Unwrapping the Christmas gift from my husband, my heart was in my mouth. The previous year he’d given me a bain-marie – a device to keep food warm – after his parents complained meals at ours were cold. I was not impressed.

So had the penny finally dropped? Had Mike got me the watch I’d given so many hints about? As I tore off the paper to reveal a luxury make-up palette and boxed pair of gloves, he looked delighted with himself. I, meanwhile, was furious.

While they might sound like pleasant enough, if unadventurous, gifts, they were a step down even from a kitchen gadget. Because I knew he hadn’t paid for them. They were items he’d got out of the lost property box in the shop he managed.

While the penny clearly hadn’t dropped for Mike about what would make his wife happy, at that moment it did for me. Six weeks later I told him I wanted a divorce.

the و I و a – تفاصيل مهمة

As the saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words. In this case, so were my husband’s ‘gifts’.

Done properly, gifts can symbolise love and care. Psychologists say they can even help to rebuild a relationship or marriage, fostering kindness and warmth between giver and receiver.

But my little stash of lost property was the perfect illustration of Mike’s general lack of thoughtfulness and respect for me – problems that had been slowly building for years.

I mean, the gloves weren’t even my size! They were an extra small – I’m 5ft 9in and the daughter of a rugby player so, at best, they might have fitted me when I was a child.

and و of و a – تفاصيل مهمة

Of course, had our marriage been a source of love and mutual respect, such a terrible present wouldn’t have been a reason to end it. I might even have seen the funny side and teased my husband – the father of my sons, then aged nine and 15 – about his festive howler.

In return, he would surely have felt mortified and immediately set about rectifying his error with a suitably personal – and paid for – gift. But we were not in a good place and Mike couldn’t see what he’d done wrong; I realised there was no going back.

Of course, it hadn’t always been like this. When we met in 2003 on a night out, I’d never have imagined that one day something as innocuous as a make-up palette would be the thing that killed our marriage.

a و that و in – تفاصيل مهمة

We were 21 and 23 when we started dating – attracted not just physically but by our ability to make each other laugh and the fact we were both sociable with lots of friends.

After a year we moved in together and not long after that I unexpectedly got pregnant. But we were delighted with the arrival of our son and then his brother six years later.

The only thoughtful present Mike ever gave me was a necklace bearing our sons’ initials, which was really sweet, but generally gift-giving wasn’t his forte and I’d have to give strong hints. At least that way I got things I wanted.

As the boys grew, life became a whirl of work – I’m an office manager – and all the responsibilities that come with having two school-age children.

and و a و that – تفاصيل مهمة

But while he could be hands on when he wanted, I felt that Mike prioritised everything else in his life ahead of me. He seemed oblivious to – or ignored – the fact that I was working full time, doing the school runs, managing the home, organising the food shopping and facilitating all the weekend activities with the kids.

Undermining me with the boys also became his modus operandi. Take the time my eldest asked for a mobile phone when he was only ten in 2014. I told him: ‘Absolutely not until you’re 12.’ Weeks later, Mike bought him a phone without discussing it with me.

The same thing happened when I’d declined our youngest’s requests for a gerbil. Mike took him out against my wishes and bought him one. I ended up looking after it, which is why I’d said ‘no’ in the first place.

By 2020 it was dawning on me that I deserved better. And when we were then forced to spend all our time together during the pandemic it was clear we’d drifted very far apart. In an effort to revive our marriage, I organised date nights and suggested couples counselling, but Mike wasn’t interested.

I even started yoga and therapy sessions to try to feel calmer around him. Jolly and upbeat by nature, I hated the snappy, anxious person I was becoming.

His Christmas ‘presents’ of lost make-up and gloves in 2021 just showed how futile all my effort was. Worse, when I tackled him about it – I admit I yelled at him ‘I cannot believe you’ve given me these!’ – not only did he try to laugh it off, but he lied and told me I was mistaken.

Clearly, he’d forgotten I’d popped into his shoe shop the afternoon a woman had left behind a shopping bag after putting it down to try on some heels. One of his young employees, I remembered, had rummaged through the bag, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the make-up.

I و the و and – تفاصيل مهمة

‘You know the deal, six weeks in lost property and if it’s still unclaimed, you can help yourself,’ Mike said to her. Well, she didn’t stand a chance because he’d obviously got his own eyes on it.

After he’d had a few drinks that Christmas lunch, I ordered Mike to tell me the truth: ‘Be honest, are they from your lost property cupboard at work?’

He bumbled and blustered before admitting that they were. While tears prickled in my eyes, his family looked on, laughing and saying how hilarious they found it.

Undoubtedly Mike did a stupid thing but I was also extra sensitive because Christmas has always been a special time for me. My own mum, who died not long after our eldest was born, loved Christmas. She sprinkled magic all over it and taught me the art of thoughtful gift-giving.

a و they و and – تفاصيل مهمة

My brother and I would write to Santa and ask for one main present and a few bits. Our parents were both teachers and wanted us to appreciate our gifts, not expect piles of things we wouldn’t play with. For an extra dose of magic, we’d always get something we’d really wanted but had forgotten to put on our lists.

Because of them, I always listen closely to what people might want, down to finding pink golf balls for a golf fanatic friend who adores anything pink.

That Christmas I’d given Mike a clay pigeon shooting experience for him and his father, as he’d mentioned wanting to take it up as a hobby. If only he had been so thoughtful.

To have received a treat like a piece of jewellery or a handbag, or just some time off from being a mum would have meant so much. He gave little sign of making amends after Christmas, either, though I made him take me to the January sales and buy me lots of new clothes.

a و of و to – تفاصيل مهمة

We had a few rows over the lost property present. But he couldn’t see how hurtful it was. In fact, he told me to ‘get over it’.

When I told him I wanted a divorce, at first he was surprised. I don’t think he thought I’d ever be strong enough to actually end our marriage. Once he’d realised I was being serious he accepted it and agreed that we had been growing apart.

I said I’d had enough of being taken for granted, that he never appreciated me and I deserved better. It was just a relief to say it out loud to him.

Since our divorce, which was finalised last year, I’ve met a new partner, one who listens and remembers things I’ve mentioned that I might want or need.

I و he و was – تفاصيل مهمة

Gifts have included a beautiful necklace with my birthstone in it, a canvas bearing mine and the children’s names and dates of birth, and he often surprises me with flowers ‘just because’.

So to any husbands who give their wife a woeful gift this year, I say this: if you value your marriage and your wife, it’s time to make amends, and fast, or risk a trip to the divorce courts!

It doesn’t matter if something costs a tenner or £1,000, the greatest gift you can possibly give to her is something personal that shows just how important she is to you.

Mike’s name has been changed.

to و a و give – تفاصيل مهمة

As told to SADIE NICHOLAS