The cracks in my marriage had been on show for months, Xmas finally shattered it – I walked out on my husband days after

SITTING on her own on New Year’s Eve, Marie Holden (name changed) scrolled through dozens of happy photos of couples and families on Facebook.

She couldn’t hold back the tears — despite being married and having a four-year-old son, she had never before felt so alone.

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Her husband had shut himself away in the lounge after their son had gone to bed.

The lack of interaction was business as usual for the couple, who had been together for seven years and married for 14 months.

They would have a family meal at dinner time but then spend the rest of the evening in separate rooms, with Marie often sleeping in her son’s room.

Marie, 42, says: “I sat on the sofa in our playroom watching the New Year celebrations on TV all alone.

“My husband Paul (name changed) was nodding off in the living room of our three-bed townhouse and our son was fast asleep.

“With a glass of wine in one hand, I scrolled Facebook on my phone with the other.

“It was full of happy New Year’s Eve photos, snaps of joyful families having fun.

“I’d never felt so lonely. I remember thinking, ‘I can’t do this for another year’.

“That was the moment when I knew our marriage had to end.”

Across the country, couples at breaking point will be having these exact same feelings this week.

The pressure to have the perfect Christmas when you are no longer happy with a spouse leads many people to contemplate splitting in January.

‘Feeling desperately sad’

Lawyers have dubbed the first working Monday of the New Year “Divorce Day” because of the spike in people enquiring about breaking up.

One law firm in Wales saw a 150 per cent increase in enquiries in January 2023 compared to the average for November, December and February.

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Grant Stephens, of Grant Stephens Family Law, says: “In terms of stressors in a relationship, Christmas can be right up there with moving house or having a child.”

Things were so different when Marie, then 24, met Paul.

There was a ten-year age gap between them but the relationship quickly became serious.

Marie says: “It was very fast-moving at first and within six months we’d bought our first house together.”

After a couple of years, they had their son and got engaged.

Marie, then a police officer, says: “Life was good.

“But it became obvious that Paul had a very traditional mindset and he thought the husband earns the money and gets to live his life while the woman stays at home and does the cooking, cleaning and childcare.

“That wasn’t what I envisaged my life to be — I believe you can be a good mum and still have ambitions.

“I wanted to be in a relationship where my contribution was equally valued, but I felt that his career always came first.”

Marie, from Waterlooville, Hants, says: “I was having doubts even as we took our wedding vows, but I felt marriage was expected of me.

“I thought, naively, it might solidify our relationship, make us a proper family.

“Over the following year, I tried to make it work, but we were on different paths.

“There was no real love in the house.

“The cracks in our marriage had been on show for months, and that last Christmas together finally shattered it.

“I’d spent Christmas Eve all alone, feeling desperately sad as I wrapped our son’s presents and built him a Lego fire station.

“Getting married and having a child with somebody should be a partnership — but that was long gone.

“Paul and I didn’t talk, or do things together.

“If we ever went out, it was always strained.

“By that stage, the gifts we bought each other were just about keeping up appearances.

“The pants, socks, or aftershave for him, and I’d have got some pyjamas or perfume.

“There was never anything truly thoughtful or heartfelt.

“On Christmas Day we went to my parents’ where, instead of laughter at the dinner table, there were awkward silences between mouthfuls of turkey and stuffing.

“At one point, Dad took me aside.

“He’d sensed something was wrong. ‘If you ever need somewhere to go, our house is always open,’ he told me.

“They would rearrange the bedrooms, do whatever was needed.

“That reassurance planted a seed.

“I knew that if my marriage were to end, I’d have to be the one to physically leave — Paul would never leave the house.

“Now, thanks to my mum and dad, I had options.”

Marie spent the first few days of that New Year in 2014 in a whirlwind of emotion.

“I was trying to be happy and present for my son, but my mind was elsewhere,” she says.

“I had so many questions.

“What if I ended the relationship? What if I left?

