We asked seven women to share the parts of widowhood that caught them off guard, and their stories are completely heartbreaking.Ěý

“I’m getting strange advances” — Janet, 53*

My husband had been dead for a few months when I returned to work after my mourning period. I went back to dressing normally, and within my first week, a colleague I’d always been friendly with left me a note saying he liked my smile.

Over time, I noticed more people flirting with me. Another colleague outrightly asked if I’d consider becoming his second wife. Nothing about how I related to these people had changed, so I found the sudden attention strange.

When I mentioned what was happening to a friend, she told me I was “pulling attention” because I dressed too flashily for a widow.

I’m in my 50s, so I never expected this kind of attention. It made me so self-conscious that I changed my style and started wearing my wedding ring.

“I never expected his family to turn on me” — Ijeoma* 41

I had a close relationship with my husband’s family, especially his sister. We visited each other often, and I kept them updated throughout his illness. He fell ill at the start of 2024 and died by March.

After he died, his sister screamed at me and accused me of doing something to him because he’d been healthy when they saw him in December. I was shocked. I used to think families victimising widows only happened in films until I experienced it myself. 

They accused me of poisoning him and insisted on taking his body to their village. I became so afraid they would harm me that I couldn’t attend the funeral. They’ve also tried to take my children from me, and I’m still fighting to keep them. 

“I’m being pressured to remarry” — Faiza* 36

It’s been three years since I lost my husband. In the first year, I paid no attention to my family’s jokes about trying again.  Now, I know they actually meant their words. No one misses a chance to remind me that I’m young and shouldn’t waste the opportunity to remarry.

Earlier this year, my sister tried to set me up with her friend without my knowledge. He would hang around me and help me with my son, so I took him for a true friend until he tried to kiss me one day. When I rejected him, he got angry and said my sister had told him I was interested in getting married. 

I felt hurt that they disregarded my boundaries, so I stopped speaking to my sister. My family still refuses to understand my side, and my father tries to guilt-trip me by saying I’m causing him distress by refusing to remarry. I wish they’d accept that I don’t want to go down that path again.

“The church turned on me” — Joyce*, 58

My husband was a state pastor, and we were highly respected in the church. When he died in an accident in 2018, I expected the church to support me and our three children. Instead, I was left on my own. 

Members of the church had gifted my husband a car, but people came asking for it because they considered it church property. I was also kicked out of our accommodation when the new pastor arrived. The church paid for a few days in a motel, but after that, I had to squat with a friend while rebuilding my life from scratch.

I’d spent my entire life supporting my husband’s ministry and had nothing to fall back on. What hurt most was realising the dark truths about the institution I’d trusted. I lost my faith in the church along with my husband.

“I don’t feel safe” — Omotola*, 46

Shortly after my husband died last year, area boys raided our home. They stole from us and even beat up my young children. I believe they saw us as more vulnerable, especially with his obituary banners still at the gate.

After that, I became extremely paranoid about my safety. I hardly sleep at night and jump at the slightest sound. Even after I got guards, that fear hasn’t gone away.

“His friends abandoned us” — Niret* 41

My husband was an engineer who worked with a group of childhood friends. He died after he got electrocuted on a project. His friends promised to take care of our children’s education and support us.

I trusted them and decided not to pursue a legal case since they seemed willing to do the right thing. But after the first year, their support disappeared. When my son’s final-year school fees were due, I  waited for them to help until, at the last minute, they told me they wouldn’t pay. I couldn’t raise the sum myself, so my son had to defer that session.

I regret trusting those promises and failing to make other plans. These were my husband’s closest friends, but now they barely visit or ask about the children. It’s painful to realise how quickly they moved on.

“I didn’t think I would miss my husband” — Flourish*, 49

My husband and I didn’t have the easiest relationship. He became very ill a few years into our marriage, and when he died in 2024, I felt relieved. I didn’t think I’d miss him very much.

Now that my children are at school, I spend a lot of time alone, and I mourn him more than I ever expected. He used to help me zip up my clothes whenever I was getting ready for work or going out. Sometimes, I’ll finish my makeup, walk to the side of the bed expecting him to be there, and then remember he’s gone.

I’ve had to leave the house with my dress half-zipped or find someone to help me. Those little moments are enough to make me break down. It shocks me that even though he’d only been partly present in my life for a long time, his absence still left such a huge gap.

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This is Dami’s explanation, as shared with Mofiyin

My father has always been abusive. Growing up with him meant never knowing what could set him off. A small mistake could earn me a beating, and an hour later, he’d expect everyone to act as though nothing had happened. He never apologised or admitted when he was wrong.

My grandmother once told me that when I was two, he beat me so badly that she thought I was dead. She said he broke down when he realised what he’d done, insisting he hadn’t meant to hurt me. I don’t remember that incident, but I remember what happened when I was nine. 

He got angry with me and chased me around the house, throwing things at me. I hid behind a door, but he kept slamming it against my head until my forehead was badly swollen.

I only began to understand that his behaviour was abnormal when I was 11. That was also when my parents’ marriage fell apart. In 2015,  my dad suddenly asked my mum for a divorce. She refused, so he took her to court. The court eventually granted the divorce, but they still had to settle what would happen to the house they’d built together. My mum had invested heavily in it and had nowhere else to go, so she begged him to let us stay.

He refused. I’ll never forget the day he sent his brother to throw us out while it rained. My mum held my siblings and me close, looking so helpless that the whole thing felt like a scene from a Nollywood film. I watched her, and for the first time, realised that I hated my father.

Not long after, we found out on Facebook that another woman had had a son with him. Even after the divorce, my mum still tried to involve my father in our lives.  When I got my first acting audition in 2017, she asked him to drive me there. But we never made it to the audition. Instead, we spent that time at his new wife’s naming ceremony. Afterwards, he drove me home without further explanation.

I cried when I got home. I’d been so excited about that audition, and it hurt to realise he didn’t acknowledge my dream. I became scared to try again and never did. Eventually, my father and his new family moved to another state in 2018. 

My sisters and I stayed with our mum, as the court had decided. But my father kept pressuring her to let us stay with him. In 2020, she eventually agreed to let us spend one holiday with him. 

I expected us to return home when the holiday ended. Instead, the days kept passing. Then the COVID lockdown started, and my father seized our phones, so we couldn’t reach our mum. I knew she was fighting to get us back, but when he enrolled us in new schools, it became clear that we weren’t leaving anytime soon.

