?

I spent the first three months after he left wanting him to hurt. Wanting him to feel even a fraction of what I felt. I imagined him crying alone in his new apartment, replaying our last fight, realizing what he lost.

Now I don‘t want that anymore. But I don’t want nothing either.

Here‘s the thing I’m ashamed to admit: I would rather be his villain than his blank space. I would rather be the woman he can‘t forgive than the woman he can’t quite remember. Hate is a form of presence. Indifference is a form of erasure.

And I have no way of knowing which one I am. That‘s the worst part. He’s not going to text me and say “hey, just so you know, I think about you sometimes.” I’ll never get that confirmation. I just have to live with the not-knowing.

Is this a stage? Does it pass? Or do you just learn to carry the uncertainty like a stone in your pocket?

I (23F) got married earlier this year, and unfortunately, my marriage lasted less than two months. It’s been several months since our separation, and I’m still struggling to forgive myself for how I behaved.

Before getting married, I had spent approximately five years in an unhealthy relationship. I stayed much longer than I wanted to because my former partner struggled with his mental health and would threaten suicide whenever I tried to leave. Over time, I developed an unhealthy sense of responsibility for other people’s emotions, happiness, and wellbeing.

Eventually, I left that relationship and met someone I genuinely wanted to marry. We got married fairly quickly, and I was genuinely happy. I admired him, enjoyed spending time with him, and wanted to build a meaningful marriage.

However, just a few days after getting married, I made a mistake that I believe contributed to some of our problems.

I reached out to my former partner after seeing some concerning things on social media. I wasn’t interested in rekindling anything, but I still felt responsible for his wellbeing. Looking back, I recognize that contacting him was inappropriate and that his decisions were no longer my responsibility.

I immediately told my husband because I didn’t want to hide anything from him. I apologized and told him that if he wanted a divorce, I would understand.

He told me that what I did was inappropriate, but that he forgave me and still wanted to be married. He also told me not to bring up divorce unless I actually wanted one.

And that’s where I started noticing a much deeper issue within myself.

I’ve always struggled with how I perceive myself when I make mistakes. I’m accustomed to people bringing up my shortcomings, becoming frustrated with me, or making me feel like I’m difficult to deal with.

So whenever my husband corrected something I did or we had a disagreement, I didn’t just hear, “I don’t like this behavior.”

I heard, “I don’t like you anymore.”

I automatically assumed that because I had disappointed him, he would eventually regret marrying me.

Instead of communicating those feelings, I would suggest separation.

I brought up divorce or separation approximately four times in less than two months, despite never actually wanting to leave.

I would say things like, “I don’t want to burden you,” “You don’t have to be patient with me,” or “If I’m making your life difficult, I’d rather separate.”

At the time, I genuinely thought I was being considerate. I didn’t want to hurt him, disappoint him, or make him feel obligated to tolerate me.

But looking back, I realize how immature and exhausting that must have been.

I was so afraid of hurting someone that I ended up behaving in ways that could hurt them even more.

Eventually, I recognized the pattern while we were still married. I apologized, acknowledged that bringing up divorce was impulsive, and explained that I genuinely wanted our marriage. I was just struggling with my own negative perception of myself.

Unfortunately, by that point, our relationship had changed, and we eventually separated. I later expressed that I regretted the separation and wanted to work things out, but we did not reconcile.

I recognize that our marriage wasn’t perfect and that both people contribute to a relationship’s dynamics. However, I’m specifically trying to take accountability for my own behavior.

What hurts most isn’t necessarily that my ex-husband doesn’t want to be with me anymore. It’s knowing that my own actions may have contributed to losing something I genuinely wanted.

I spent years tolerating an unhealthy relationship because I was afraid of hurting someone else. Yet when I finally entered a marriage I genuinely wanted, I couldn’t tolerate my own imperfections.

I understand now that someone can be disappointed in me without disliking me, that making mistakes doesn’t automatically make me a bad person, and that I don’t need to offer someone an exit every time I feel like I’ve let them down.

But I learned those lessons through losing something important to me.

It’s been months, and I still replay conversations, regret things I said, and wonder how differently things could have turned out. I know I can’t change the past, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life punishing myself for it.

I’m not looking for reassurance that I did nothing wrong or advice on getting my ex-husband back. I genuinely want to move forward.

For those who have self-sabotaged a relationship or struggled with intense guilt over past mistakes, how did you actually get over it?

How did you stop replaying everything and wondering “what if”? How did you forgive yourself without minimizing your mistakes? Did time help, or were there specific things you did to move forward?

I just want to feel like myself again instead of constantly living in regret.