My husband secretly RECORDED me sleeping for months and sent videos to his friends [FULL STORY]

The Path of Grieving

I heard through Alina that Rick started dating someone new a few months later. She’d seen him at the grocery store with a woman looking comfortable and happy.

It stung when she first told me—that sharp feeling in your chest when you hear your ex moved on. But then I sat with it for a while and realized I wasn’t devastated.

I’d been grieving the marriage for so long that the actual end felt more like relief than loss. The woman wasn’t anyone I knew, which made it easier somehow.

I didn’t torture myself imagining them together or comparing myself to her. I just felt this weird acceptance that Rick was living his life and I was living mine and those lives didn’t overlap anymore.

Alina asked if I was okay and I told her honestly that I was. She looked surprised but pleased.,

I went on a few dates myself through a dating app—nothing serious, just coffee or dinner with different guys to see what was out there. I found that I was way more cautious about privacy and boundaries than I used to be.

On the second date with this guy named Mark, he made a joke about checking my phone and I shut that down immediately. I told potential partners upfront that I needed to take things slow and if they seemed pushy or dismissive of boundaries, I ended it right there.

I’d learned to trust my instincts when something felt off instead of ignoring red flags like I did with Rick. One guy seemed great until he mentioned he had cameras in every room of his house for security.

I finished my coffee and left. Maybe it was innocent, maybe not, but I wasn’t taking chances anymore.

Finality and Sunshine

The divorce got finalized on a random Tuesday in April. I took the afternoon off work to process the emotions.

The hearing lasted maybe 15 minutes. The judge asked some basic questions, verified we’d agreed on everything, signed some papers, and that was it.

Three years of marriage ended in a courtroom that smelled like floor cleaner. I walked out into the spring sunshine and felt sad but also lighter, like I’d been carrying something heavy for months and finally set it down.,

I sat in my car for a while just breathing. Then I called Alina and asked if she wanted to go out for dinner to mark the occasion.

She said absolutely and that she was proud of me. We went to this Italian place, and I ordered wine and pasta and let myself feel whatever came up without judging it.

A Normal Encounter

Six months after the divorce, I ran into Rick at the grocery store. I was in the produce section trying to figure out which apples to buy when I heard someone say my name.

I turned around and there he was, looking healthy and rested. We had a brief conversation that felt surprisingly normal. ,

He asked how I was doing; I asked about his job. He mentioned he’d moved into a new place.

I told him about my promotion at work. We talked for maybe five minutes and I realized I didn’t feel angry or hurt seeing him anymore—just this distant fondness for someone I used to know well.

He looked different somehow, more relaxed, and I wondered if I looked different to him too. We said goodbye and went our separate ways in the store and I felt okay about it.

Not happy, not sad, just okay.

I started sleeping better in my own apartment. The hyper-awareness of cameras faded gradually.

I stopped checking every corner and scanning for recording lights. The bedroom felt safe again—truly safe in a way it hadn’t since I first discovered Rick’s videos. ,

I could sleep with my mouth open and my hair messy and not care because no one was watching or judging or sharing videos with their friends. Living alone helped me reclaim the privacy and peace that the recordings and revenge both destroyed.

Some nights I’d wake up and just appreciate the silence and the safety. No paranoia, no fear, just sleep.

I bought myself nice sheets and a comfortable pillow and made my bedroom into a place I actually wanted to be instead of a battlefield.

Lessons from the Battle

A year after the divorce, I sat in my apartment one evening and reflected on everything that happened. We both made terrible choices that hurt each other badly.

The recordings were a violation I’d never fully get over. Sometimes I still checked for cameras in hotel rooms or at friends’ houses.

That paranoia became part of me in a way I couldn’t completely shake. And my revenge crossed lines I wasn’t proud of. ,

I deliberately terrorized Rick and destroyed his sleep and his sense of safety. I couldn’t pretend that was okay just because he hurt me first.

But I’d learned important lessons about boundaries and consent and healthy ways to handle betrayal. I learned that revenge doesn’t actually heal anything.

I learned that some violations are unforgivable and that’s okay. I learned to trust my instincts and walk away when something feels wrong.

The marriage ended badly, but I came out of it stronger and more aware of what I needed and deserved.

A New Responsibility

Three months after the divorce was final, my boss called me into her office and I thought maybe I was in trouble for something. Instead, she offered me a promotion to senior billing specialist with a 15% pay raise and my own small team to manage.

I said yes immediately without even thinking about it because, for the first time in years, I felt like I could handle more responsibility instead of barely keeping my head above water. The extra money meant I could afford a nicer apartment or save for an actual vacation instead of just surviving paycheck to paycheck. ,

I started the new role two weeks later and discovered I was actually good at managing people and solving problems when my brain wasn’t consumed with revenge plots or marriage drama. My co-workers congratulated me and took me out for drinks after work.

I realized I’d been so wrapped up in the Rick situation that I’d stopped being a real person with goals and ambitions beyond just getting through each day.

The Anniversary Text

On what would have been our fifth wedding anniversary, my phone buzzed with a text from Rick. I almost didn’t open it because I figured it would either be angry or pathetic.

But instead, it just said he was sorry for everything and hoped I was doing well. I sat with my coffee and stared at the message for a while, then wrote back that I appreciated him reaching out and hoped he was happy and healthy too.

We texted back and forth for maybe 10 minutes—just simple stuff about how we were both doing better now and how the divorce was probably the right choice even though getting there sucked. ,

He mentioned he was seeing someone new and asked if I was dating, and I told him I’d gone on a few dates but nothing serious yet. The conversation felt weird but not bad, like talking to someone I used to know in college instead of someone who violated my privacy for months.

We ended by agreeing we were better apart and wishing each other well, and I actually meant it instead of just being polite.

Finding a Community

My therapist suggested I look into support groups for people dealing with privacy violations, so I found one that met Tuesday evenings at a community center downtown. The first meeting, I walked into a room with eight other people sitting in a circle.

When it was my turn to share, I told them about the sleep recordings and how I still checked hotel rooms for cameras two years later. Hearing other people’s stories made me feel less alone because they all understood the specific violation of having your private moments turned into entertainment without your consent. ,

One woman had her ex install cameras in her bathroom; another guy had his roommate recording him changing clothes. We all nodded when someone described the paranoia that never fully goes away.

I kept going to meetings every week and found myself opening up more about the revenge stuff too. Admitting I’d crossed lines trying to hurt Rick back and that guilt sat heavy sometimes.

The group didn’t judge me for it, just listened and shared their own complicated feelings about wanting revenge versus wanting healing. And slowly I started feeling less broken.

Relearning Happiness

Two years after everything exploded with Rick, I met someone at a friend’s birthday party who actually listened when I explained my boundaries about privacy and consent. We started dating slowly, having actual conversations about comfort levels and what we both needed to feel safe in a relationship.

He never tried to rush me into anything physical and checked in constantly about whether I was okay with how things were progressing. I told him about the recordings on our fourth date because I wanted him to understand why I was careful about certain things. ,

He just nodded and said he respected that and would never do anything to make me feel watched or violated. We’ve been together six months now and I’m genuinely happy in ways I didn’t think were possible after the Rick disaster.

I can sleep next to him without wondering if he’s filming me, and when he says he respects my boundaries, I actually believe him because he proves it with his actions every single day. Looking back at everything that happened, the recordings and revenge and divorce all felt terrible while I was living through it.

But I came out stronger and smarter about what healthy relationships actually look like, and I wouldn’t trade that knowledge for anything.