I have lived a life full of expectations, first as a daughter, then as a wife, and later as a mother. For years, I prioritized everyone else's happiness while sacrificing my own. My name is Ngozi, and I was trapped in a marriage that didn't nourish me. Despite being a mother of two, my sense of self had long been lost under the weight of responsibilities.
Chijioke, my husband, and I drifted further apart, and I found myself questioning whether this was the life I had envisioned for myself. The realization came too late-my marriage had become a routine, my dreams buried beneath a sense of obligation. I made the difficult decision to separate from Chijioke, even though it meant stepping into an uncertain future.
I left the life I had known, seeking refuge with my sister, Chioma, who offered a safe space to heal and reflect. In the quiet of her home, I began therapy, something I had never considered before. I realized that the pain I had carried for years wasn't just about my marriage; it was about my own neglect, my inability to truly live for myself. I began to reclaim the woman I had lost, one small step at a time.
I rediscovered old passions, like writing, which had once been an outlet for my thoughts and emotions. I joined a creative writing course and a book club, allowing myself to connect with new people who saw me as an individual, not just a mother or wife. Therapy became an anchor, guiding me through the maze of guilt and self-doubt that had defined my life for so long. With each session, I understood more about myself-why I had made certain choices and how I could build a healthier, more fulfilling future.
I thought I had moved on, that I had finally found the strength to leave the past behind. But then, one day, Chijioke called. His voice was different- more open, more vulnerable. He had been working on himself, attending counseling, and wanted to apologize for the mistakes he had made in our ii marriage. I wasn't expecting it.
I had learned to live without him, but his words caught me off guard. He didn't ask me to come back, but he made it clear that he was willing to work through our past, whatever that might look like. I knew I wasn't ready to make any decisions about our future. I had changed, and the woman I had become wasn't the same person who had once sacrificed everything for her family.
I needed more time to continue my own healing, to figure out what I truly wanted in life. As I ended the call with Chijioke, I felt a strange sense of peace wash over me. I realized that, whether or not we ended up together, I had found my strength. I had chosen myself. I now stand at the threshold of a new chapter. The future is still uncertain, but for the first time in years, I am not afraid of what lies ahead.
I know that my journey of self-discovery is ongoing, and I am ready to embrace it. A Mother's Mistake is not just a story of love and loss; it's about finding the courage to walk away from the things that no longer serve us and to build a life that is truly our own.