What should have been one holiday stretched into seven torturous years.

I went through all sorts of verbal abuse. He’d flare up over minor incidents and even suggest I was a bastard child. His wife didn’t make my life easier; she equally played her own part. Through it all, my grades suffered, and I became a shadow of myself. 

In 2024, my mum finally enforced the court order and got my sisters back. But my father insisted that I stay because of my schooling. With my sisters gone, I was left alone with him and things got worse. My mental health deteriorated.

Then, last year, my father’s relationship with his second wife became rocky. Whenever they fought, he took his anger out on me. He blamed me for their problems and said she only behaved that way because I was rude to her. 

When she eventually left him last month, I heard that he was planning to take a third wife. I was already struggling with my mental health and that news pushed me further. One evening, I realised I couldn’t spend another day living with the fear of what might happen next. So I ran away.

I left the house that day with nothing but my charger. I told my dad I was going to buy something at the junction, but instead, I went straight to the park. By 7 p.m., I was on a bus heading to the state where my mum and sisters lived. I switched off my phone so my dad couldn’t reach me.

About two hours into the journey, I dozed off. I woke to people shouting and the bus spinning. For a moment, I thought it was karma for running away, and that I was going to die. The back tyre burst after we hit a pothole, and the bus ended up in a ditch, but some trees stopped it from overturning.

We were stranded for hours before a convoy of buses stopped to help pull us out. It was terrifying, especially because nobody knew where I was. Still, I refused to turn back.

By the time I arrived at my mum’s house, it was past 1 a.m. She was angry that I’d risked travelling alone at night, especially in an unsafe environment, but I could tell she was mostly relieved that I was alive. She gave me food, and I went to bed for the first time in years without a worry in the world.

It’s been less than two weeks since I left. I’ve blocked my dad, but he’s figured out where I am and keeps trying to reach me through my mum. He blames her for turning me against him, but this was entirely my decision. Maybe when I’ve had time to heal, I’ll be willing to hear him out, but I don’t want a relationship with him. 

Since leaving, I’ve realised how much damage that environment did to me. Living in a loving and caring space has shown me that I didn’t have to tolerate him just because he was my father.

With him, I lost the will to live. Getting away became a choice between protecting his feelings and protecting myself. If I had to make the same choice again, I’d risk my life all over again.

Read Next: My Fiancé Wouldn’t Stop Impregnating Other Women. So I Beat Him Up

These women tell us how they got into sex work, what happened when they did and what they think about the experience now.

“I decided that suffering was better than insults” — Yejide*, 30

After I graduated from university, I was desperate to move out of my father’s house and start a new life in Lagos. My biggest obstacle was rent. I’d begged my parents, friends and other family members, but I couldn’t raise the money.

In 2022, while complaining to a friend about my frustrations, an older man in his late 40s overheard me. He called me aside, and we got talking. He offered to make me his sugar baby and pay me ₦160k every time we had sex, and I agreed. 

By my calculations, 10 meet-ups would cover my rent and leave me with extra cash. I also found him a little attractive, so I didn’t mind if sleeping with him brought me closer to my goal. We agreed on a date, time, and location and exchanged contact details.

On the day we were supposed to meet, I joined him at a bar before we went to the hotel. He had a few friends with him and spent almost half an hour making fun of me for being poor. I felt humiliated and stayed quiet for the rest of the time we spent at the bar.  

At the hotel, I gave him a blowjob but pretended to be too tired for sex. He sent me ₦160K, with an extra ₦5K for transport fare, and we went to bed. 

I blocked his number as soon as I got home the next morning. I felt dirty and humiliated. Whatever money I could have made from him wasn’t worth being treated that way. 

I couldn’t move to Lagos until 2024. It took much longer than I’d planned, but it was worth it. 

“I didn’t have the stomach for it” — Emmanuella*, 26

During my third year at university, I asked a friend who I knew was in the businessĚý to “show me the way.” She was reluctant at first, but I begged until she agreed to a test run. She always had money, and I thought that if I could get through the beginning, I could live a soft life too.

What I didn’t expect was how jarring the transition would be. The first and only time I followed her to a club to meet one of her regulars, the man started rubbing his hands all over my thighs. His hands were sweaty, and his breath smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. I felt nauseous and scared, and eventually, backed out. 

My friend was upset because she had to find a replacement at the last minute and give her extra. It took a while for her to forgive me. I would never have tried it if I’d known I didn’t have the stomach for it.

°Őłó±đĚýĚýis returning on August 22, 2026, in Lagos! Come learn from finance experts and industry leaders, and partake in unfiltered conversations about building wealth and diversifying your income stream in a country like Nigeria.ĚýReal stories, expert advice you can actually use, and a community ready to build wealth together.Ěý.

“I thought I’d change my life, but I didn’t make any money.” — Tolu*, 24, 

I got into virtual sex work in 2023 after seeing people on X talk about how much money they were making. At the time, I was between jobs and thought that as long as I hid my face, I could make easy money.

The reality was very different. Finding clients wasn’t easy, and I quickly realised that the women showing off the lifestyle I wanted weren’t showing the full picture. Most men wanted to negotiate prices and expected things that weren’t part of the agreement.

I also underestimated the emotional toll. Even though everything happened online,  constantly presenting a version of myself that clients wanted became draining.

After about four months, I stopped. I wasn’t making enough money to justify the stress. 

“I stopped because it never took off” — Patience*, 22

I thought selling sexy pictures online could give me a low-key side income to cover my bills and fund my education. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out, and I still had to drop out.

It’s not like I wasn’t making any money. The site I used required a paid registration before I could withdraw my earnings, and I couldn’t afford it. Without authentication, I couldn’t prove I was a real person, so I couldn’t earn.

I’ve paused for now until I can verify my account. 

I’m currently staying with my parents, so I’m not suffering. But I hope to land a regular job soon, so that I can return to my studies.

“I was intrigued by the lifestyle” — Judith*, 27

I had a decent job, was comfortable financially and had no urgent reason to look for extra money. I was just curious about sex work.

I’d been watching content about findom and dominatrixes, and the lifestyle caught my fancy. I wanted to know what it would feel like to live that way.

So I created a burner account and started posting fetish and dominatrix content without showing any face. The account quickly attracted attention. People flooded my DMs with requests for private calls and videos. They also offered to pay, but I ignored them.

