Before marriage, my husband was sweet. After? He turned into a “jokester” – flirting with women, especially waitresses, and making me the punchline.

He used to call me “a friend of a friend” at parties. Once, he even told a waitress I was his sister—laughing while I burned with humiliation. When I confronted him, he sneered, “Only insecure women get jealous. I married you. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

That was it. I decided: I won’t cry anymore. I wouldn’t file for divorce immediately—I wanted him to feel what I had felt: small, invisible, unimportant. I played the “cool wife” for weeks, waiting.

Then our anniversary arrived. I told him I had a “special surprise” and took him to the rooftop where we’d had our first date. He smiled—until I pulled out the signed, notarized divorce papers.

Taped to the front was my note: “You said only insecure women get jealous. So this must be what a confident woman looks like.”

For the first time in months, he was speechless. I kissed his cheek gently. “Next time you’re at a bar,” I said, “you can tell the waitress your sister finally grew a spine.”