It seems everyone I know is divorcing, writes JANA HOCKING. Now five women tell me precisely what made them loathe their husbands – and what they did about it

Welcome to Sealed Section, Jana Hocking’s brand-new column exclusively for Mail+ readers. Every week she’ll be bringing the most brutally candid true-life confessions about sex, relationships and more. This week, five women open up about what their husbands did that made them lose hope in their marriages… 

Nothing makes me grasp for my phone faster than seeing a message pop up from a friend announcing that someone we know is getting a divorce.

‘Did you hear so-and-so have separated?’ ‘She packed up and left the house last night!’ ‘Rumour has it he ran off with his secretary.’

Shock, heartbreak and a side of juicy intrigue – within minutes texts are feverishly exchanged as everyone starts to speculate who initiated it, who had the affair, and what brought it on.

Because divorces aren’t just simple break-ups; there’s so much more on the line. They require expensive lawyers, dividing of assets, and splitting the family in two.

Having come from a family that did things the ‘old-fashioned way’ – parents arguing endlessly until my siblings and I moved out before they finally threw in the towel – I can say without a shadow of a doubt that this is the worst way to handle things. Did my parents hate each other? Oh, yes. With a fierceness that’s hard to forget. But the shame of divorce was too great during my childhood, so they sucked it up and made everyone’s life a misery until we were all in our early twenties. Only then – when the last child had flown the nest – did they call in the lawyers.

Flash-forward two decades or so and all my friends are roughly the same age my parents were during the darkest days of their marriage, and I have to say, not much has changed. Me personally? I’ve become a sad-but-smug singleton. But when I look around my social circle, I see many are in miserable marriages.

Most of them stay for reasons that are highly relatable: it’s too expensive, they would have to downgrade their houses, cars and lifestyles. It would upset the kids. Some of them gaslight themselves into believing ‘it’s not really that bad’ – sacrificing their self-esteem, sex lives and overall happiness in the process.

So, I wanted to chat with women who were brave enough to initiate their divorces. Women who had the courage to say ‘I don’t’ after vowing ’til death do us part’, knowing they’d be far happier on the other side…

Divorcee #1: ‘He worked all the time, so I cheated on him’

• Age: 30
• Profession: Urban development
• City/state: Melbourne, Victoria
• Length of marriage: Married two and a half years, but together almost 11

We met when we were quite young (me 19, him 20). As career-driven people, we both worked high-stress jobs after getting married, but towards the end of 2022, I decided to switch to a less stressful role, while he started on a new project at work that turned out to be the project from hell.

It was bad from the first week. He was working late, which I always accepted as part of his career in consulting, but as time went on, it got worse. We had committed to going on an overseas holiday over Christmas but nothing had been booked, and by October it was difficult to pin him down to have a conversation about anything – he was always working or his mind was elsewhere. Booking that trip was like pulling teeth. 

We did go on the holiday and had a great time because we were finally connecting again, but by the last week I was having panic attacks about going home. I didn’t want to go back to the way things were. I hadn’t realised until that moment how much the last few months had affected me. We had a big chat about it, and he promised to set better boundaries with work and be more present.

Instead it got worse. He would finish work at 3am, which meant he was burnt out and tired on weekends. He couldn’t tell me how I could support him, so I was left frustrated and resentful.

He stopped being a person; he was just a consultant. He barely ate, barely slept, couldn’t hold a conversation about anything except work. It was breaking my heart to watch it happen. I felt so alone, ashamed and helpless, unable to do anything to fix what was happening in my marriage. And he couldn’t – or wouldn’t – let me help him.

I eventually reached a point where I thought, ‘I can’t keep waiting for him to do fun things with me.’ So I started spending more time with one particular group of friends.

A few friends in this group had recently left long-term relationships (albeit not marriages), so I felt comfortable opening up to them. They got it.

Then one day, a friend in this group kissed me after a night out. And I couldn’t get it out of my mind. My sex life had been dead. I had struggled with my self-esteem due to weight gain over the previous few years and what I now know was depression. But this person desired me. Me! Just as I was, slightly chubby and sad.

It was not an all-out affair right away. More just flirting and sneaking kisses when we were alone. But as time went on, more lines were crossed. I was still committed to my marriage – and I vowed my husband would never find out. I didn’t stray because I hated him; I just yearned to feel desired and escape from my unhappy home life, if only for a brief moment.

But two months into the affair, I decided to leave my husband. I wasn’t the cheating type, and it suddenly dawned on me that if I was being unfaithful – something I thought I would never do – then I just wasn’t ‘in’ the marriage anymore.

One women tells Jana her consultant husband’s workaholism drove her to have an affair, even though she ‘wasn’t the cheating type’ (photo posed by models)

I started checking real estate websites for one-bedroom apartments and drafted a budget to see if I could afford to live on my own. I felt sick to my stomach when I realised I could – and comfortably. Financial concerns were the one thing holding me back at this stage, and knowing I could live independently meant there was nothing keeping me tethered to my marriage anymore.

