At 37, I Got Married, But On Our Wedding Night, I Saw the Old Bed and Bedding, and I Immediately Went Back to My Mother’s House
At 37, I finally got married, and on our wedding night, I was shocked when I entered the honeymoon room. On our wedding night, I stepped into the room meant for our honeymoon and was stunned. It was the same old bedroom my husband, Long, had been using for years. The bed, sheets, and pillows were worn out and unchanged. Nothing had been prepared to make the night special. I couldn’t hide my disappointment and asked Long why he hadn’t replaced the bedding for such an important occasion. His response was cold and dismissive, accusing me of being unreasonable and pointing out my age as if that justified his lack of effort.
Even before the wedding, I had sensed that Long’s family didn’t truly respect me. They insisted on keeping everything minimal and inexpensive, making me feel unimportant. The lack of care and attention to detail during our wedding preparations left me questioning whether Long had only married me out of convenience, not love. His dismissive attitude that night confirmed my fears and made me feel undervalued.
I couldn’t ignore the hurt. After everything I had sacrificed for my own family—supporting my mother and raising my younger siblings—I couldn’t accept being treated so carelessly. That very night, I packed my belongings and returned to my mother’s house. She didn’t try to stop me but wept for the pain I was going through. The next day, Long called, demanding that I apologize to him and his family, claiming they would graciously forgive me. But I stood firm. I realized I deserved better—respect, care, and love—and I wouldn’t settle for less. Leaving him was the best decision I could have made.