Dear Ojiugo,

Why do people change after marriage?

I married my best friend. The best man for me. He was so kind and thoughtful. After a string of heartbreaks, falling in love with him was a walk in the park. He made love feel wholesome. I didn’t have to ask what we meant to each other. He showed me, in words and in deeds. When I prayed, I specially thanked God for him.

I thought his romantic side would wane when we married. Boy! How wrong I was. He told me our lives had just begun. We went on weekly dates to keep the fire burning. He’d buy something that caught his fancy and say he thought of me when he saw it. I was so grateful for him—this man who thought of me in the most random of moments.

I would mention something I need for my business. The following week, it would be delivered to our home. My birthday presents were never flowers and cakes. They were things I needed for my personal growth – a yearly subscription to Grammarly or clearing out my book basket on Amazon. Of course, he bought cakes too. And we would drink wine at night.

We didn’t like having guests over for a birthday party – it was too much work for people who came with no gifts. Lol! We were alike in preferring this for our birthdays. The one time we had a guested birthday was for the kids. They were born on the same date, so we put aside our joint dislike for birthday parties and threw a one-of-a-kind party for our babies. That was the first and last before he started hating me. 

At first, it was subtle and unnoticeable. It took me a while to realise that the hate had gone deep. My sweet hubby started commenting on how rude I had become. The same statements that made him fall in love with my intellect now felt like I was showing off. Then there were the little offhand remarks, like the day we were watching The Real Housewives of Dubai, and I wasn’t impressed by the show of exotic cars. 
He said, “Nobody can impress you. You are becoming bitter.” 
That stung. I wanted to discuss it, but he shrugged it off.

In fact, he shrugged me off. My worries. My feelings. My needs. They no longer mattered. He started acting like I was stopping him from something. And I wanted to know what. It felt like going on a walk and turning a corner without realising it till you were already fully lost. I struggled to retrace my steps, but something about his calmness in the face of my frantic attempts to repair our relationship felt final. He sabotaged my attempts at communication. 

When I suggested we see a counselor, he rejected the idea. He said they only make things worse. It was clear he was content with the state of things. I was being mentally abused.

To this day, I don’t know where we fell off. I just know that this man spoiled love for me.