After a few months, I realised I’d started craving the attention. I liked feeling desired by men who could never access me, and I realised I was relying on that validation more than I expected.  It also forced me to confront some of my insecurities about my body. 

Eventually, I stopped making content and deleted the account.

If you enjoyed reading about these women’s experiences, then you’ll love Â鶹ĘÓƵ Life’s A Happy Ending. Watch here:

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Here’s a timeline of how it all unfolded.

February 2025

Before fans fully processed his separation from Annie Idibia, 2face with his relationship with Natasha Osawaru. Videos of their engagement also made rounds online.

The situation got even messier when 2Baba’s mum publicly pleaded with Natasha to leave her son alone, alleging that she’d used juju on him and abducted him.

July 2025

2Baba and Natasha gagged their haters by taking their relationship to the next level, despite the rumours and backlash surrounding it.

They reportedly in a private traditional ceremony on July 25, surrounded by family and close friends.

November 2025 

of a pregnancy began spreading after Natasha was spotted at public events with what appeared to be a baby bump.

The speculation peaked in November when a Facebook page attributed to that she’d welcomed 2Baba’s eighth child. 

December 2025

During an IG Live session hosted by Daddy Freeze, 2Baba and Natasha got into a . His ex-managers accused Natasha of controlling him.

Shortly after, clips surfaced online showing a fight between the couple in London. The altercation reportedly led to 2Baba’s arrest. He’d previously denied the arrest rumours.

February 2026

By Valentine’s Day, 2Baba and Natasha were loved-up again.

Natasha shared of the romantic setup he organised for her, adding that she would choose him “again and again.” 

August 2026

The couple unfollowed each other. Still, with about 20 bouncers. She’d reportedly been trying to reach him.

Fresh reports also claim 2Baba has ended the relationship. And in the biggest plot twist yet, 2Baba and Annie have on social media.

We’re just watching to see where this story ends.

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What’s your current relationship status, and how do you feel about it?

I’m single for the first time in years and finally free from my baby daddy. Right now, I’m not interested in dating. Maybe that will change in the future, but my last relationship drained me so badly that dating isn’t in my cards for now.

How did you arrive at this point? Take me back to the beginning

I grew up very sheltered. I was raised in a very religious environment, so I barely dated.

But that changed when I got into university, where I  met my first boyfriend, David*. We met on a 2go group chat in 2014. We attended the same College of Education, so we became friends. Eventually, he told me he liked me, and we started dating.

What was the relationship like?

It wasn’t bad. We broke up and got back together several times over two years because he wasn’t very serious about the future.

He’d give vague responses whenever I tried to talk about where the relationship was headed. He also didn’t believe in marriage and didn’t want to be tied down because he dreamed of leaving the country. That bothered me because I’ve always wanted a family. 

I was raised by my aunt, and although she treated me well, I often felt isolated. So I wanted the kind of close-knit family I didn’t have growing upHe also smoked, which I wasn’t comfortable with. Eventually, towards the end of my programme, our differences led us to break up.

The relationship had run its course, so it was easy to move on. After school, in 2019,  I got a job at a school and moved to Niger State. That’s where I met Paul*.

How did that meeting happen?

I was visiting a friend and walking around her neighbourhood when he approached me. He told me he worked at a church nearby and had noticed me around. He said he liked me and collected my number.

I wasn’t completely sold at first. He was short and smallish, but the more we talked, the more I liked him. He was very sweet. Eventually, he asked me out and I said yes.

At first, it seemed like we aligned on many things. Then, about two months into the relationship, I found out I was pregnant.

It was a huge shock. I was nervous about telling him because he worked for a church, and pregnancy outside marriage was obviously frowned upon. But his reaction surprised me. He was very happy and kept reassuring me that a child was a blessing.

He started talking about meeting my people and eventually getting married. I’d always wanted a family, and here was someone who seemed ready to give me exactly that.

Sounds nice. And how did your family react when they found out about the pregnancy?

I kept it from then until I was about four months pregnant. They weren’t happy about the situation, but there wasn’t much they could do.

We went ahead with the introduction, and that was when I got my first glimpse into his web of secrets. If his family hadn’t come, I wouldn’t have found out he already had a child.

What? 

His mother came with a little girl who was about six years old. I initially thought she was his niece, but when I asked about the child, she said, “Didn’t Paul tell you about his first child?”

That was the first time I’d heard about any child. I wasted no time confronting him, and he became defensive. He explained that it had happened when he was younger with a woman from his hometown. He also added that it didn’t matter since he was no longer with her mother.

It hurt to find out that way, but we’d only been together for a short time, so I took it as a mistake from his past.

I see. I’m guessing you continued with the wedding plans?

We didn’t. We’d planned to have a church wedding, but his pastor refused to wed us after they found out I was pregnant. I suggested having a traditional wedding instead, but he refused to participate in the village traditional marriage rites because they went against his religious beliefs.

While we were trying to figure out what to do, the COVID lockdown started. I eventually moved in with him, and we agreed to have the baby first and sort out the marriage afterwards.

 What was it like when you moved in together?

At first, it was really good. He was caring and supportive throughout my pregnancy.

Money was our main challenge. Neither of us was earning enough, so shortly after I gave birth, I started my own tailoring business. I’d learnt to sew while living with my aunt, and my cousins pooled money together to help me open a shop. The business picked up almost immediately and eventually became our main source of income.

In 2022, his church wanted to transfer him to another state in the East. He didn’t want to go and was already frustrated with the job, so he resigned. I wasn’t happy about it, but he convinced me it was the best decision for our family’s stability.

Unfortunately, that was when things took a turn for the worse.

In what ways?

He started asking for money for almost everything, and whenever I couldn’t give him what he wanted, he got angry.

I kept encouraging him to find a job, but he stayed at home for over a year. His mother would also call me about things she needed, and I’d send her money on his behalf.

Around that time, I’d just had our second child, so the financial pressure became overwhelming. Eventually, I pushed him to start tutoring students in 2023.

I expected him to start contributing to the household, but he still wasn’t giving me any money. I was paying for almost everything, while he always avoided questions about what he was doing with his earnings. His dodginess made me suspicious until I decided to look into it.

 One day in December, while he was out running personal errands, I checked his phone for his bank transactions. 

That’s when I noticed he was regularly sending money to a woman named Martha*.

