To the Girl Who Tried to Take What Wasn’t Hers

I never imagined I’d write a letter like this. Not out of pettiness, but because sometimes silence feels like surrender, and I’ve learned I don’t need to stay quiet when truth is on my side.

You tried to come between me and my husband. Maybe it was a challenge for you, or maybe it made you feel powerful to poke holes in a marriage you didn’t understand. But here’s the thing—you didn’t break us. If anything, you reminded us how strong we are.

When I first heard the rumors, I won’t lie—it hurt. Doubt creeped in like a shadow. You knew I wasn’t well, and you used that moment of vulnerability like an open door. You whispered lies, sent messages, and tried to twist something sacred into something suspicious. You told me he was seeing you. That he confided in you more than in me. That I didn’t make him happy anymore.

But you underestimated two things: my strength, and our bond.

I’ve been married to him for nearly three decades. We've weathered storms stronger than a pretty girl with a bruised sense of morality. You flung your hair and batted your lashes, but sweetheart, love isn’t built on flirtation—it’s built on foundation. On years of loyalty, compassion, mistakes, forgiveness, and growing up together.

What you didn’t know is that while you were busy spinning your web, we were quietly watching. Listening. Strategizing. We knew your game before you finished your first move.

Yes, we let you think you were winning. I let him play along—not to deceive you, but to understand you. To give you enough room to hang your own lies. And you did.

You messaged him relentlessly, even during work hours. You threw fits when he didn’t respond, insisted he come over, claimed you were the one he really wanted. But funny how he never did come, isn’t it? Not even once.

What really broke my heart wasn’t losing you as a friend—it was realizing you were never one to begin with. Real friends don’t covet what belongs to someone else. Real friends don’t spread rumors or plant seeds of doubt in the minds of people they pretend to care about. Real friends respect boundaries, honor trust, and lift each other up.

You said I wasn’t good enough for him. That I wasn’t pretty enough, smart enough, or loving enough. But here’s what makes me enough—I’m the one who’s stood by him through every hardship. I’m the one who knows his real laugh, his fears, his dreams. I’m the one he comes home to, the one he trusts with his soul.

You were chasing a fantasy. A version of him that only existed in your imagination. But love isn’t a trophy to be snatched—it’s a life lived, day by day, choice by choice.

You thought you could ruin what we had. But instead, you helped us realize how much we’ve built together. And I thank you for that. I thank you for being the final test of a bond that’s already proven unbreakable.

So here’s what I learned:

You can’t steal a person who doesn’t want to be taken.

You can’t shake a foundation built on truth.

And you can’t destroy someone who finally knows her worth.

You didn’t just fail to take my man—you gave me back my power.

I hope one day, you heal whatever wound inside you made this feel like love. I hope you find someone who loves you for real, not as a distraction, not as a weapon, but as a partner.

Until then, I’ll keep living my life with integrity. With love. With gratitude for what I have, and a deep respect for everything I’ve learned from this.

Moral of the story:

Sometimes, life sends people to test our faith, love, and strength. But when we hold onto our truth and our values, even betrayal becomes a lesson in self-worth.

Thank you for reading...

Regards: Fazal Hadi