Marriage is often sold as the ultimate dream, a badge of grown-up bliss. However, in private, many of us are merely surviving, not truly living. I used to feel alone in my struggles until I realised that so many share this quiet heartache. When I said, “I do,” I thought I’d found forever. My husband was a rock—bills paid, kids in good schools, pantry stocked. On paper, he was perfect. But in our home, I was a ghost.

He showered our kids with love, laughter, and outings, but for me? Nothing. No warm hugs, no “How’s your day?”—just cold, practical chats. I was the house manager, not his partner. At night, I’d sit on our bed, watching him scroll his phone while my tears fell silently. People talk about cheating or money woes, but rarely the slow sting of emotional neglect. I dreamed of leaving, but the kids kept me rooted in this lonely cycle. Continue Reading.