My name is Mia, 33, and I have been with my husband, Donald, 32, for several years. Since our daughter Evelyn was born, Donald stopped acknowledging my birthday, despite my efforts for his. His neglect was hurtful, as even a simple “Happy Birthday” would have sufficed.

“Why didn’t you cook? You’re so neglectful,” he’d complain, ignoring my feelings. Last year, I reached my breaking point. His forgetfulness and excuses, like “I’m too busy providing for us,” led me to plan an escape.

I found a second job, saved money, and prepared divorce papers. On my 33rd birthday, April 5, he forgot again, choosing to play video games instead. That night, I packed our things and left, leaving a note: “Hope you’ll never forget this date again! Now it’s not only my birthday but the day I became FREE from you!”

Donald’s shock was palpable when he called, but I stood firm. “I was a ghost in our home, invisible and taken for granted. But ghosts eventually move on, seeking peace. That’s what I’m doing now.”

This day marked our freedom and new beginnings, filled with love and recognition we deserved.