I searched for her on WhatsApp and went through their messages. I didn’t need to read much before I realised they were romantically involved.

I confronted him and asked why he was sending her money. I was furious about the affair and even threatened to find her myself.

That’s when he admitted that they had a child together.

Wait, another child with another woman?

Precisely. I was devastated. I also realised the child was only a few months younger than our second child, which means it wasn’t a distant relationship from the past.

I couldn’t believe that after everything I did for him, he could betray me in that way. 

Since I was the one paying the rent, I told him to leave.  But I couldn’t stay angry for long. I also worried about what people would say when they found out.

So, against better judgment, I asked his family to mediate after I’d calmed down. He apologised and promised to end his relationship with Martha. Eventually, I agreed to let him come back on the condition that he paid the electricity bill and contributed towards food.

But forgiving him didn’t mean I’d forgotten what happened. I never fully moved past it. I didn’t trust him the way I used to, and our relationship was never the same.

But did things eventually get better?

For a little while. But I also struggled with how uninvolved he was with our children. Even though I was running my business and he was home most of the time, I couldn’t rely on him to look after them. I often had to take them to my shop.

Over time, I got so exhausted that I didn’t even want him touching me. Our sex life took a big hit, and he often used that to justify some of his behaviour.

Despite his grovelling and promises to right by me, I also found out he’d resumed his affair with Martha. 

Eventually, I stopped putting so much energy into him and focused on growing my business. And my efforts paid off. Over time,  I started training apprentices and had up to six girls working with me.

I had just begun finding some balance in my life when he disrupted it all again.

What happened?

He impregnated one of my apprentices. She’d missed work for some weeks until she randomly showed up with her mother one day. She knelt, apologising before her mother broke the news.

Oh dear. How did you react?

I lost it. I kept saying it couldn’t be true. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t impossible. My husband spent a lot of time around my shop, so I knew how easily they could have gotten close.

The girl showed me their messages and how he’d convinced her we weren’t married when she resisted his advances. He even promised her that he would leave me. 

She had already told him about the pregnancy, but he denied it. Eventually, the situation escalated to the point where they had to involve me.  

I’m sorry. Did you confront him?

I went home and waited for him, but he didn’t come. I called him almost 30 times, and every unanswered call made me angrier.

When he finally came home, we got into a shouting match. I could smell alcohol on his breath. I was already so angry that I slapped him.

He started threatening me and tried to grab me, but I pushed him to the floor and sat on him. I hit him repeatedly while shouting and insulting him.

Our neighbours eventually intervened and separated us.

By the next day, I was getting calls from different people. He’d even gone to the hospital because one of his eyes was bloodshot.

Everyone wanted us to resolve the situation, but they were focusing only on what I’d done. Nobody was talking about what had led to the fight or the fact that he’d gotten another young girl pregnant.

I considered trying to work things out, but he said he no longer felt safe around me. He also blamed me for his actions, saying we’d barely been intimate and that I’d become hostile towards him.

Eventually, I realised there was no point staying together. He hadn’t even married me after almost seven years together. When he packed his things and left, I didn’t try to stop him. 

Fair enough. How have you been coping since the separation?

Despite the relief, it still hurts. I’d considered myself married to him, and I’d been faithful throughout our relationship. He disrupted my life and then still chose to walk away.

It happened in March this year, so I’m still trying to move forward and let go of the bitterness.

So, how have these experiences shaped your idea of love and relationships?

First, I made a lot of mistakes. I put the cart before the horse by getting pregnant before we were married or had any real security in the relationship. It’s not something I’d advise anyone to do.

I’ve also learnt not to build your life around assumptions. I assumed that because he claimed to be a Christian, he would automatically be a good partner. I also assumed we’d grow together and build a life together.

But none of those assumptions could change who he was.

Finally, how are the streets treating you these days? Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10.

6/10. I’m slowly getting over everything and healing one day at a time. I don’t have time to think about love.

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And we found Nigerians living this reality. Here’s what they had to say.

Deji*, 29

I’m currently doing my master’s at UNILAG, and a final-year babe has attached herself to me even though I’ve subtly told her I’m not looking for a relationship. She has clearly fallen for me, and honestly, I’m just enjoying the flow. I don’t spend money on her. In fact, she gives me money and even lets me drive her car. She’s clearly a nepo baby, so my master’s experience has been sweet. The problem is that I’m also trying to force myself to feel the same way she does about me, but it’s not working. Maybe she’s just not my spec. Whatever the case, I’m still enjoying the benefits.

Ibukun*, 29

I moved to Lagos for NYSC without knowing anyone, so I was determined to make friends with people who actually lived there. That’s how I met this guy in camp who seemed like a rich dude. We got close and became intimate towards the end of camp. He wasn’t really my type romantically, but he had free housing, and I thought I could take advantage of that. After camp, I moved in with him and ended up squatting there for almost a year. We dated during that period, but deep down, I knew I wasn’t really feeling him. When I eventually moved back to Osun, I ended the relationship.

Dapo*, 34

I dated a girl in university who wasn’t really my type. She was cute and pretty, but she was also obese, and I wasn’t attracted to her like that. We started as friends, but she began doing things that made me realise how much I could benefit from being close to her. She cooked for me, washed my clothes and gave me money. Her dad was a politician who spoilt her, and she even paid half of my fees on two occasions. People used to troll me for dating her, but they didn’t know what I was getting from the relationship. We stayed together throughout university before she relocated. We’re still cordial, and she still sends me money when I ask.

Frank*, 29

I couldn’t renew my Lagos rent after my landlord doubled it, and I didn’t have enough savings to cover the difference. There was a woman on my street who had always made passes at me, but I never responded because she had a child and looked older than me. When I got my quit notice, I told her about my situation, and she offered to let me squat with her for a monthly fee. The first two months were fine, but by the third month, her advances became harder to ignore. I knew I could lose the housing arrangement if I kept turning her down, so I eventually gave in. I stayed there for over a year before moving out.

Derin*, 30

My aunt once tried to set me up with her wealthy friend’s son. The moment I saw him, I knew he wasn’t for me, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that he had money to throw around. He was also very slow, so I dated him for eight months and made quite a bit of money from the relationship. He gave me a monthly allowance of about ₦150,000, but I never let things become sexual. The most I did was give him a handjob. He’s married now, but he still makes passes at me, and I know exactly what to say when I want him to send me money. I don’t feel bad about it because I never promised him what I wasn’t willing to give.

