Married right after graduating from school, my husband considered me a waste; when I met him again in Manila three years later, his appearance shocked me deeply. I just smiled—and at that moment I understood: there are revenges that don’t need to be said, just living well is enough.

When we were still married, I used to think I was lucky to marry a successful man. My ex-husband was the director of a real estate company in Ortigas Center (Pasig). The townhouse we lived in in Quezon City, the car in the garage, the annual trips abroad—Singapore, Hong Kong—were all taken care of by him. I hardly had to work, just stayed home to take care of the children, learned to cook and bake, and lived a housewife life. But in return, I had to hear things like: “I didn’t raise you so you could have an opinion”, “Just staying at home and saying you’re tired?”, “You don’t work, how do you know how hard it is to earn money…”.

The marriage dragged on in silent conflicts and ended after 10 years with a property division agreement that I had almost no choice in. I was only allowed to take my 8-year-old son and a little money he “kindly” gave me so that we could be independent.

In the early days after the divorce, I quietly moved into a small rented studio in Mandaluyong. I went back to work despite having little experience; I went to work during the day, took on translation contracts at night, and took my son to school in the morning. People were saying that my ex-husband was about to marry a girl 10 years younger than me, an MC for an online entertainment news site in Makati. She was beautiful, smart, and had been a regular client of his company. Everyone said he was “lucky”—after leaving his ex-wife, he married someone who was young and good at communication.

I didn’t care. I was busy with work, with soft skills, with gradually standing on my own two feet. No one expected that I would gradually become a sales team leader, then promoted to vice president of a company headquartered in BGC (Taguig). As for my ex-husband, he… went downhill.

About the third year after the divorce, I heard that his old company was involved in a big scandal related to an apartment project. He was one of the people who had to leave his position amid the storm. At first, I thought that with his ability, he would eventually find another job. But for the next two years, people still said that he had not returned to the market.

Gradually, people saw that his new wife worked day and night—taking on extra MC shows, accepting cosmetic commercials, livestreaming sales—while he stayed home to take care of his pets and post “life philosophies” online. Old friends recounted: when we met in person, he looked very different—dressed sloppily, lost weight, and spoke awkwardly.

Once, at a class reunion at a BGC coffee shop, I accidentally met him. The man who used to be the pride of the group now sat in a corner, avoiding everyone’s gaze. When I walked in, his eyes quickly glanced over and then looked down, as if to avoid me. I was dressed simply, not showing off, but I still felt the scrutiny of a few people who knew about the past. Someone whispered in my ear: “What did you do to get promoted so quickly? I heard your salary is even higher than your ex-husband’s?”.

I just smiled. And in that moment, I realized: there are revenges that don’t require harsh words—you just need to live a decent, hard-working, and happy life.

The next day, my ex-husband took the initiative to text me. At first, he asked about the children, then asked vaguely about work, then vaguely: “It’s difficult these days”, “business now requires connections to run”. I understood what he wanted, but I only responded politely and then stopped.

I used to be a woman who was looked down upon, labeled as a “freeloader”, “a waste”, and had no voice. Now, I feel more stable and calm. I understand that marriage is not a stage to show off one’s ego, and it is not a place where one person has to shoulder the burden of the other person for the rest of their life.

Sometimes when I think back, I wonder: if I had stayed in my comfort zone, not daring to step out after the divorce—perhaps I would still be stuck in some “swamp” in Manila. But I chose to go, to start over amidst the sound of jeepneys and scorching days. And it turns out that living well—in Quezon City or anywhere else—is the most complete answer.