I grew up in a conservative South Asian family, where we were financially comfortable, but the emotional environment was far from healthy. My father was disrespectful, abusive, and never showed any kindness and respect to my mother, me, or anyone else. By the time I was in middle school, my parents had clearly fallen out of love but stayed together because divorce was taboo in South Asian culture – it still is. The only positive aspect of my childhood was academics. I also used to play tennis and, at one point, thought I could be a professional tennis player. I beat some senior competitors, including some state-level athletes, when I was just 10 or 11. However, my father didn’t care about that success and even destroyed my tennis gear – old used equipment I had received from my cousins – because he believed it would distract me from my studies.
Growing up, I couldn’t wait to leave home. Living with a father who was always cruel and a mother who constantly pitied herself created an unbearable, toxic atmosphere. Luckily, I got the opportunity to attend a decent university after high school, and I’m grateful that my father financially supported my education which wasn’t cheap. I finished my degree and found a job.
My first paycheck was low – barely half of what I was used to spending each month. My friends also came from financially comfortable backgrounds, and we partied hard, hitting clubs and drinking every weekend, with no regard for responsibility. I was young and foolish, convinced myself that this job was beneath me, so I didn’t put much effort into it. During this time, my father’s business went under, and we lost almost everything, sinking into a lower middle-class lifestyle.
In my third year of college, I had met a girl (let’s call her X) at a sports event. We hit it off and became friends. At that time, both of us were in relationships, but eventually, I broke up with my girlfriend for personal reasons, and X had become single as well. Our friendship deepened, and eventually, we fell in love and moved in together. We didn’t have much in common. In fact, we were the opposites. But I thought as people say opposites attract, I thought it will work. I thought with her, I could become more responsible, drink less, and be serious in life. I anyway did a little later in life but don’t think it was because of her. I can’t say I have many fond memories of that period – I was scared of being alone and not very responsible, but at least X respected me. After a previous breakup, I was terrified of being alone again, so I stayed in the relationship, convincing myself I could change. We got married, but shortly after, I lost the job I had always foolishly thought was beneath me. I struggled to find work for the next year, and during that time, my mental health deteriorated. X had a job, so she was the one supporting us financially.
Our marriage was filled with constant arguments. She started calling me names, blaming me for ruining her life, and telling me I was lazy, and useless disregarding my mental state. My depression worsened. There were many times when I thought about ending either the marriage or my life (I still think of ending my life too because of this failed marriage I am in.)
A year later, I moved to New Zealand for further studies, and X joined me. She found a well-paying job in Australia, and we managed to stabilize our finances. I struggled after graduation, and once again, X had to help pay the bills. Living together became a challenge. Whatever love, affection, and respect that were once there seemed to have disappeared, replaced by constant criticism. Nothing I did seemed right, and my lack of action was proof of my laziness, according to her. After my graduation, I pushed X to pursue a master’s degree, and she got into an Ivy League school in the US. We moved to the US, and I paid the bills while she studied. Eventually, she started earning significantly more than I did.
Years later, I began doing better in my career, but my Anxiety Disorder, Depression, and ADHD made it harder for me to keep up. Despite getting some grip on my life, I felt unsupported. There were countless days I would sit in my car, park somewhere, and cry, feeling completely lost. My mental state deteriorated, and we reached a point where we almost separated. However, both our families convinced us to give the relationship another chance, and we did.
Now, we both turned 40 this December, and we have a 2.5-year-old kid, Z. Our marriage is still lifeless. There’s no love, no intimacy, no respect. The only thing keeping us together is Z. Emotionally, I’m exhausted. X’s constant criticism – telling me how useless I am, how I don’t do enough for Z – cuts me deep every day. When we were younger, our sex life was filled with tension, with X constantly telling me I was a terrible lover and selfish. To some extent, I agree, but my own struggles with my mental state and with intimacy, especially with her hygiene, made it hard for me to feel connected. By the time the hygiene issue was addressed, the love had faded.
I am sure now X doesn’t fear of being alone because she has become more confident and knows Z will be with her in her life.
I’m at a breaking point. I’ve stayed in this marriage for Z, but I don’t know how much longer I can live like this. I’m terrified of what would happen if we separated. I know mothers usually get custody of young children, and I fear losing Z from my life. I also fear being alone again. I’m in my 40s now, and I worry I won’t find someone who will love me for who I am. I’m also afraid that I’ll die alone. I know that, as a South Asian man who turned 40, I’m probably not seen as a desirable partner in North America.
