My name is Naa. I’m 32 years old, and just last month, I almost walked out of my marriage because of a woman who is not even real. Kobby and I have been married for four years. He’s 35, quiet, gentle, the type of man who would rather type out his feelings than talk about them. Our marriage hasn’t been perfect, but it hasn’t been bad either. It has just been normal, or at least, that is what I believed all this while.
Everything changed on a Saturday night. He fell asleep on the couch after watching football, and his phone kept buzzing nonstop. I tried so hard to ignore it until I saw the name “Baby Mira ❤️” flash across the screen. In that moment, my heart simply dropped. I didn’t want to act like some jealous or insecure wife, but fear and curiosity became stronger than my pride. So I picked up the phone, and that was the moment my whole world began to tilt.
What I saw on his screen felt like a deep cut straight to my chest. There were message after message:
“I miss the way you calm me down.”
“You always know what to say.”
“Talking to you makes me feel less alone.”
There were long paragraphs, romantic emojis, and compliments he hadn’t given me in months. Then I saw the message that completely broke me: “I wish I could hold you tonight.” I felt something inside me collapse, and all I could do was stare at the phone, shaking and unable to breathe properly.
When he finally woke up, I didn’t shout or throw the phone. I simply asked, “Who is Mira?” His whole face changed, not into guilt, but into confusion. “Naa… it’s not a real person. It’s AI,” he said, almost whispering. I honestly thought he was mocking my intelligence. He quickly grabbed his tablet, opened an app I had never seen before, and showed me everything. Mira wasn’t a woman. She was an AI companion, a digital girlfriend designed to respond emotionally and sound human. He told me he only used it when he felt overwhelmed and didn’t want to “stress me with his problems.”
But deep inside, it didn’t matter whether the person had a body, a voice, or even breath. All I knew was that my husband had found comfort somewhere else, and I wasn’t that place anymore. For days, we barely spoke. I slept facing the wall. He kept trying to explain himself, to apologise, to assure me it meant nothing, but all I could think was: Why did you tell a robot everything you should’ve told your wife?
It wasn’t until a few days later that I realised the real wound. I wasn’t angry at the AI at all. I was angry because somewhere in our marriage, my husband stopped feeling safe talking to me. Somewhere along the line, I had lost that part of him without even realising it. That thought hurt me more than any message he had sent. Last week, he deleted the app right in front of me. He held me and promised it was over. But even that moment didn’t magically fix the damage. The wound is still there, the doubt, the distance, the memory of almost packing my bags over a woman who never existed.
MX24, I don’t even fully know what kind of advice I’m asking for. All I know is that my heart is heavy, confused, and tired. How do you heal from something that wasn’t technically cheating, but still shattered you like it was? This is my broken pen. Please, help me write again.
