I thought I was marrying the perfect man, but I soon realized I was walking into a home where “help” meant servitude,

“love” meant control, and a locked door became a symbol of betrayal. Collins was kind at first,

a quiet, thoughtful man who seemed to care deeply.

But after we moved in with his mom, Jenna, things changed.

The house became a place where I was expected to do everything,

from cleaning to cooking, with no help or appreciation.

Collins’s passive-aggressive behavior and his mother’s criticism wore me down,

and things got worse when I injured myself at work. Collins promised to take care of me,

but that soon turned into a trap.

After I was injured, they locked me in my room and handed me a document outlining strict “household rules” that I hadn’t agreed to.

I realized they were trying to control me, and that’s when I knew I had to get out.

With the help of my sister, I managed to escape and involved the police,

using the agreement as evidence. Collins tried to contest the divorce, but my brother-in-law,

a lawyer, made sure Collins’s behavior was exposed in court.

He lost everything — his job, his house, and his dignity.

Collins even tried to claim I ruined his life, but I knew the truth.

Now, I’m free, and I’m finally able to breathe again.

Collins’s life crumbled after his attempts to control me, and I learned that I am stronger than I thought.