Blessing*, 27

I dated someone in university whom I didn’t really like. He was loud, rude, and, honestly, not very good-looking, but he had money and was always after me. My parents were struggling financially, so apart from my tuition, I had to figure out my feeding and accommodation. They suggested I stay with a family friend, but the person lived too far away. I eventually gave this guy a chance because of what came with him. He lived in a private residence, had his own car and made sure I never worried about food or money. We stayed together after university, but once I got a good job during NYSC, I knew I could leave. I still can’t believe I dated him.

*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.

Idowu* (28) and Tito* (28) met as children and became inseparable. For nearly two decades, they shared almost everything. Then Idowu discovered a secret that shattered the friendship she thought would last forever.

For Sunken Ships, Idowu shares how finding out that Tito was secretly involved with her ex-boyfriend broke her heart and changed the way she sees friendship and trust.

Can you describe your relationship with Tito?

We’ve been best friends since we were 10. We met at her cousin’s birthday party in 2008. The following year, I saw her again on my first day of secondary school. We spotted each other on the assembly grounds, clicked immediately and became inseparable after that day.

As we grew older, our friendship only got stronger. She was the first person I called whenever anything happened, and vice versa. By the time we got to university, everyone knew us as a pair. If you saw me somewhere, Tito was probably close by. 

We were so close that even our mothers became good friends.

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Sweet. And what was going on in your life outside your friendship with Tito? 

In 2019, I started dating Tunde*. It was my first serious adult relationship.

At first, things were great. Tito actually encouraged me to give him a chance because I was deeply religious and reluctant to date.

We stayed together until 2021, when we discovered that our blood types were incompatible and had to end the relationship. I knew we had no choice, but that didn’t make the breakup any easier. I cried for weeks. 

Tito was my biggest support system during that period. She’d stay on the phone with me for hours while I cried and talked about Tunde. She encouraged me and reminded me that I could still find love.

That’s why what happened next hurt so much.

What happened?

About six months after the breakup, I started noticing some strange things. Whenever I mentioned Tunde, Tito would get awkward and quickly change the subject. I thought she was just tired of hearing about my ex, so I didn’t think much of it.

Then, during a hangout with a mutual friend, she casually mentioned that she had seen Tunde and Tito together around town. I was confused because Tito never mentioned seeing him. 

Ah. Did you talk to Tito about this?

As soon as I left the hangout, I called Tito and asked if she and Tunde had been spending time together. She laughed it off and said people were being messy. She claimed they’d bumped into each other once or twice and only exchanged pleasantries. 

I believed her. Why wouldn’t I? Tito was the last person I expected to lie to me, especially about something like this. So I let it go. 

Then, a few weeks later, I saw them myself.

Oh.

My cousin was visiting from the UK, so we went to a restaurant to catch up. We were halfway through our meal when Tito and Tunde walked in together.

Tunde had his hand around her waist and she was laughing with him. The sight ruined my appetite. I couldn’t stop staring until Tito looked up and saw me. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.

Did you confront them?

I walked straight to their table and demanded an explanation. At first, she insisted they were just friends, but I wasn’t buying it. Eventually, she admitted they’d been seeing each other for three months. 

Barely three months after Tunde and I  ended our relationship.

Wow. Sounds awful.

That’s not even the worst part. It was finding out the layers of lies. According to Tito, everything started after Tunde and I officially broke up. She’d called him a few months after we broke up to mediate a reunion. She tried to convince him that we could still have a relationship, give up the idea of biological children and adopt instead.

But one thing led to another, and they realised they were attracted to each other. Then they started exploring that attraction without my knowledge because they didn’t want to hurt my feelings.

I told Tito that the relationship itself wasn’t even my biggest issue; what truly hurt was the dishonesty. You can’t call someone your best friend and spend months lying to their face.

What about Tunde? Did he try to explain himself?

He sat there looking like he’d forgotten how to speak. He didn’t say anything throughout the conversation, and honestly, I didn’t care. 

We were over; he didn’t owe me anything. But Tito was different. I saw her as my sister, so I expected more from her.

I’m sorry. Did you ever move past the betrayal?

I stopped talking to Tito. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. 

Losing her felt like going through another rough breakup. For weeks, she called and apologised. She sent long messages saying she missed me and didn’t want to lose our friendship.

But every time I read her messages, I remembered all the conversations we’d had while she was hiding the truth. I couldn’t get past it.

Do you think you’ll ever reconcile?

No. I’ve forgiven her because carrying that anger around was exhausting, but I’ll never trust her again. After we stopped talking, I started wondering if she’d been eyeing Tunde before we even split up. I’ll never know for sure.

She threw away our sisterhood for a relationship she wasn’t even sure would last. The last I heard, they aren’t together anymore.

Has this changed how you navigate your other friendships?

Yes. I don’t believe in best friends anymore. I think the only people who can truly have your back are your family. I still have close friends, but I know deep down that if push came to shove, they’d choose what’s best for them. I’ll probably do the same.

Has this affected your romantic relationships, too?

Not really. I’m currently in a loving relationship that’s almost two years old, and I feel cherished.

Has Tito tried to reach out to you since then?

She sends me a birthday message every year on WhatsApp, but I never reply. I have nothing to say to her anymore.

Names have been changed to protect the identities of the people involved.

Read Next: Sunken Ships: He Dumped Me Because I Forgave Him 

The Wheel of Time — Amina*, 31

I’m obsessed with fantasy, but my boyfriend prefers action. After hearing so many good things about The Wheel of Time, I convinced him to give it a chance. It was the perfect middle ground. The plot was so well done that we got hooked and binged the entire series in no time.  

Watch The Wheel of Time on Amazon Prime

YouĚý — David*, 29

I love psychological thrillers, but my girlfriend doesn’t. She only agreed to watch You because she’d already read the book. Surprisingly, it became the first series we were both equally invested in. It even opened her up to psychological thrillers, and it’s still one of the best shows we’ve watched together.

Watch You on Netflix

The Men’s Club — Shola*, 36 

Everyone raved about The Men’s Club when it was released,  so my wife and I gave it a try. I’ve always enjoyed stories about brotherhood and friendship, but she wasn’t convinced at first. She eventually loved it too, partly because she liked the cast. We still keep up with the episodes.

