I Didn’t Leave Comfort—I Left Stagnation

For most of my marriage, my ex lived on the couch.

The TV was always on. His phone was always in his hand. In the early years it was video games, but as time went on it became hours of television or scrolling. It was always what he wanted to watch. If I suggested a movie, it was usually met with resistance—and if I did choose one, he would inevitably fall asleep.

Now, I find genuine joy in something so simple: watching whatever I want, without judgment or commentary. One of my go-to comfort movies, especially on rough days when I need a good laugh, is White Chicks. I’ve seen it more times than I can count, and it still makes me laugh out loud every single time.

My ex never liked watching movies more than once. If he had already seen it, he’d complain—or fall asleep. From what I’ve been told, not much has changed. The couch, the TV, the phone… they’re still the center of his world.

What has changed—beautifully—is life in my home now.

When my child is with me, I’ll put on an older movie—something like Encino Man—and they get completely drawn in. They watch intently, ask questions, and want to talk about it. We have constant conversations about the things they’re interested in, and I can see in their face how much they love that connection. Our bond has flourished in ways I didn’t fully realize were missing before.

We don’t keep the TV on all the time anymore—and that change alone has opened the door to deeper connection, curiosity, and joy.

Sometimes I still wonder why my ex never found a hobby beyond the couch. But I’ve come to understand that when comfort becomes a cage, change feels like a threat. The same was true with his health. He’s in his forties, and I worried for years—tried encouraging healthier choices, tried doing things together—but nothing ever lasted. The resistance was always stronger than the desire to grow.

Looking back now, I see the truth clearly.

I didn’t leave comfort.
I left stagnation.

And in choosing myself, I chose presence, conversation, laughter, and a life that actually feels lived.