AITA for being hurt that my husband secretly tried to prevent pregnancy while pretending we were trying?

During a casual moment on our date night, my husband admitted he secretly made sure we wouldn’t conceive back when I desperately wanted a baby—and now I’m questioning the honesty I believed our entire relationship was built on.

My husband and I have been together for 12 years and married for 6. One thing I have always adored about him is how deeply he seemed to love me and how honest he always claimed to be. When we were around 23, I wanted a baby very badly. We tried for about a year, every single day, and it never happened. Looking back, I know we were young and life turned out better without having kids so early. But back then, it mattered to me, and I believed he was trying too. On our recent date, while we were reminiscing, he casually admitted that during that entire period he would masturbate before we had sex to “reduce the risk” of pregnancy. He said he told me now only because I mentioned being glad we didn’t become parents. I felt blindsided. It wasn’t a joke or a misunderstanding—he knowingly acted against what I wanted, all while letting me believe we were trying together.

I’m someone who always trusted my husband’s honesty, so hearing him admit he secretly tried to prevent pregnancy while I thought we were trying together completely shattered something in me.

When he told me, something inside me cracked. I started crying right there at the table because I suddenly realized he hadn’t been honest during one of the most emotional periods of my life. Back then I thought we were aligned, working toward something I deeply wanted. Instead, he was quietly preventing it without ever having an open conversation. I asked why he didn’t just talk to me, and he brushed it off—saying I was overreacting and that it “wasn’t a big deal” because our lives are better now. But to me, it feels like manipulation wrapped in a confession he thought would land as a funny relief story.

"Why not just talk to me then instead of manipulating me?"

He keeps insisting I’m blowing things out of proportion, that he only admitted this because he felt comfortable after hearing me say I was glad we didn’t have kids. But the honesty I believed our relationship was built on suddenly feels less solid. I trusted him completely, and now I’m wondering if that trust was misplaced. I’m torn between feeling hurt, betrayed, confused, and simultaneously guilty for having such a big emotional reaction.

"I feel like I just learned he’s never been 100% honest with me like I thought."

Now I’m sitting in the car after our date, replaying the whole thing and wondering if I’m justified in feeling this shaken. He acted like nothing major happened. But to me, it feels like discovering a secret rewrite of a chapter of our relationship—one that meant a lot to me at the time.

🏠 The Aftermath

Right now, my husband is treating the confession like it was harmless, something casual he could finally admit because we’re past that phase of life. Meanwhile, I’m trying to process the emotional impact of learning that my memories of “trying for a baby together” were not what I believed they were.

Nothing explosive happened afterward—we drove home, but I’ve been sitting outside replaying everything. It feels like a fracture of trust, even if unintentionally created. The disconnect between his perspective and mine has left me feeling alone with the hurt.

There’s no ongoing fight, no shouting—just me feeling blindsided and him insisting it “doesn’t matter” because the outcome worked out.

"It feels like I just learned a different version of my own past."

Whether or not the issue becomes bigger depends on what conversations happen next—but for now, I’m caught between logic and emotion, trying to reconcile the two.

💭 Emotional Reflection

This isn’t just about the act itself—it’s about communication, trust, and the meaning behind shared decisions. Wanting a baby is one of the most emotionally vulnerable desires a person can express, and feeling like your partner quietly acted against that can understandably create a deep sense of betrayal.

From his perspective, he may have been scared, unprepared, or unsure how to say no at that age. But from yours, it feels like he rewrote history without telling you. Both sides can be true at the same time, and that’s why the hurt feels so complicated.

It’s not about wanting a baby now—it’s about learning that your understanding of a major moment in your relationship wasn’t mutual, and about dealing with the grief of that mismatch.

Here’s how the community might see it:

“You’re not overreacting—he hid something huge during a vulnerable time and treated it like a joke years later.”

“He should have communicated back then. It wasn’t harmless; it was avoidance that turned into dishonesty.”

“This is fixable, but only if he understands why it hurt you instead of dismissing your reaction.”

Most people understand why the confession hit so hard while also recognizing the need for a calm, honest conversation to rebuild mutual understanding.

🌱 Final Thoughts

Sometimes hurt comes not from what happened, but from when and how we learn the truth. Your reaction isn’t dramatic—it’s human. What you believed was teamwork was actually a silent misalignment, and anyone would feel shaken by that.

The next steps aren’t about rehashing the past—they’re about rebuilding trust, clarifying expectations, and making sure future decisions are made together, not in secret.

What do you think?
Would this confession shake you too, or would you brush it off the way he did? Share your thoughts below 👇