Behind Her Eyes — Ayo*, 23  

My partner and I still talk about Behind Her Eyes. I started watching it because I thought it was going to be a romantic drama, but the psychological thriller twist completely caught us off guard. That’s what got my partner hooked, especially since thrillers are more his thing. We stayed up until 4:30 a.m. watching it, and kept talking about it days after. 

Watch Behind Her Eyes on Netflix

 Suits — Success*, 24

My boyfriend and I watched Suits for the first time last year, and it’s still the best series we’ve binged together. We’re terrible at committing to long-running shows, so I was surprised we stuck with it. The legal drama was so clever that it felt like we were learning while being entertained. We watched all nine seasons, and we still haven’t found another show we’ve enjoyed as much.

Watch Suits on Netflix

Fool Me Once  — Chioma*, 27  

I never thought I’d enjoy Fool Me Once because I usually stay away from crime thrillers. But watching it with my fiancĂ© changed that. The relationship drama and family secrets balanced out the murder mystery, so there was something for both of us to enjoy. 

Watch Fool Me Once on Netflix

Love Island (USA) — Korede*, 25

I’d always dismissed reality TV as mindless entertainment, but my girlfriend was obsessed with Love Island USA. One night, I watched Season 7 with her, and to my surprise, got hooked. We ended up watching Season 8 too. We’d spend hours dissecting the details, and those debriefs brought us closer than I expected.

Watch Love Island on Peacock

Bridgerton —  Sayo*, 22 

My boyfriend loves historical dramas, which I’d always found boring, so Bridgerton felt like the perfect compromise. I made him watch it with me, and we both ended up loving Anthony and Kate’s season. Since then, we watch every new season together. Whenever Bridgerton drops, we clear out the weekend and binge together.

Watch Bridgerton on Netflix

Skinny Girl in Transit — Patience*, 36 

A friend recommended Skinny Girl in Transit, so my husband and I gave it a try. It quickly became our comfort show. We even got my mum watching it when she came to visit, and she liked it too. It’s one of those shows that’s hard not to enjoy. 

Watch Bridgerton on YouTube

Love, Death, & Robots — Tofunmi*, 26 

My partner loves weird TV shows, so we rarely watch anything together. But Love, Death & Robots won me over. Every episode runs for just a few minutes and tells a completely different story, so it never gets boring. Before I knew it, we’d binged all four volumes in one sitting. It’s one of the strangest shows I’ve ever watched, but also one of the most enjoyable.

Watch Love, Death & Robots on YouTube

Georgie & Mandy’s First Marriage — Evelyn*, 23 

My boyfriend is a huge fan of The Big Bang Theory universe, but I couldn’t get into the original series because it felt dated. He eventually introduced me to Georgie & Mandy’s First Marriage, and I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. Audrey’s character is interesting to watch, and the 20-minute episodes are perfect for my attention span. It’s one of the few sitcoms we enjoy together. 

Watch Georgie & Mandy’s First Marriage on M-net

Gidi Up — Uzo*, 44

My wife and I got into Gidi Up back in 2014. We loved how authentically it captured life in Lagos at a time when Nollywood wasn’t telling many stories like that. It also had one of the best casts. Even now, we still talk about rewatching it. 

Watch Gidi Up on YouTube

Black Mirror  — Ismail*, 28 

My partner and I have completely different tastes, but Black Mirror worked for both of us. Every episode explored a different idea, and the stories were so dystopian that we’d spend ages discussing them afterwards. I don’t think we’ve bonded over another show since we finished watching it.

Watch Black Mirror on Netflix

Read Next: Married Nigerians on the Realities of a Long Distance Marriage

From newlyweds who transitioned to painful long-distance arrangements immediately after saying “I do”, to couples doing the hard work of keeping love alive after every long-overdue reunion, these stories reveal the grit, loneliness, and absolute resilience required to love someone from thousands of miles away. 

“I worried my wife was sleeping with other people” — Tunde*, 37

Three months after our wedding, I relocated to the UK. At the time, we told ourselves it would only be for a year. That year became three. I only went home during the Christmas break to say hello.

Nobody told me that long-distance marriage isn’t just about missing someone physically. It’s about missing the small things, like eating together, arguing over silly things and seeing her face after a difficult day. I sorted my physical needs with sex workers and tried not to think about whether my wife was doing the same back in Nigeria.

Instead, I focused on making sure we became better at communicating. There were times I worried we were becoming pen pals instead of spouses. But now, I’m grateful for the love that kept us together until we could be in the same place again. She’s moved over to my side now, thankfully. Those long years apart taught me how important physical presence is in a marriage.

“I feel like I’m switching between being married and being single” — Ifeoma*, 33

My husband works offshore and can be away for months at a time. Every time he leaves, I have to adjust to life without him. Then, when he returns, I have to adjust all over again. It’s like constantly switching between being married and being single. Sometimes the transitions are harder than the separation itself.

We’ve had to learn to be intentional about reconnecting emotionally because intimacy doesn’t automatically return just because someone comes home. At the beginning, I resented him being away so much that our s*x life began to suffer. We had to go for counselling to get over that hump, and things have gotten better since then.

“I’m watching my children grow up through photos” — Hassan*, 41

The biggest surprise about long-distance marriage is how quickly loneliness can creep in, even when you’re talking every day. I moved to Canada in search of greener pastures, but my wife and kids can’t join me yet. For now, we’re stuck with phone calls.

Even though we talk frequently, there are moments technology can’t replace. When you’re sick, stressed or celebrating something, you want your person physically by your side. It was my idea to go to Canada, but the separation has taken a harder toll on me. Every time my wife sends me photos, I feel like I’m missing crucial parts of our children’s lives. I can’t wait till this part is behind us.

“I was married online but alone in real life” — Bimpe*, 29

My husband moved to the UK six months after our wedding. For a while, I felt like I was living two separate lives. Online, I was somebody’s wife. Offline, I was alone.

The weirdest part was how people treated me like a married woman, but my daily reality looked a lot like being single. I’d go to bed alone, fix problems alone and make major decisions alone. Sometimes I felt guilty about admitting how lonely I was because, technically, I wasn’t alone. I had a husband. He just happened to be thousands of kilometres away. 

Last December, I got a visa, and we spent the holidays together. It felt like the sun had come out again. I don’t recommend a long-distance marriage if you’re a lover girl. 