“What would that look like? And was it what I really wanted?

“When you have a child, there’s so much pressure to stay together — but is it good for our son to live in a house with parents who can’t really communicate?

“Or was he better off with a mum and dad who lived independently, but still had the capacity to love him?

“This wasn’t a decision to be taken lightly.

“My own happiness was one thing, but I had my child to consider and I had to be sure that whatever I decided it was with his best interests at heart.

“Even after my New Year’s Eve lightbulb moment, I still wasn’t 100 per cent sure.

“But then it got to January 4, and I was in the playroom building Duplo with our son, while Paul was at the gym.

“My phone was pinging — we were in an argument over something that should have been positive.

“I thought, I can’t do this any more, took my son’s hand, and told him we were going to see Nanna and Grandpa.

“Taking just my handbag, we walked out of the house, not realising then that we’d never live in it again.”

But once Marie was out, she knew she could never go back.

“The New Year resolution thing definitely has a mental impact,” she says.

“We’re wired to make big changes at this time of year.

“I’d already mentally checked out of our marriage, and I was standing in Mum and Dad’s kitchen when I said: ‘I can’t go back. Can I stay here?’

“Of course, they said yes.

“So later that evening I broke it to Paul over the phone, and told him I wasn’t coming home.

“We’d drifted too far apart.

“It was better if we had our own space.

“The weight lifted from my shoulders, I’d finally said it out loud.

“At first, Paul couldn’t grasp what I was saying. What did I mean by ‘space’? When was I coming home?

“His texts and calls got overwhelming, as did his anger and frustration, but that just solidified my decision.

“Sure, there were worries over practicalities. But I’d cleared the biggest hurdle — voicing that the marriage was over.”

Sensing an acrimonious separation, Marie hired a solicitor to file for divorce and negotiate a settlement.

She says: “It was never about taking advantage, or revenge.

“It was simply about a fair division of our assets, and securing support for bringing up our son.

“The first few months were so tough.

“I was in my mid-thirties, living back with my parents in my childhood home, but still liable for the mortgage on the house.

“I couldn’t afford to feed us, run a car and pay rent on a new place on top.

“At that point, we negotiated that, in lieu of any child maintenance, Paul would take over the mortgage payments, and I would financially support our son until the house had been sold.

“For a lot of people in a failing relationship, the practicalities of where they go, and the lack of support, are often what holds them back.

“It was scary, but I was no longer living under that black cloud.”

Marie says speaking to a counsellor helped her figure out what she wanted.

“Independence and self-reliance topped the list,” she says.

“I didn’t ever want to be in a position again where a relationship breaks down, and money and power struggles take over.

“I wanted to be financially independent, emotionally independent, and I wanted my ambition and drive back.”

Marie didn’t contemplate dating until the divorce came through nine months later.

“A measly-looking letter dropped through the door of my parents’ home,” she says.

“The divorce had been finalised, I was free to live life my way, and to meet other people without fear of judgment.”

But as a single mum, Marie found dating opportunities were few and far between.

She says: “I found the whole online dating thing so awkward, and having a child makes it even tougher.

“Are you upfront about it? Or do you wait and see where it goes before you tell somebody?

“I only went on a couple of dates from the apps.

“Both times, it came up in conversation that I was a police officer, then I’d cringe when the guy asked me where I kept my handcuffs.”

But Marie made the most of her new-found freedom in other ways — rekindling her old hobbies.

She started writing and performing country-and-western music, and got back into amateur dramatics.

Two years after her divorce was finalised, Marie hooked up with an old acquaintance.

She says: “We’d known each other years back through work and had a lot in common — we were both caring for a child, and had both gone through a divorce in our thirties.

“He slid into my DMs, as they say.

“We went on a date and just clicked.

“We were much more aligned than Paul and I had ever been.

“And by then I was a little older and wiser. I knew myself better.

“We moved in together in 2017 — three years after I left Paul — and married two years later.

“We couldn’t be happier.”