I’m Trisha, 39. My husband Steven and I have been together almost seven years, but somehow our shared dream has faded. Steven’s always said he isn’t “built” for a 9-to-5—he’s a creative, always drifting between music, fleeting business ideas, and odd freelance gigs. When we fell in love, I admired his drive, and I truly believed all he needed was someone to believe in him. I was happy to be his support system—for a while.
Fast forward a few years and reality bit. I’m working long hours and juggling side hustles to cover 90% of our bills: rent, groceries, insurance, car payments… everything. At first, I was proud of my independence; I pictured Steven eventually finding footing and contributing. But he never did. Worse, he acted like my full-time workload was totally normal.
Our conversations became surface-level; we stopped talking about dreams or future plans and just existed side by side. When I confessed I felt exhausted and disconnected, he said, “Well, you’re always working.” That hurt. Of course I am—someone has to. Whenever I brought up money or suggested he look for steady work, he shrugged, asked me to “make it happen,” and insisted I was “overthinking.”
Resentment built. I realized I’d built a life around supporting someone who didn’t want to build anything with me. Every month, I felt less like a partner and more like a provider. I found myself dreading home, feeling used. The imbalance crippled our marriage: I carried the financial, emotional, and mental burden. Steven’s reply? “You knew how I was when you married me.”
Maybe he’s right, but I see now that what looked like creative ambition was never going to change. I grew, but he stayed stagnant. I can’t keep sacrificing myself for a dream that isn’t even mine anymore. So now, I’m ready to move on—even if leaving means starting over.
AITAH for being done carrying all the weight when my husband refuses to share the load, even if his creativity means so much to him?
