Let’s get really fucking real here for a moment ✨ In the beginning of my relationship and marriage my husband and I were in our mid-20s. He told me whatever he thought I wanted to hear, and despite his words and actions not aligning then, I over-looked it, because I liked him a lot. Additionally, at that time, I was only 1.5 years into therapy and was definitely codependent. These two things alone were a dangerous combination. In hindsight, realistically, that desperation is likely what set the tone for how I allowed him to treat me for the duration of our marriage…. Until this current separation. For years, I begged my husband to leave me. Not because I didn’t love him, but because I loved myself too much to stay with someone who promised growth and chose comfort instead 🫠 I would sob to him, on my hands and knees, begging him, “if you want to stay stuck, I can’t be with you” Because knowing myself, as long as he told me he was willing to grow, work on himself, and be the man he told me he was in the beginning… I would never stop believing in him. I would never stop holding out hope 🥴 The hardest part was never loving him. It was loving someone who kept making promises they weren’t ready to keep. Then watching myself get stretched too thin and my standards dropping to meet him. Instead of him rising to meet mine. I never asked my husband to change, he told me he wanted to…. But I begged him to leave if he wasn’t going to be the person he said he was. Because as long as he told me he wanted to grow, I would never give up on him. And he knew that. Unfortunately, as beautiful as hope is, it can also become a trap when words replace action, and love becomes waiting. 🤷🏻‍♀️