BMW,
I’m a 30-year-old woman married to a 44-year-old man. When we married, I was pregnant and later discovered he was still legally married to another woman.
We now have two kids, but he no longer supports us financially. I cover all expenses, including our home, while working in another city. He claims to have bought property for the kids, but I suspect he’s lying.
I don’t trust him—he’s secretive, irresponsible and dishonest.
I’m worried my children will one day see this too. How do I handle this situation and protect myself and my kids?
Zanele
Hello Zanele,
Of course, your name sounds quite familiar, but then, you married a man, not a magician—but somehow he’s made your trust, your money and your peace of mind disappear. Let’s unpack this circus act, shall we?
You’re 30, thriving, raising two kids and working in a different city to keep the family afloat. Meanwhile, your husband—who’s 14 years older and allegedly still married to someone else—is out here playing financial hide-and-seek. He’s self-employed, which in this case seems to mean ‘self-unaccountable and he’s stopped contributing to daily expenses, childcare, or anything resembling adult responsibility. But wait—he did send you documents claiming he bought property worth millions for the kids. That’s rich. Literally. Because if he can’t afford diapers, how’s he affording deeds?
Let’s be real: this man is giving ‘dodgy uncle at the family reunion’ energy. He’s secretive, slippery and allergic to accountability. You’re in debt, paying for the house, the kids and probably the emotional labour of pretending this is normal. It’s not. You’re not crazy for feeling suspicious—you’re observant. You’re not bitter—you’re exhausted. And you’re not overreacting—you’re under-supported.
Now, let’s talk strategy. Because while he’s out here playing monopoly, you’re living in the real world and it’s time to flip the board.
Step one: Get clarity. You need to know if he’s legally divorced or just emotionally unavailable. If he’s still married, that’s not just shady—it’s potentially illegal. Consult a lawyer. Not for drama, but for data. You deserve to know where you stand legally, financially and emotionally.
Step two: Protect your assets. If you’re the one paying for everything, make sure your name is on everything. House? Your name. Bank accounts? Yours. Property he allegedly bought? Ask for proof. Not screenshots—legal documents. If he’s lying, you’ll know. If he’s not, you’ll still know. Either way, knowledge is power.
Step three: Set boundaries. Long-distance relationships require trust, communication and mutual effort. You’ve been doing all three solo. That’s not a marriage—it’s a one-woman show. If he’s not contributing, he doesn’t get to make demands. You’re not his ATM, his therapist, or his audience. You’re his partner—or you were supposed to be.
Step four: Think long-term. Your kids are watching. They may be small now, but they’re absorbing everything. One day, they’ll ask questions. You want to be able to say: “I did what was best for us.” That might mean staying and renegotiating the terms of your relationship. It might mean leaving and building a life that doesn’t involve decoding lies and dodging disappointment. Either way, your dignity is non-negotiable.
Step five: Reclaim your joy. You’re making more money now—that’s a win. You’re raising two kids—that’s heroic. You’re seeing through the nonsense—that’s wisdom. Don’t let his chaos cloud your shine. You’re not stuck. You’re standing at a crossroads with a full tank of clarity and a GPS called self-respect.
So here’s your reminder: You’re not asking for too much. You’re asking for the bare minimum—honesty, support and partnership. If he can’t give that, he doesn’t deserve front-row seats to your life. You’re the prize, the plan and the powerhouse. He’s either going to step up or step aside.
And if he chooses the latter? Well, let him go buy imaginary property in his fantasy world. You’ve got real dreams to build and you don’t need a ghost investor to do it.
