“The Dark Age: Loss, Love, and a Wake-Up Call“

When it came to relationships after everything that had happened, I moved on quickly from my previous marriage. People asked, “Why so fast? Didn’t you love your husband?” And I said, “Why should I grieve for long to something that couldn’t be saved?” For me, it was never just about love—it was about survival. About finding the strength to stand again after everything fell apart.

Just 6 months after I divorced, I met someone new—through a dating site, again. He was Indonesian, said he was single, had a steady job, and was quite attractive. I felt comforted by his presence. After years of struggling in a marriage where I constantly felt small, I finally felt seen. We were together for couple of years.

But I didn’t realize I was stepping into something that would cost me more than I could imagine. I was craving love. I won’t lie—I was also craving physical closeness, the kind of affection I was starved for. Maybe it was compensation I demand because of the failure in my previous marriage. Maybe I thought I was healing. But in reality, I was losing myself.

I let my guard down. I lost control. I ended up pregnant. And then, I lost the baby.

Miscarriage is a word that carries a silence, but the pain it leaves behind is deafening. The grief was unbearable. And he—he who said he cared—refused to take any responsibility. He disappeared emotionally, as if it had nothing to do with him. I was left alone, holding the weight of a life that never had the chance to begin.

And as if that wasn’t enough, one day a woman called me. She said she was his wife. My heart dropped. My mind refused to believe it—but it was true. All those years, I had been the other woman, unknowingly. Betrayed. Lied to. Used. Couple years of my life, wasted on a man who built his love on deception.

Losing a parent or a partner is a pain that leaves you hollow. But losing a child, even one you never got to hold, is a different kind of devastation. I still remember breaking down outside the hospital—my legs gave out, and I fell to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. No one could console me. I was in the darkest place of my life.

This chapter of my life was my dark age. And it almost broke me.

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This story is a part of my personal journey. Please do not copy or reproduce any part of it without permission. Sharing is welcome with proper credit and a link to this blog