“I could feel my marriage slipping away” — David*, 38

My wife and I tried the thing where one person moves abroad first, and the other joins later. We barely lasted a year.

When you’re only speaking over calls and texts, you naturally start summarising your day rather than fully sharing it. After a while, we’d tell each other the highlights but not the details. I eventually started feeling a distance between us that scared me.

I hated that there were parts of her daily life I knew almost nothing about. When the UK tightened its policies and made immigration tougher, I called my wife and told her I was coming home. The relief on her face told me I’d done the right thing.

“My wife said she was tired of carrying everything alone” — Saheed*, 48

I’m a truck driver, and I have to travel frequently for work. For a long time, I convinced myself my wife had adjusted to it. After all, I sent upkeep money regularly and made sure she and our kids were comfortable. In my mind, I was doing all this for them.

Then one day, while I was visiting home, she poured out her mind. She said handling everything alone while I was away was too much for her. Hearing that made me feel bad. I thought she was having it easier, but that day she showed me she was struggling.

I now make sure I’m never away from home for more than a week. It’s not perfect, but we’re making it work until we can find a more permanent solution.

“We had to schedule dates just to remember we liked each other” — Tinuade*, 35

When you’re together physically, affection can happen naturally. When you’re apart, it’s a different ball game. You have to create opportunities for connection instead of waiting for them to happen naturally. A few weeks after my husband travelled for film school, I noticed our conversations had become repetitive because all we discussed were bills, work and responsibilities.

We had to stop and decide that we wanted this to work. Then we started scheduling online dates and watching films together. He’ll soon graduate, and I can’t wait for him to come back home to me.

“Distance made me aware of my insecurities” — Chinedu*, 39

I had to briefly move to Abuja to oversee the construction of the home I was building for our family. During that period, I only went home once or twice a month.

The problem was that, over time, I became insecure about leaving my wife alone for so long. If she took longer than usual to reply to my messages, my mind would immediately start creating stories. 

I knew she was probably busy, but the distance made every feeling seem bigger than it was. I was forced to confront and overcome insecurities I didn’t even realise I had. When you’re apart, you need to go the extra mile to remind yourself of the partner you have and the kind of person they are.

“I cried in an empty apartment because I missed my husband” — Kemi*, 28

My husband relocated two days after our wedding in 2025, and for seven months, our marriage was sustained by phone calls, texts, and video calls.

My friends would ask how we were coping with the distance, and I’d always say we were fine. But the truth was more complicated. Some days were manageable. Other days, I’d come home to an empty apartment and cry because I was tired of being alone.

I’d pick fights with him, but he never lost his cool. When I finally saw him again, I was so happy. It felt like those months apart had been a bad dream.

“I stopped wanting sex after years apart from my husband” — Funke*, 61

My husband was an accountant and travelled frequently. During peak periods, he’d be away for months at a time. At first, I missed him so much it was painful. But after a while, I got used to it.

We had two kids, and I poured my time into taking care of them. At some point, I thought he might have a secret family in another state. But as long as they didn’t disturb my children or me, I wasn’t too worried about it.

The constant distance wrecked our intimacy, though. After our third child was born in 1999, I no longer felt the urge to have s*x with him. He didn’t pressure me, and we continued our marriage like that until he passed away in 2019.

“Being apart almost made us forget how to be a team” — Amara*, 52

My husband lived abroad for four years because he was trying to get a residency visa. I had to stay back with our children.

As time passed, I learned to solve problems on my own and make big decisions without him. I think a part of me resented him for leaving me with the kids, but another part of me missed him when he was gone.

The damage was already done by the time we eventually reunited. We’d both developed separate routines and ways of doing things, and it almost broke our marriage. It took prayer and learning how to function as a team again to avoid divorce.

“We almost grew apart while I was away” — Segun*, 38

People often assume long-distance marriages fail because of infidelity. In my experience, the bigger threat is emotional drift. You can love someone deeply and still become disconnected if you’re not careful.

We were apart for six months while I pursued a diploma in Brazil. Things got so busy that, at one point, we couldn’t find the time to connect.

I didn’t even notice how distant we’d become. She was the one who pointed it out. After that, I became intentional about setting aside time to talk about things other than our responsibilities. It actually deepened our bond. It felt like we were dating again. By the time I returned, we felt closer than we had in months.

“I got so used to being alone that his presence annoyed me” — Kikelomo*, 36

The first time my husband came home after almost a year away on deployment, I was shocked by how irritated I felt.

I’d imagined a romantic reunion, but instead, I found myself annoyed that he was disrupting my routines. I’d gotten so used to being alone and doing things without him. Suddenly, there was another person in the house again.

I think long-distance marriage can make independence feel addictive. Every time my husband comes home, I have to relearn how to share my space with him. But once I adjust, I love having him around, and I hate when he has to leave.

“I felt like a guest in my own home” — Uche*, 46

Spending more time out of the house always makes me feel like a guest in my own home.

Whenever I return from travelling, my wife and kids already have their routines. They know where everything is, how everything works and what their schedules look like.

For the first few days, I’d always feel slightly out of place, like I was visiting rather than returning. It made me cranky and easily annoyed. Only a few nights in bed with my wife could turn it around. Those few minutes we spend gossiping before we fall asleep are my favourite moments on the days I spend at home.

“Hope kept my marriage alive when my husband couldn’t be there” — Nnenna*, 40

A few years into our marriage, my husband and I had to navigate a long-distance situation. He travelled to America for three years, and it threatened to end us.

I spoke to some older couples at our church who had experience with long-distance marriage, and I noticed the same pattern. They genuinely believed the sacrifice would eventually be worth it. The couples who struggled most were the ones who lost sight of why they were enduring the separation in the first place.

That put everything into perspective for me.

Hope is a surprisingly practical way to keep the flame alive, even when your spouse isn’t physically there with you.

“Moving back in together was harder than living apart” — Bayo*, 60

When I retired after years of living apart from my wife and travelling for work, I didn’t realise that reuniting would be difficult.

I expected things to be seamless when I joined her in our three-bed flat. We’d become accustomed to making decisions independently and organising our lives separately. Suddenly sharing a space again required the compromise we’d stopped practising.

We started arguing and raising our voices; something we’d never done before.

Eventually, I figured the small space was an issue, so we moved to a duplex. Our relationship improved almost immediately. It’s been great between us ever since.

Ěý*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.

