I’m Peter Mwangi, a 42-year-old entrepreneur hustling in Nakuru. On the surface, my hubby-wife duo seemed like Instagram gold: cheeky grins and family snaps every Sunday. But zoom in, and our bond was fraying at the edges. We’d drifted into this chilly limbo where cuddles turned cold, and chats fizzled into awkward pauses or petty spats. I’d roll in late from “work”, dodging the quiet house, but truth be told, the old magic just wasn’t there. Post our youngest’s arrival, my better half pulled back, kind of distant, like the fire dimmed.
I still adored her to bits, but that effortless vibe? Vanished. It twisted my gut; I craved the laughs and late-night whispers we used to share. There were nights I toyed with packing bags – crazy, right? I knew bailing wasn’t the answer, yet the void gnawed at me. No wandering eyes on the side, thank goodness, but my mind wandered to “what ifs” with strangers. Yikes. I hit up prayers and even dragged us to therapy sessions, but the gap widened like a stubborn chasm. One chill evening, venting to a long-time buddy over brews, I spilt the beans. Continue Reading.