I Let Pride Ruin My Marriage—Now I Live with the Regret

I am a working woman, Alhamdulillah, employed in the Education Department as a Grade 18 officer.
Unfortunately, I am also a mother of two and divorced.

Women are often emotional by nature, and we tend to make decisions in the heat of the moment. We shouldn’t. We must learn to control our emotions.

I’m 37 years old now. I got married at 28 within my extended family. My husband was also a government employee in the Health Department, serving in Grade 15.

Until the birth of our son, we lived in a joint family and had a good time. I won’t lie — my in-laws were good to me, and there were no major issues. But truthfully, I never felt comfortable living in a joint setup. I wanted our own space.

I told my husband we should build our own home and live separately. We both earned well and could afford to build a house in a year — even if we had to sell the car. He agreed.

Using my savings, I purchased a plot, and together we built our home within a year. My salary was higher than my husband’s. After we moved into our new home, things changed.

Like every household, we had minor issues. But honestly, I had developed an unhealthy pride in my job and my income. I began to consider my job as everything — and that was the biggest mistake of my life.

Soon, our daughter was born. And let me tell you something — a woman’s worst enemy is often another woman, not a man. The emotional damage a woman can cause to another is far deeper.

Since I had contributed more financially to building the house, I would taunt my husband during arguments, saying, “This house was built with my money. What have you contributed?”

Then came my cousin — a frequent visitor — who slowly began poisoning my thoughts. She constantly reminded me that I earned more than my husband, subtly planting seeds of arrogance and resentment in my heart. She made me forget I had a husband, a home, and two beautiful children.

Conflicts escalated. We had purchased a car, and once again, I had contributed more financially. One day, in a fit of ego, I told my husband: “Either return the money I paid for the car or stop using it.”

What I thought was a small demand deeply hurt him. He quietly sold the car and gave me my share of the money. His older brother, who lived in Canada, was visiting us at the time. Before leaving, he handed the car over to him.

That car was expensive. Watching it being given away broke me inside, and I reacted by demanding he return the money I spent on building the house as well.

But here’s the painful truth: I was already planning to divorce him, influenced by the same cousin who had completely turned my mind against my own family. May Allah guide her — but those who break homes will never find peace either. She isn’t happy today either.

My husband sold the car, gave me my money back, resigned from his job, and started a hotel business. Today, he owns three hotels. And me? Drowned in arrogance and bitterness, I am now a mental and emotional wreck.

After receiving all my money back, I demanded a divorce. My husband and my family begged me to reconsider, but I was blinded. That cousin had already laid a trap for me. Her brother-in-law was a widower, a Major in the army, with a young daughter.

She promised me a better life — a higher social status. Tempted by greed, I took the step and accepted the divorce.

My ex-husband agreed to one condition: “You won’t take the children.”
Blinded by ambition, I accepted.

After my ‘iddah (waiting period), my cousin married me off to her brother-in-law. I moved into his grand home. He had luxury cars, drivers — everything. Yet, I traveled by rickshaw. I worked full-time, and he took every penny of my salary, only giving me a small monthly allowance.

I cared for his daughter like my own while my own children lived away from me. I was tortured emotionally every day, but I kept quiet, trying to make things work. Then, the truth came out — he was already married in Islamabad.

Still, I stayed. I promised myself I wouldn’t walk away this time. But he kept pushing me to leave, abusing me to the point that I would be forced to ask for divorce again.

Eventually, I did.

This time, my father — may Allah bless him — told me: “Come home, my daughter. Don’t suffer like this.”
I returned. Just two months ago, my father passed away. He was my only support.

I have four brothers. All are married and have their own lives. I still have my job — the one I used to be so proud of — but it offers me no peace. The salary comes, but what do I spend it on?

Today, I am broken. I visited my children after a long time, thanks to my mother’s insistence. I bought them toys and gifts. But soon after, their father sent everything back through his younger son.

My children are happy with their stepmother. And I am just a shadow of the woman I once was.
All I want now is to have my children back. I believe that may help heal my broken soul.

Please, if you are reading this — pray for me.

I know I don’t deserve it after all the mistakes I made. But Allah can make anything possible.

To my sisters reading this:

If you're a working woman — whether in the private or public sector — never let your job or salary become a source of arrogance. Even if you earn more than your husband, never let it ruin your home.

You cannot buy happiness with money or titles.

My younger sister is a doctor. Her husband works in a private company. When I see them build their life together, supporting each other — I hate what I did to myself.

Why did I destroy my own life?

We often blame men — and yes, some are wrong — but sometimes, it’s us women who destroy everything because of pride and toxic advice from others.

Never let another woman misguide you.
A woman can be a woman’s worst enemy — never forget that.

Now, after so many painful lessons, I’ve realized:
No matter how big your job is, or how much you earn, without a husband — a woman is incomplete. And without a wife, a man is incomplete.

That’s what family means: a husband, wife, and children. Nothing else brings true happiness.

This society judges divorced women harshly — even if she’s completely innocent.
Whether it’s strangers or your own family — they look at you differently.

May Allah protect the honor of every sister and daughter, and save us all from pride and arrogance.

Please make dua for me — may Allah bring something good into my life. If not, I fear I will lose even this job, as I spiral deeper into depression.

This story is not fiction. It’s the truth of my life.
Learn from my mistakes, so you never have to live through them.