I don’t know what to do. How can I get out of this emotional and mental prison? Should I stay in this marriage for the sake of Z, or should I prioritize my own well-being? I also worry that if X and I split, it could affect Z’s view of love and relationships. But I’m not sure how staying together in this toxic environment will affect Z either.
I’m really struggling, and any advice or insight would be deeply appreciated. Thank you for taking the time to read this.
Growing up, I couldn’t wait to leave home. Living with a father who was always cruel and a mother who constantly pitied herself created an unbearable, toxic atmosphere. Luckily, I got the opportunity to attend a decent university after high school, and I’m grateful that my father financially supported my education which wasn’t cheap. I finished my degree and found a job.
My first paycheck was low – barely half of what I was used to spending each month. My friends also came from financially comfortable backgrounds, and we partied hard, hitting clubs and drinking every weekend, with no regard for responsibility. I was young and foolish, convinced myself that this job was beneath me, so I didn’t put much effort into it. During this time, my father’s business went under, and we lost almost everything, sinking into a lower middle-class lifestyle.
In my third year of college, I had met a girl (let’s call her X) at a sports event. We hit it off and became friends. At that time, both of us were in relationships, but eventually, I broke up with my girlfriend for personal reasons, and X had become single as well. Our friendship deepened, and eventually, we fell in love and moved in together. We didn’t have much in common. In fact, we were the opposites. But I thought as people say opposites attract, I thought it will work. I thought with her, I could become more responsible, drink less, and be serious in life. I anyway did a little later in life but don’t think it was because of her. I can’t say I have many fond memories of that period – I was scared of being alone and not very responsible, but at least X respected me. After a previous breakup, I was terrified of being alone again, so I stayed in the relationship, convincing myself I could change. We got married, but shortly after, I lost the job I had always foolishly thought was beneath me. I struggled to find work for the next year, and during that time, my mental health deteriorated. X had a job, so she was the one supporting us financially.
Our marriage was filled with constant arguments. She started calling me names, blaming me for ruining her life, and telling me I was lazy, and useless disregarding my mental state. My depression worsened. There were many times when I thought about ending either the marriage or my life (I still think of ending my life too because of this failed marriage I am in.)
A year later, I moved to New Zealand for further studies, and X joined me. She found a well-paying job in Australia, and we managed to stabilize our finances. I struggled after graduation, and once again, X had to help pay the bills. Living together became a challenge. Whatever love, affection, and respect that were once there seemed to have disappeared, replaced by constant criticism. Nothing I did seemed right, and my lack of action was proof of my laziness, according to her. After my graduation, I pushed X to pursue a master’s degree, and she got into an Ivy League school in the US. We moved to the US, and I paid the bills while she studied. Eventually, she started earning significantly more than I did.
Years later, I began doing better in my career, but my Anxiety Disorder, Depression, and ADHD made it harder for me to keep up. Despite getting some grip on my life, I felt unsupported. There were countless days I would sit in my car, park somewhere, and cry, feeling completely lost. My mental state deteriorated, and we reached a point where we almost separated. However, both our families convinced us to give the relationship another chance, and we did.
Now, we both turned 40 this December, and we have a 2.5-year-old kid, Z. Our marriage is still lifeless. There’s no love, no intimacy, no respect. The only thing keeping us together is Z. Emotionally, I’m exhausted. X’s constant criticism – telling me how useless I am, how I don’t do enough for Z – cuts me deep every day. When we were younger, our sex life was filled with tension, with X constantly telling me I was a terrible lover and selfish. To some extent, I agree, but my own struggles with my mental state and with intimacy, especially with her hygiene, made it hard for me to feel connected. By the time the hygiene issue was addressed, the love had faded.
I am sure now X doesn’t fear of being alone because she has become more confident and knows Z will be with her in her life.
I’m at a breaking point. I’ve stayed in this marriage for Z, but I don’t know how much longer I can live like this. I’m terrified of what would happen if we separated. I know mothers usually get custody of young children, and I fear losing Z from my life. I also fear being alone again. I’m in my 40s now, and I worry I won’t find someone who will love me for who I am. I’m also afraid that I’ll die alone. I know that, as a South Asian man who turned 40, I’m probably not seen as a desirable partner in North America.
I don’t know what to do. How can I get out of this emotional and mental prison? Should I stay in this marriage for the sake of Z, or should I prioritize my own well-being? I also worry that if X and I split, it could affect Z’s view of love and relationships. But I’m not sure how staying together in this toxic environment will affect Z either.
I’m really struggling, and any advice or insight would be deeply appreciated. Thank you for taking the time to read this.