AITA for ending my 20-year marriage after years of neglect following our child’s birth?
For a decade we were inseparable soulmates—then our daughter was born and my wife seemed to switch off overnight. After years of trying, I finally said I was done, and now she wants one last chance.
We married young and spent the first ten years wrapped up in loyalty, affection, and a bond I thought nothing could break. After our daughter’s birth, everything changed—affection, intimacy, softness, and everyday kindness disappeared. I gave time for hormones to settle, then more time, and had repeated talks about what I missed and needed. She didn’t notice the shift, refused counseling, and my home started to feel like I was living with a roommate instead of a partner.
I spent years asking for affection, support, and counseling while feeling like a stranger in my own marriage. When I finally said I was leaving, she broke down, admitted neglect, and begged me to stay—but after a decade of pain, I feel numb and unsure if anything real can be rebuilt.
Married 20 years, we spent the first decade deeply connected—best friends, affectionate, loyal. After our daughter was born (she’s 8 now), my wife’s warmth and intimacy vanished. I waited months for hormones and adjustment, then raised it gently, then repeatedly. She said she hadn’t noticed the change, promised to try, and declined marriage counseling outright. The gap between us hardened into routine.
“I cannot continue in this marriage any longer.”
Over the years I asked for affection, support, therapy—anything to show partnership. Nothing stuck. A few weeks ago I said I would leave. She was shocked, promised again to change, and did try—half-heartedly—but it couldn’t touch a decade of feeling unseen. Last night I told her I needed to be alone to heal.
“I’m pretty much dead inside.”
We told our 8-year-old that Mum and Dad won’t live together anymore, and her heartbreak gutted me. Today my wife is devastated and finally admits she neglected me and ignored my unhappiness; she says she still loves me and wants to grow old together. I hear the words, but I don’t feel them. I haven’t changed my mind and don’t know if I can trust a turnaround now.
🏠 The Aftermath
Right now we’re separated in practice: I’ve said I need to live on my own to heal, and we’ve told our daughter about the change.
We’ve acknowledged we won’t be living together; immediate logistics and schedules still need to be worked out; conversations are raw and emotional.
She is grieving and regretful; I’m numb and mentally exhausted; our daughter is hurting after the announcement. Trust has been eroded, and counseling was previously refused, though accountability has finally been voiced.
You can’t sprint the last mile of a marathon you walked for years.
I feel relief and sorrow at the same time—no victory lap, just the irony that real effort arrived only when I was already gone.
💭 Emotional Reflection
There isn’t a cartoon villain here—parenthood and possible hormonal/identity shifts can change people in ways they don’t notice. But unaddressed neglect, refusal of counseling, and years of unmet needs can hollow out love until apology can’t reach it.
The stakes are a family and an 8-year-old’s heart. Love can motivate change, yet change delayed can feel like no change at all. Accountability arrived, but my capacity to receive it may be gone, and that’s its own grief.
Reasonable people might urge a final, structured try—or say boundaries matter after a decade of pain. Healing and co-parenting well may be the most compassionate goal now.
Reddit weighed in on whether a last chance makes sense after so much time.
A decade of “I’ll try” with no action is your answer—protect your peace and be a great co-parent.
Postpartum changes are real; if she’s finally admitting neglect, consider a time-boxed trial with counseling only if you genuinely want it.
Don’t stay just to model misery—model boundaries, empathy, and consistent parenting instead.
Responses split between “you’re done and that’s okay” and “one structured attempt with therapy,” with most agreeing that any path should center the child’s wellbeing and require sustained action, not words.
🌱 Final Thoughts
Long marriages can end not with fireworks, but with a slow silence that nobody called out soon enough. Accountability matters, but so does timing—and sometimes healing requires distance.
Love brought you together; years of unmet needs pushed you apart. Whether there’s a bridge back depends on more than promises—it depends on consistent change and whether your heart can still meet it.
What do you think?
Would you have left, or stayed and kept trying to make it work? Share your thoughts below 👇









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