Around this time, I was on a night out with my girlfriends and told them how unhappy I was. They all looked at me with pity. I knew it was time. 

I got home from work one Thursday and said to my husband, ‘I can’t and don’t want to do this anymore’. His face dropped. It was desperately sad. I can still see it in my mind today. His beautiful face just filled with complete despair. 

I told him all the reasons why I didn’t think our marriage was working. The resentment, the contempt, the lack of boundaries with work, the lack of sex life, the not listening to what I was actually saying (the fight over doing the dishes is never about the dishes). I was just done.

That was just over a year ago now. Initially we stayed in touch and even tried to rekindle things by dating like we used to. But then he found out about my affair and firmly ended things, which was fair enough.

I sank in to a major depressive episode as I finally felt the grief of my marriage ending. It’s been a process and something I think will never leave me, but life grows around grief and it gets better. I do still get sad sometimes, and we are yet to finalise our divorce so that brings up a strange mix of feelings.

I don’t regret leaving my husband, but I do regret cheating. I ended the affair pretty much as soon as I moved into my own place. I am no longer in touch with that person. The affair did not need to happen… I know our marriage would have ended regardless.

I still have a lot of guilt – which I am working through in therapy – about how I behaved towards him, that I wasn’t supportive enough, or kind or understanding. And about the affair – how cruel it was to do that. But I also know it was not my actions alone that led to the split.

Funnily enough, I don’t regret marrying him. I loved him and he loved me, and I only look back with gratitude. We are still friends, and I am so thankful I loved and went through this with someone like him. Today, he is kind, empathetic, patient and understanding.

I’m dating again. I hit the apps straight away but I struggled with – and still do – the niggling feeling that it’s all ‘too soon’. 

Then I met the man who is now my boyfriend. It’s fairly new still, but he has shown me what it’s like to be heard, to have my needs met. Friends keep saying, ‘You’re glowing – you seem so much happier!’ 

In some ways he’s similar to my ex but also different in all the ways that I need. He even knows of my affair and doesn’t judge me for it. Put us on a billboard, Hinge!

Divorcee #2: ‘Sex was all about his pleasure, never mine’

• Age: 47
• Profession: Senior management
• City/state: NSW
• Length of marriage: 13 years

I loved my husband for being independent and strong – but it was these characteristics that also led me to resent him. He would show a lack of empathy for me and others. He was so stubborn in his decision-making; everything was black and white. He also lacked the ability to accept when he’d done something to upset me.

As the years went by, he lost interest in engaging with my friends and my family. It reached the point I stopped inviting him to events, or would deliberately arrange get-togethers at a time I knew he wouldn’t available.

On the rare occasions we did go out as a couple, he had a habit of making hurtful, judgmental remarks using the royal ‘we’ as if I shared his views. When I mentioned this was bothering me – especially when he did this in front of my friends and family – he’d brush it off and say, ‘It was just a joke’ or ‘you need to get over it’.

As for our sex life, it was all about his pleasure, never mine.

I realised my marriage was over on a work trip. I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t have an affair. It was just a wake-up call. I used to enjoy meeting new people, staying in touch, learning about others, but on that trip I realised I’d lost my spark.

Our second divorcee says her married sex life was all about her husband’s pleasure, not hers (stock image). But the issues in the bedroom were just the tip of the iceberg

I decided to end my marriage while driving home one evening. I got home and told him that, while I loved him and our time we’d had together, I was no longer in love and couldn’t keep doing this. He was completely blindsided and tried to fight me on it for months, but my decision was made.

It’s been four years now. I have absolutely no regrets. Yes, anyone going through a divorce will have the odd ‘what the hell have I done?’ moment, but for me, any doubts I had soon disappeared.

As far as dating is concerned, I’ve met my share of d***heads since leaving my husband. But now I’ve found the perfect guy – a man in uniform! – and, yes, the sex is phenomenal.

Divorce #3: ‘He told me to “get over” my miscarriage’

• Age: 34
• Profession: Banking
• City/state: Auckland, New Zealand
• Length of marriage: Two years

The man I married was carefree and spontaneous. But three months in, we were hit by an unthinkable tragedy and his reaction shocked me to my core.

I had a miscarriage and he told me to ‘get over it’. I realised then that ‘carefree’ was actually him being blasé and that we weren’t emotionally compatible.

We did end up having a child together, but when I was diagnosed with postnatal depression, he told me I wasn’t actually depressed, I was just ‘ungrateful’. 

On our baby’s first birthday, I had this ‘epiphany’ where I knew I didn’t want our child to have any of my husband’s values or characteristics.

Our child was barely four months old when we had our first conversation about potentially separating. But we didn’t take any action. 

I planned the eventual divorce conversation for about six months. He was completely blindsided. He said he thought I’d never actually leave.

Five years have passed and my one regret is not ending it sooner.

