“If I Have to Do It All, I Might As Well Be Alone” — A Story About Leaving to Finally Live

“If I Have to Do It All, I Might As Well Be Alone” — A Story About Leaving to Finally Live

It didn’t happen overnight.
It wasn’t just one argument, one broken promise, or one bad day.
It was every single day—
Doing it all.
And slowly realizing that being in a marriage where you’re doing everything… feels lonelier than being alone.

That’s why I’m leaving.
Not because I want someone else.
Not because I’ve stopped believing in love.
Not because I didn’t try hard enough.

I’m leaving because I’ve done it all—and I’m still expected to do more.
And if I’m going to carry the full weight of a life, a home, a family, and my own damn emotions—
Then I’ll do it without someone sitting beside me acting like he’s doing me a favor by being present.

---

People say marriage is partnership.
That it’s two people, side by side, holding up the roof.
But what happens when only one person is holding the house,
and the other is just watching?

Let me paint you the picture:

• I wake up first.

• I pack lunches.

• I dress the kids.

• I remember appointments, birthdays, groceries, oil changes, medicine, bills.

• I work all day.

• I cook dinner.

• I wash dishes.

• I clean the house he lives in.

• I keep track of how everyone else feels while no one checks on me.

And he?
He works too.
He’s tired too.
But when he’s tired, he rests.
When I’m tired, I push harder.
Because no one else will.

---

I didn’t sign up to be a wife and a maid and a therapist and a mother to a grown man.
I didn’t get married to gain another child.
I thought I was building a life with a partner.

But what I got was this:
A roommate with selective sight.
A man who thinks being “nice” is enough.
Who believes sitting on the couch while I crash and burn is love,
because he “didn’t yell” today.

Who thinks that helping once a month deserves applause,
while I break my back every day to make this house a home—
a home he no longer contributes to.

---

He thinks I’m leaving because I’m emotional.
Because I’m tired.
Because I’m “overwhelmed.”

And you know what? He’s right.
I am all of those things.
But not because I’m weak—
because I’ve been strong for too long.

Because I’ve been holding up both sides of this relationship,
and I’m finally choosing to put it down.

---

I don’t want to hate him.
I don’t even want to punish him.
I just want to live without the resentment of doing it all while he coasts through the life we built together—
a life that feels like mine alone to maintain.

I want mornings that don’t begin with stress.
I want evenings that don’t end with silence or sighs.
I want peace in the quiet, not tension.
I want a home that feels like rest, not another shift.

And most of all—
I want partnership or nothing at all.

Because I finally realized:
If I have to do it all, I’d rather do it alone—
with no one to resent, no one to chase, no one to carry but myself.

---

So I’m walking away.
Not bitter.
Not vengeful.
Not dramatic.

I’m walking away because I’ve finally accepted that love should lift, not weigh you down.
That support should be shared, not expected.
That I deserve to be more than “the one who keeps things together.”

---

And maybe one day he’ll look back and say,
“I didn’t realize how much she did.”
But by then, it won’t matter.
Because I’ll be long gone.
Building a life where I’m no longer exhausted just for surviving.
Where I sit in my peace and know—

This isn’t loneliness.
It’s freedom.

Because doing it all alone is hard.
But doing it all with someone who doesn’t care to help?
That’s unbearable.

So I chose me.
And that?
That’s the happiest ending I could write for myself. 🕊️