After Our Divorce, My Ex-Husband Tore Off the Wallpaper Claiming ‘He Paid for It’ — But Karma Had Other Plans for Him

My ex-husband once brushed off his cheating by calling it “harmless fun.” But after our divorce, when he tore the wallpaper off my walls claiming he paid for it, karma stepped in—and she had a wicked sense of humor.

Do you believe in karma? I used to think it was just a comforting phrase people say after getting hurt—like, “Don’t worry, karma will get them.” Yeah, right. But trust me, karma is real. And in my story? She’s downright savage.

Here’s the backstory: Dan and I were married for eight years. We had two kids, a house I inherited from my grandmother, and what I thought was a solid life together. Turns out, I was the only one who believed in “us.” The night I discovered his cheating is burned into my memory.

Our daughter Emma was sick, and while looking for her medicine in Dan’s drawer, I found his phone instead. A notification popped up: a heart emoji and “I love you!” Curiosity got the best of me, and I found dozens of intimate texts between Dan and a woman named Jessica.

I confronted him, heartbroken and shaking: “Eight years, Dan! How could you?” He didn’t even seem sorry. He shrugged it off like it was nothing, calling it “harmless fun” with his secretary. I forgave him once, hoping it was a mistake. But the second time, when I found lipstick stains on his collar—not even a color I wore—I was done.

I told him to pack his bags, filed for divorce immediately, and didn’t look back.

The house wasn’t up for debate—it belonged to me, passed down from my grandmother. Dan screamed about how he’d lived there eight years and put money into it, but legally, it was mine. We split everything else 50/50, but then the worst part: Dan coldly gave me full custody, saying he didn’t want the responsibility.

I took the kids to my mom’s while Dan packed. The night before returning home, Emma asked me why Daddy wasn’t coming. How do you explain divorce to a six-year-old? I told her grown-ups sometimes need space to figure things out.

When we came back, the house was a wreck. The beautiful floral wallpaper we’d picked was ripped off, walls jagged and bare. Dan was still tearing more down, insisting, “I bought this wallpaper. It’s mine.”

I was stunned. “You’re destroying your kids’ home,” I said. The kids were scared and confused. Jack cried, “Why is Dad doing this? I loved the flowers!” I promised them we’d pick new wallpaper, something even better.

Dan just shrugged, “I paid for it, so I have the right to do this.”

He even took kitchen utensils, the toaster, coffee maker—everything he’d bought with his own money—and even all the toilet paper from the bathrooms.

A month later, I joined a book club. Sharing the wallpaper story, we all laughed at how ridiculous he was. “Who does that?” my friend Cassie asked, wiping tears of laughter.

Then, six months later, Dan called to say he was getting married—to a “gorgeous bombshell.” I said congrats and hung up.

One day, downtown, I saw Dan holding hands with Cassie, my book club friend. She was engaged to him—but didn’t know he was my ex. When she found out about the wallpaper story, she was furious and left him on the spot.

Dan was left dumbfounded, and I just walked away with a quiet smile. Karma had served him well.

That night, tucking the kids into bed, Jack said, “Mom, remember when Dad took the wallpaper? I’m glad we picked new ones together. The dinosaurs in my room are way cooler than those old flowers.”

Emma nodded, “And my butterflies are the prettiest ever!”

Looking at our colorful walls filled with memories we made, I realized: sometimes you don’t need revenge—just let karma do its work, with a little poetic justice on the side.