A New Zealand woman tells Jana her husband told her to ‘get over’ a miscarriage (stock image)

Divorcee #4: ‘I fell in love with his potential… it never materialised’

• Age: 51
• Profession: Business consultant
• City/state: Sydney, NSW
• Length of marriage: 24 years (together for 27 years)

If I’m being completely honest, the marriage started to crumble after about five years, soon after our son was born. Yet I stayed for more than 20 years.

When we married, my husband was fun, funny and full of adventure and potential. But after having children, I found myself carrying the entire domestic load – all the cooking, cleaning, washing childcare fell to me. He was shockingly lazy. I clearly fell in love with his potential – which never materialised.

I was continuously putting in time and effort into supporting the kids, looking after the house, being the main breadwinner, staying healthy and fit, caring about my appearance and my work.

But he didn’t.

It was like I kept moving forward while he stayed stagnant – and at some point, he even seemed to regress. He became more dependent on me than our children were, and I had this moment where I thought, ‘Wait a minute – my kids are becoming more independent, yet I still have this high-maintenance adult male with a shocking level of learned helplessness.’ And I realised I was enabling it.

There wasn’t a final deal-breaker. It was a culmination of me being too tolerant over too long a period. I slowly felt like I was losing myself. My family was concerned about my wellbeing, and I realised the only way to truly hold him accountable was to walk away.

Despite regularly broaching the subject, he showed no interest in changing. He told me he loved me, but deep down, I never felt valued, respected or truly loved. That disconnect became impossible to ignore, and I grew increasingly worried about his unhealthy behaviour and him being a poor role model to our children. Our division of labour was also terribly skewed – I was doing 90 per cent of the heavy lifting while he consistently fell short. It got to the point where not having him around meant less work for me.

Now that I’m on the other side of the process, I’ve come to realise just how narcissistic he was. I was making excuses to myself – and others – for his rubbish behaviour. The expectations I had of him were the non-negotiable basics that I should have held him accountable for long ago. In hindsight, I can see that I gave him far too many second chances. 

Jana heard from one woman who realised she was married to a man-child (stock image)

One day, I sat him down and told him we were simply not on the same page about too many things. I told him I couldn’t see a future together because we were so deeply misaligned. I laid out what I was going to do next – and none of it was negotiable.

Within a week, I arranged a mediator to help with the division of assets and to sort out all the issues regarding custody of the children.

I made the decision to tell him I was divorcing him a few months before having the actual conversation. I started preparing, doing my research, and leaned on a small, trusted group of girlfriends who supported me as I navigated through it all.

For him it was a bold out of the blue. His lack of self-awareness was staggering, and despite the fact I’d raised concerns countless times, he had remained oblivious. He even asked for specific examples to justify my decision – which I refused to provide. He wanted a reason he could explain to others. I told him that his inability to listen and understand why I was leaving was precisely why the marriage was ending. Every interaction became unbearable because of our deep misalignment.

He then asked if I would change my mind if we went to counselling. I told him I’d be happy to go to help him process my decision, but I wasn’t going to change my mind. His response was that there was no point going – clearly, he only wanted to do it to pacify me, not to take a hard look in the mirror.

I ended the marriage exactly two years ago. The only regret I have is that I didn’t do it sooner. 

I’ve been dating on and off since, and it’s been surprisingly fun! Interestingly, I’ve found that the best dating app for me is the career-focused website LinkedIn, although for some reasons I am either attracting 34-year-olds, married men or emotionally unavailable lovers. Because of my experience with my ex I know the red flags when I seem them and I won’t tolerate anyone who falls short. I’m currently single, but I have to admit my first date in 27 years was exhilarating.

Divorcee #5: ‘He set up a Tinder account’ 

• Age: 43
• Profession: Manager for a mining company
• City or state you live in: WA
• Length of marriage: 13 years married, together for 30 years

We were high school sweethearts – together for a total of 30 years and married for 13 before I finally walked away after the last 18 months deteriorated into utter hell. 

I took a role with a major mining company in 2022, and was promoted twice. I was overweight at the time, but started to slim down in 2023. He couldn’t handle my new appearance and the fact I was making double the amount he was. I became more confident and started to speak my mind about wanting more for myself, and my career.

One jealous husband’s obsession with his wife cheating backfired when she eventually left him – and she is now having the best sex of her life with a string of lovers (photo posed by models)

He started to accuse me of cheating and kept trying to cage me in. One night, he purposely set up a Tinder account, and made sure I knew by sending me the verification email! That was the last straw. He thought it would make me beg him to stay. But it had the opposite effect.

I decided I was done with the marriage. I was over his childish games and how he constantly flipped between ‘I love you’ and ‘I hate you’. One day he packed his stuff and said he was leaving, and staying in a hotel. I replied: ‘All good, don’t come back.’

So our marriage ended in May this year and I couldn’t be happier. 

He was the first and only man I’d ever had sex with so entering the dating scene was scary. But I’m now seeing three men, and when I feel like sex, I have two in my DMs ready whenever I am!