Woman ends marriage after finding out husband calls her ‘SWMBO’ to his friends

There’s no ifs or buts about it, marriage isn’t easy

One such tale has recently been posted to Mamamia, and it’s the story of a wife who was growing tired with her husband for the lack of effort he was putting into the marriage.

The annonymous woman wrote: “From the moment our son was born, nothing changed for my husband. He stayed in our marital bed whilst I moved into the nursery to do night duty with our son. He continued his long Friday lunches, that always turned into Friday night drinks, because they were networking opportunities. He had always played Thursday night sport – he didn’t ever even miss one week.

“I supported him 100 percent in his role of breadwinner for our family – including happily giving him downtime – and asking my parents for money to support his business.”

The woman continued saying that “the real problem was, the one ting I really wanted from him, he wouldn’t give me. He absolutely hated telling me what his plans were. Would he be home in time for dinner? Could I book a haircut on a Saturday morning? Was he having drinks with his mates straight from work? Who knew – because he certainly refused to tell me.

“He claimed he didn’t have to. It was a weird shift in our marriage that I hadn’t expected – this stubborn reluctance to tell us when he was going to participate in our lives. As a result of his disinterest in participating in our adjusted family life, our marriage, where we had once been ‘best friends’ and an equal partnership, floundered. We fought, and fought about it; I just needed something from him to show we made a difference.”

But things took a dark turn on an unsuspecting morning when the woman’s husband was in the shower and she heard his phone vibrating numerous times.

She decided to check his phone in case something was wrong where she saw she was being referred to by nickname: SWMBO.

Confused and bewildered, the young wife asked her husband what the acronym meant.

“It means ‘She Who Must Be Obeyed’,” he said, casually. I felt like I’d been slapped in the face. It wasn’t a matter of ‘obeying’ me, or asking my permission, as he often complained. It’s not called ‘asking permission’ like he’s a teenager and I’m his mother. It’s called respect.

“Courtesy in checking to see if you’re needed – to say what your plans are. Otherwise, how is that a family? After five years of marriage, this is what I’d become to him. The only thing I ever asked of him – some accountability regarding his whereabouts, was apparently too demanding. And he’d spoken about me like that to his friends.

“What was worse – no one questioned him about it – so did that mean they knew what he meant, because he’d used the term before? I was mortified. And I knew in that moment, there was no coming back from that.

“I was never, ever, going to kiss, let alone sleep with, a man who called me that after 10 years together – even after becoming the mother of his son. This was no longer just about me: we deserved better. It had taken me a lot to get pushed to the edge, but when I was there – I metaphorically jumped. I took my baby and I left my husband the next week.”

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