Loathe.
Maybe it’s extreme, but it’s the only word that fits the mess of feelings swirling inside me right now.
It all started with a Facebook post—one from NS, one of the founders of that famous kebab chain Baba Rafi—shared by a friend.
I dropped a comment, only to find myself swimming in a sea of women who’ve lived versions of this same nightmare.
Sympathy and empathy floated around like lifebuoys, but one comment caught my eye—ruthless, biting, and from a woman.
If it came from a man, I’d probably scroll past.
But from a woman, to another woman drowning in the darkness of a shattered marriage?
That cut deeper than any blade.
I get the cynicism and sarcasm if it came from men—some of them are wired that way.
But when women tear each other down like that, I just wish they’d never taste the bitterness of that pain firsthand—because I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be as brave as those of us who have lived it.
We’re not here seeking justification, nor do we want to play victims.
HECK NO.
We know every story has two sides—no illusions about right or wrong here.
That’s why most of us stay silent, because the world tends to listen more to the cold judgment than to the raw truth.
We don’t need society to confirm we’re right.
All we crave is understanding—a friendly hand to hold when the storm feels endless.
Don’t judge what you haven’t lived.
We want true friends, companions who remind us the dark won’t last forever.
That beyond the thunder, a rainbow waits.
If you can’t say something kind, maybe just say nothing at all.
If you can’t feel what they feel, at least don’t make it harder.
A little empathy won’t hurt.
It might even heal.
But some people?
Born ruthless, dripping cynicism like poison.
That’s the hard truth.
We live in a world that claims men and women are equals, yet when a woman dares to speak out, the blame always circles back to her.
Astagfirullah—where is the justice in that?
When your husband cheats, it’s because you failed—too ugly, not enough, not worthy.
If only you’d made him happy, given him children, prioritized him—he’d never stray.
Newsflash to the cynics:
Even the best wife can’t fix a man born to break promises.
Mistakes on his part aren’t erased by good treatment.
Some men—and some women—are simply born jerks and heartbreakers.
The homewreckers don’t see the scars they leave behind, only their own selfish desires.
Laugh now, bask in your ill-gotten love story.
But don’t come crying when the same knife is turned on you.
I lived this hell.
Tried everything to hold us together.
But Allah SWT showed me it would only hurt more if I insisted on keeping what was broken.
Four years married, two years dating.
No children. I thought it would be okay. I was naïve.
By our third anniversary, everything crumbled.
He did things I never imagined:
Cheating with four women I know of.
Dabbling in forbidden dark arts, conspiracies with devils.
Selling everything we owned, leaving me drowning in debt.
Ignoring me for years.
Unemployed while I became breadwinner.
Disrespecting my family.
Getting a mistress pregnant and denying it.
Marrying that mistress while still legally wed to me.
So don’t tell me there are always two sides.
Not until you’ve lived this pain.
Showing empathy doesn’t make you weak.
It makes you human.
And sometimes, that’s the bravest thing you can be.
