By Syed Majid Gilani
There is nothing more painful than watching a beautiful family fall apart because of ego, stubbornness, abuse, betrayal, and the refusal to compromise. Many women, like Nahid, are walking away from faithful, loving, and loyal husbands, not realizing the value of what they have until it is lost forever.
Yawar is not an ordinary man. A good husband who provides, protects, and remains loyal in love is a rare blessing. Sadly, Nahid never saw this. She kept chasing so-called independence under hollow slogans like “my life, my rules,” calling it freedom. In truth, it marked the beginning of lifelong regret.
What Nahid called possessiveness was, in fact, Yawar’s deep care and concern. When Yawar advised her on what to wear or where to go, he did it out of love, not control. He was trying to safeguard his honour, his home, and the woman he loved. However, his voice drowned in the noise of modern slogans, where love was mistaken for restriction, and sincerity for suppression.
Nahid’s family encouraged her to defy Yawar’s concern. They pushed her to label his affection as toxic, urging her to report him, drag him to police stations, courts, and feminist platforms. Nahid painted herself as a victim, portraying Yawar as a narrow-minded, controlling man.
The truth, however, was very different. Yawar only wished to tie Nahid, his parents, and his relatives into an affectionate, unbreakable bond. However, Nahid kept pressurizing him to abandon his parents and lifelong relationships, to revolve solely around her and her family. Yawar resisted, as any respectable, principled man would. And for this, Nahid tried every trick, every mischief, and every tactic to break him down, but she never succeeded.
They filed false, frivolous cases, not realizing the pain of destroying a man’s honour and peace. Those who once clapped for her so-called ‘freedom’ soon disappeared when she was left lonely, sad, and broken. Today, those fake slogans do not pay Nahid’s bills. They do not bring food, clothing, or medicine. The people who once cheered her rebellion are nowhere when she needs them.
They pushed her to fight Yawar, but in the end, she keeps finding herself either begging Yawar for money or filing fresh cases to squeeze more from him. Even then, she shamelessly accepts the money Yawar sends for her and their children. Alas, the very parents who once encouraged her rebellion and supported her in standing against an innocent husband never offer a single rupee from their own pockets. Money was Nahid’s dream, now fulfilled, but at the cost of her peace, dignity, and ruin.
Nahid once took pride in how Yawar cared and spend for her, provided for her, and showered love upon their children. Nevertheless, that same care eventually turned into courtroom paperwork, bitter legal notices, and settlements. And what did she gain? Nothing but isolation.
She fought to keep Yawar’s old parents out of her life. In their marital home, she insisted that his parents should have no place and his relatives should not visit them. She disliked their presence and visits, and demanded that the house belong solely to her. She fought bitterly whenever Yawar refused to sever ties with his family.
Now, Nahid and her children are becoming unwanted members in her own parental home. The very place she once proudly called hers is barely tolerating her. People at her parental home now feel suffocated by her presence, and she is seen as a burden, an unwelcome interruption. When her sisters visit with their husbands and children, it is Nahid, who cooks, cleans, and serves, hiding her tears behind forced smiles.
Time changes everything. Youth fades, parents grow older and eventually leave this world, siblings get busy with their own lives, and Nahid is left alone, with no one who truly wants her, and no one to protect her the way Yawar once did.
The real victims of this stubbornness and ego are the children. A broken marriage robs them of peace, security, and happiness. No matter how hard Nahid tries, she can never be both mother and father. And let’s be honest, most men don’t marry a woman with children from a previous marriage. Nahid herself shut every door with her own hands.
Some greedy, impatient women leave dreaming of a richer man or a more glamorous life. However, the truth is, the grass is rarely greener on the other side. Most of the time, it is an illusion. Nahid is ending up lonelier, more disappointed, and more broken.
She enjoys temporary attention on social media. Likes, comments, messages, and fake admirers give her fleeting thrills. But none of it is real. Those people do not love her; they do not even know her. They might like her posts for a moment, but they vanish without a trace when she is in pain.
Her so-called friends on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, Snapchat, Skype, TikTok, Twitter, WhatsApp, and Telegram, none of them are family. None of them shares her pain. None of them wipes her tears. They simply scroll past her life.
It was heart wrenching for Yawar to discover years after his marriage that the woman he loved for more than a decade had deliberately kept him blocked on all her social media profiles. She had always told him she had no interest in social media. Yawar was shattered when someone from his office showed him Nahid’s posts and stories. While staying connected on social media is a healthy habit for most, Nahid never shared her accounts with Yawar. Instead, she preferred to keep strangers, distant relatives, and far-off acquaintances as friends and followers, yet blocked her own husband, who had no idea she had any social media presence at all.
Nahid always ignored Yawar. She remained glued to her phone, constantly on calls with her parents, siblings, and friends, suffocating the man who truly loved her. Even during long drives, picnics, and outings meant for togetherness, Nahid stayed lost in endless conversations with her parents and siblings. Yawar would look at her face with sheer love, hoping for a conversation, but she tore his heart apart by ignoring him and attending endless calls. Of course, healthy, routine communication was never an issue, but Nahid crossed every limit.
The man she lost is the one who cared when she was tired, the one who did not want her exposing her life to strangers online, the one who felt hurt when she posted pictures or chatted with strangers, not because he was narrow-minded, but because he loved her and wanted to safeguard her dignity.
Especially as a Muslim woman, Nahid knew what her Deen taught, to seek her husband’s permission, to avoid unnecessary interactions with strangers, and to safeguard the sacred bond of marriage. These were not restrictions; they were protections, placed by Allah to preserve her dignity, her heart, and her home.
But when Nahid rejected all of it, when she traded her home for hashtags, when she chose her ego over love, the result is what she’s living now. Because, at the end of the day, when the lights go off, when the followers stop liking her stories, and when her heart begins to ache, there’s no one beside her. No one who truly cares. Except the man she once left, Yawar, the one who would have stood by her through everything.
Syed Majid Gilani is a Government Officer and writer who reflects on family values, moral struggles, and real-life emotions through his heartfelt articles. He can be reached at syedmajid6676@gmail.com
