Taiwo Ayandeyi

• Post By Taiwo Ayandeyi
• 1 week ago

I never thought I’d find myself contemplating divorce just two years into my marriage. As a bachelor, I’d look at couples splitting up and wonder how they ended up there. Didn’t they date and get to know each other first? Didn’t they see the signs? And yet, here I am, standing on the brink of making the same decision. I dated my wife for a year and three months before we got married, and I thought I knew her. But I was wrong. She lied and pretended to be someone she wasn’t. Now, I’m starting to see who she truly is, and it’s tearing me apart.

Immediately after our wedding, I noticed changes in her that hadn’t been there before. One month in, we were not having sex like any newly married couple would. Every time I tried to be intimate, she’d have some excuse—a headache, feeling tired, or being stressed from work. I tried to be patient, thinking it was just a phase. But it didn’t end. When I finally asked her what was wrong, she bluntly told me she didn’t like sex. I was shocked. How could she not like sex? We had been intimate enough times while dating for me to believe otherwise.
“How can we have children if we don’t have sex?” I asked, trying to keep my frustration in check. Her response was indifferent, almost as if it didn’t matter. From then on, she’d sometimes only have sex with me during her ovulation period, like it was a chore to check off her list. It went on like this for over eight months, and I felt more and more disconnected. I felt unwanted, unloved. Every attempt to bridge the gap between us only seemed to widen it.

But the cracks didn’t just stop there. Through a relative of mine, I managed to get her a job that paid her 300,000 Naira monthly. She seemed happy, and I was glad I could help. Then, fate dealt me a blow—I lost my job. After months of searching, I managed to find another one, but it paid only 120,000 Naira a month. I couldn’t afford to stay home, so I took it, thinking it would just be temporary until I found something better.
My 120,000 Naira salary barely covers our expenses. I take care of the rent, food, bills, and still fuel my car to get to work. The one that hit me hardest was when our rent increased to 700,000 Naira around the same time my car’s engine gave out, needing another 500,000 Naira to repair. I felt the walls closing in on me. I was struggling, juggling all these financial burdens alone. I turned to my wife, thinking she’d step up and help. After all, she was earning more than double what I was. But all she could offer was 50,000 Naira.

I was speechless. She looked at me and said it was a man's duty to cater to his family, and she could only "assist." Her words felt like a slap. Here I was, drowning under the weight of our expenses, and she was holding back. I had to sell one of the lands I’d bought back in my bachelor days to cover the bills. I never thought I’d be in a position where I had to sell my hard-earned property just to survive while my wife, who I had helped get a better-paying job, stood by and watched.
The emptiness gnawed at me until I reached out to someone who had once filled a different kind of void in my life—my ex. We had broken up years ago because of distance when she moved to London for her studies. But we never really ended things on bad terms. There was always a "what if" lingering between us. Now, in my loneliness, that "what if" turned into late-night conversations, laughter, and the kind of warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time. I sneak out every now and then to be with her. I know it’s wrong. I know cheating is not the answer, but I felt like I was drowning, and she was the only one who could save me. With her, I felt alive again, seen, and heard. Things quickly escalated, and before I knew it, I was back in her arms. It felt like a betrayal of my marriage vows, but at the same time, it felt like the only way to reclaim a part of myself that had been lost.

I never imagined I’d be contemplating divorce, but here I am. I want to marry my ex. I want a fresh start, a chance to feel loved again. I don’t know if I can continue in a marriage where I feel more like a burden than a partner. Maybe it’s time to face the harsh truth: some people change, and some people never really were who they claimed to be. Maybe it’s time for me to choose my own happiness, to take a leap and start over.

Don't make the same mistake I made. Study your partner thoroughly before to married, don't rush!