John and I had been married two years, and for most of that time, I carried the weight of our life. I paid the bills, rent, groceries everything while he spent his time dreaming of lottery wins. When he finally won $50,000, I thought we’d both benefit, especially since I even helped fund his tickets. But when I asked for a small amount for acting classes, he laughed and said, “My win, my money.”

His words crushed me more than I expected. I reminded him I supported us while he contributed almost nothing, hoping he’d see reason. Instead, he called my dreams “whims” and insisted he owed me nothing. That moment, I realized he didn’t value me or what I’d sacrificed so I decided to teach him a lesson.

When John left town to visit his brother, I packed up everything in our home that I had paid for and it was nearly everything. The couch, kitchenware, electronics gone. When he returned, his face turned pale at the empty space. “What happened?!” he cried, and I said calmly, “Just playing by your rules what’s mine is mine.”

He tried to argue, but had no ground to stand on. I left him in that hollow house and moved into a new place with everything I earned. Days later, his apologies came desperate, emotional, and full of regret. It took time, but eventually, he understood that marriage is about mutual support, not selfish gain—and we slowly began to rebuild, together.