If you loved this, you won’t want to miss the next episode. The Long Haul follows couples who successfully navigated marriage for over a decade and more. Dropping Aug 14th.

In this week’s Marriage Diaries, he shares how a failed business deal made him lean on his wife for the first time, why marrying an ambitious woman changed his idea of marriage, and the argument that transformed how they communicate.

Got a marriage story to share? PleaseĚýĚýand we’ll reach out.

I never dreamed about marriage; I just wanted a peaceful life

My mum died when I was young, and my dad never remarried. It was just him raising three children, with my grandmother and two aunties stepping in whenever he travelled for work. My dad was a very strict man, so our lives revolved around school, discipline and doing the right thing. There wasn’t room to think about girlfriends or relationships, and because my dad never brought another woman into our lives, marriage wasn’t something I spent time imagining.

Even when I got to university, dating wasn’t on my mind. I wanted to graduate, get a good job and become financially stable. I only started to consider marriage after school, and even then, my expectations were quite simple.

I wanted a peaceful home, a beautiful wife and children. More importantly, I wanted to be financially comfortable enough to provide for them. Growing up, I’d seen enough families struggle because money was tight, and I didn’t want that to become my story. In my mind, the husband carried the responsibility of providing, while the wife supported however she could. That was the kind of marriage I expected to have.

My wife completely changed what I believed about gender roles

The biggest surprise in my marriage has been my wife.

Interestingly, while we were dating, she sounded even more traditional than I was. She would always say she wasn’t interested in any 50-50 arrangement and that any man who couldn’t provide should stay away from her. I didn’t see anything wrong with that because I already believed it was my responsibility to take care of my family.

But marriage showed me another side of her. My wife doesn’t wait for me to ask before she steps in. If something needs to be done for our family, she’s already thinking about how she can help. Sometimes I even have to tell her to slow down because she’s always looking for ways to chip in.

It made me realise that partnership in marriage isn’t about keeping score or dividing responsibilities down the middle. It’s about two people doing whatever they can to make sure the family is okay.

A failed business deal made me question if I’d really been ready for marriage

I’ve always been someone who plans ahead, especially financially. I like knowing that even if something goes wrong, I have enough saved to keep my family comfortable while I recover. But life doesn’t always respect your plans.

About three years after we got married, I got involved in a business deal that went badly and lost a significant amount of money. If it had only been my wife, our first son and me, maybe I would have handled the pressure differently. But around that same period, my wife was pregnant and eventually gave birth to twins. Suddenly, every budgeting plan I’d made stopped making sense.

I started dipping into savings, trying to keep my business afloat and worrying about how I was going to provide for a family that had suddenly become much bigger.

The funny thing is that I didn’t tell my wife any of this. She’d just gone through a difficult delivery and was adjusting to life with newborn twins. I didn’t see the point of adding my own worries to everything she was already carrying.

Still, she noticed that something wasn’t right. One day, I received a credit alert for more than ₦1 million. I honestly thought the bank had made a mistake. When I asked her about it, she simply told me she’d noticed I wasn’t myself and wanted me to use the money to support the business.

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt more loved than I did in that moment. People often think love is in grand gestures or romantic words, but for me, that action represented something much bigger. It reminded me that I wasn’t carrying my family alone, even though I’d always believed that was my responsibility as the husband.

Learning to support an ambitious wife wasn’t as easy as I expected

One thing nobody prepared me for was what happens when your wife becomes incredibly successful at what she does.

My wife eventually left paid employment to run her event business full-time. The business grew quickly, and with that growth came constant travelling, sleepless nights and long hours.

I admired her work ethic because I could see the impact it was having on our family. She wasn’t just building her business; she was also helping to ease the financial burden on our home.

At the same time, I worried that the demands of the business were beginning to affect the time she could give to our family.

And I struggled to communicate that concern. Whenever I tried to raise it, I worried that it sounded as though I wanted her to slow down or abandon her dreams. That wasn’t what I wanted at all. I just wanted us to remember that, no matter how successful either of us became, our family still had to come first.

It took both of us time to understand each other’s perspective. We had lots of trial and error and hard conversations before we eventually found our footing.

I’ve learnt that timing matters as much as good intentions

After our last child was born, my wife wanted to resume work barely two months later. I suggested she give herself more time to recover because she’d just gone through childbirth.

But, to her, she believed I was only saying it because I wanted her to stay at home, not because I genuinely cared about her well-being.

Looking back, I understand why she interpreted it that way. She’d worked hard to build something she was proud of, and perhaps my timing made it sound like I didn’t appreciate her efforts. Eventually, I apologised. One thing about me is that I don’t struggle with saying sorry. Whether I’m right or wrong, I’d rather apologise than allow resentment to grow.

These days, I’m more careful about how I approach conversations around her work. I’ve learnt that saying the right thing isn’t always enough. Your partner also needs to feel that you understand what matters to them.

My wife taught me that accepting help doesn’t make me less of a man

When I was younger, I believed a man’s value came from being able to provide everything his family needed. Today, I don’t think that’s true.

My wife now earns more than I do because her business has grown tremendously, and I’ve learned not to see that as a competition. We’re building one family, so whether the money comes through her or me, it still benefits all of us.

I remember when we bought our family car. My relatives naturally assumed I was the one who paid for it, but I corrected them immediately and told them my wife bought it.

She wasn’t particularly happy that I said so because she didn’t think it mattered. But I wanted people to know because I was proud of her.

If you’re blessed with a hardworking, generous and successful spouse, I don’t think there’s anything to be ashamed of. In fact, I think more men should learn to celebrate their wives rather than feel threatened by them.

Love matters, but it can’t sustain a marriage

I believe love is important, but I don’t think it’s enough.

There will be seasons when life puts pressure on your marriage. There will be moments when you disagree, when you’re tired, when money is tight or when one person is carrying more than the other. Those are the moments when patience, trust, understanding and respect become just as important as love.

Sometimes what keeps a marriage together isn’t the excitement you felt at the beginning. Sometimes it’s choosing each other on difficult days and remembering that you’re on the same team.

Looking back now, I think that’s the biggest lesson marriage has taught me. I entered it believing that provision was my greatest responsibility. 13 years later, I know partnership is just as important. My wife has supported me in ways I never imagined, and I hope I’ve learned how to support her too. I think that’s what has sustained our marriage more than anything else.

*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the subjects.

Got a marriage story to share? Please  and we’ll reach out.