The Price of Pride: A Woman’s True Story of Love, Loss, and Lessons

I am a working woman, Alhamdulillah, a Grade 18 officer in the Education Department.

Unfortunately, I am a mother of two and divorced.

Women are emotional by nature—they often make decisions driven by emotions, which they shouldn’t. Emotions must be controlled.

I am 37 years old. I got married at the age of 28 within my extended family. My husband was also a government employee in Grade 15, working in the Health Department.

We lived in a joint family until our first child—a son—was born. That time was good. I won’t lie and say there were no problems in the joint family. They were good people. But I never felt comfortable living that way.

I told my husband we should build our own house and move out. Our salaries were sufficient. I even suggested selling the car to build the house first and then buy another car later. He agreed.

I bought the plot with my money, and within a year, we built the house together.

My salary was higher than his. We moved out. Of course, there were little issues—every home has them—but I must confess: I was overly proud of my job. I thought my career was everything, which was the biggest mistake of my life—something I now deeply regret.

Then, my daughter was born. And here’s a hard truth: a woman’s biggest enemy is often another woman. A man may hurt you, but another woman can destroy you.

I had invested more money in building the house, and in my pride and arrogance, I would often taunt my husband about it. That poison destroyed everything.

My cousin, who used to visit frequently, began influencing me negatively. She constantly reminded me I earned more, he earned less—she kept feeding me toxic thoughts. Eventually, I even forgot I had two children.

Fights became frequent. We had bought a car, and I had contributed more financially. One day I told him, “Either pay me back or stop using the car.” It was a casual statement for me, but not for him.

He sold the car and gave me back my money. His elder brother from Canada visited and stayed for three months. Before leaving, he gave the car to him. That hurt me deeply.

Eventually, I demanded my investment back from the house as well. Why? Because I had already decided—under my cousin’s influence—to seek a divorce. May Allah guide her. But those who destroy others' homes never find peace themselves.

My husband gave me the money, left his job, and used the remaining money to start a hotel business. Today, he owns three hotels. And I—a woman drowning in arrogance—became a psychological wreck.

Once I got the money, I demanded a divorce. He and my family tried to stop me, but I refused to listen. My cousin manipulated me further—suggesting her brother-in-law, a major in the army, who was a widower with a daughter. Greedy for status and blinded by pride, I agreed.

My husband agreed to divorce on one condition: that I would not take the children. I accepted.

After the waiting period, my cousin arranged my second marriage. I stayed there for four months. I worked, but they took all my salary. Their home was luxurious, with cars and drivers, yet I traveled in rickshaws.

I took care of his daughter while mine were elsewhere. I was given a monthly allowance of just ten thousand rupees. After eleven months, I found out he was already married in Islamabad.

Despite trying to adjust, he continued to mentally torture me until he pushed me to demand divorce. Eventually, I returned to my parents’ home, and just two months ago, my father—my only true support—passed away.

Now I have a job and a salary but nothing to live for. Today, my mother arranged a meeting with my children. I bought them toys and treats. A short while ago, their father returned those items through his youngest son.

My children are happy with their stepmother. And I... I am broken. My only wish now is to have my children back. I believe if that happens, maybe I can start healing. But it seems impossible. Please pray for me.

To all working women—whether in government or private sectors—no matter who earns more, never let your job become your pride. Money can never buy true happiness.

My younger sister is a government doctor. Her husband works in a private company. They build everything together. When I see them, I hate myself even more.

Why did I do this to myself? Why did this happen?

Often, we see posts blaming men—and yes, many are at fault—but women, too, can ruin themselves out of arrogance and comparison. Don’t repeat my mistakes.

And never, ever let another woman misguide you into destroying your home. A woman’s enemy is often another woman. I've learned that through painful lessons.

A job, wealth, or position doesn’t complete a woman. A man is incomplete without a woman, and a woman is incomplete without a man. A family—husband, wife, and children—is the only true source of happiness. Nothing else compares.

This society will always judge a divorced woman harshly—no matter how pure she is.

I pray Allah blesses all daughters and sisters with good fates, saves us from pride, and brings peace to broken hearts.

This is a real story. Every word is true. A real woman’s life.
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