My Daughter Created Her Own Language and Secretly Told Me to Look at My Wife’s Purse – Soon, Our Family Collapsed

My name is David. My wife, Sara, and I have been married for over 10 years and have a daughter together named Clara. My daughter and I have always been close. I noticed early on in her childhood that she was a curious child, so I have always tried to include several educational yet fun activities in her life.

She really loves to know the small details of how things are made. There was once a time she was obsessed with watching videos of people making bread, so I booked us a class to learn how to make different kinds of bread.

Clara loved the science behind it more than the actual baking, but she still loves to bake to this day. I try to feed into her interests because I believe it is how children discover themselves. You never know which activity will ignite what might be a passion or a future career venture.

I believe Clara might have had her light bulb moment when I read “The Hobbit” by J.R.R. Tolkien two years ago. My daughter was so fascinated by how the author was such a linguist and his ability to create languages for the story.

The play on language and how sounds and words come together to make meaning has captured Clara’s imagination. She has been obsessed with linguistics ever since, and I have been happy to provide as many texts and information as I can.

I tried to start her off with beginner-friendly information, but she quickly got bored of it, so now I have found myself going down the rabbit hole of searching for high-level research and academic papers to give to her.

The more she has been reading, the more she wants to know, and for about a year, Clara started creating her own language, which she has named Nista. I am not sure of the spelling but I have sounded it out.

It's incredible how much thought and attention she has put into creating Nista. The language is not just playing around with English words and sounds; it actually is a language of its own. My daughter has created different conjugations, syntax, and grammar. For example, she has devised a bunch of different suffixes to indicate emotion that can be attached to any word.

Since I have been there from the early stages of its development, Clara and I have been speaking Nista together. I am not as fluent as she is, but she guides me through it. This has honestly been the highlight of my life, and I am very proud to be this girl's father.

My wife, Sara, barely paid attention to the language. She does not even know what the language is called and has chosen to just call it gibberish, which Clara has found very offensive because it disregards all the hard work she puts into developing the language.

But I have tried to be the middle man and explain to her that Mommy just does not understand these things while showing her the many other ways her mother is there for her. However, Clara still would like to share this excitement with both of us.

However, my wife was acting very weird. There were times when she refused to go on a ride with us, and I could see from afar that she was speaking to someone on the phone. I did not want to cause a fight, so I let it slide.

We finally sat down for lunch. Clara loves to get hot dogs and soda and then follow it up with cotton candy, but throughout our lunch, Sara was texting on her phone and paid no attention to us. I asked her if she was fine several times, and she insisted she was.

Clara even asked, “Mommy, can you text later and have lunch with us?” But Sara snapped at her and told her she was busy with something important. Everything was weird because while she was texting in front of us, she was also very secretive and always had her phone face down on the table.

I was really sad that Sara did not take the opportunity to spend a bit more quality time with Clara, but another opportunity to be with family came up. My brother invited us over for dinner, and Clara loves to visit him because she gets to play with her cousins.

Everything at dinner was going great. My sister-in-law and brother had prepared an amazing spread of food. The conversation flowed until Clara suddenly started speaking Nista. I could not put together what she was saying, but her eyes kept looking down at my wife’s purse.

She repeated herself until I understood that she was saying, "Dad, look at Mom's purse," I looked at her with confusion, and then she continued, "When you went to the bathroom, Uncle secretly put there a note."

My wife’s bag was hanging on her chair, so I “accidentally” dropped my fork so I could take the note discretely. No one noticed anything since Sara and my brother were giving each other all the attention.

After I got the note, I excused myself again, telling everyone I was getting another drink. I really did not know what to expect from the note, but my heart was beating out of my chest and my gut was telling me something was not right.

I opened the note, with my shaking hands, and there was an address to a hotel downtown, followed by “Be there by 12:00. I can’t wait to see you again.” My heart dropped, but I did not want to believe what my brain was telling me.

I continued through the night as if nothing had happened. Then, the next day, I followed my wife to her destination. She lied to me, saying she was going to see a friend. I watched her get out of the car, hug my brother, and give him a long kiss on the lips.

I did not need any more information from there. It was very clear that Sara was having an affair with my brother. I have never been so hurt in my life. Out of everyone she could cheat on me with, I could not believe that she chose my brother, my own flesh and blood.

Everything from her secret phone calls and texts finally made sense. She was too preoccupied with flirting and scheduling meet-ups with my brother.

I confronted her the night she came back from the hotel. She cried, telling me it just happened and that she did not mean to hurt me, but she was in love with my brother. She said they tried to stop but they could not ignore their "undeniable connection."

None of this made me feel better. I was certain I did not want to be with her anymore, so I served her with the divorce papers. She has since moved back in with her parents and is working towards mending her relationship with Clara.

I want my daughter to have a relationship with her mother, so I will not stand in the way of that. I also want a healthy co-parenting relationship with Sara for the sake of our daughter, but it's not easy because the wound is still fresh.

Disclaimer: This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

It might have taken David a made-up language to discover his wife's affair, but for this woman, it was a measuring cup. Click here to read this nail-biting story.

This Is How A Measuring Cup Helped me Discover My Husband's Affair

The day unfolded under the guise of normalcy, a deceptive veil that shrouded the storm brewing beneath. Our home, nestled in the heart of England, had always been a sanctuary of love and trust. My husband, Andy, 48, and our best friend, Jean, 37 - who held the esteemed role of godmother to our four children - were pillars in this haven of ours.

Yet, as the sun set on an evening that had started with a dinner meant to celebrate her return, the veil was lifted most shockingly.

The night that changed everything started with Andy and me having my bestie over for dinner since her husband was always out on business trips, and I just didn't want her to be all by herself. She's also the godmother to our two children, so it felt nice having her around.

The dinner party for three was amazing. "Thank you so much for a wonderful meal and even greater company," Jean kissed my cheek and hugged me before walking out the door.

But then, my husband offered to walk her to her car because it was dark. To be honest, he had always been sort of protective of our mutual friend so I found it endearing and didn't see anything wrong with it.

As I started tidying up, all of a sudden I noticed Jean had left her measuring cup behind—the one I borrowed. I thought I'd just quickly return it, right? However, walking over to return a seemingly innocent item, I stumbled upon a sight that would sear itself into my memory forever!

OMG, as I got there, there they were, the overhead lights of Jean's car cast a spotlight on the betrayal: my husband, with our best friend enveloping him in her arms, their lips locked in a forbidden embrace in the front seat of her car!

I was so stunned by what I saw that I didn't know whether to chuck that measuring cup at them or just bail! The world stood still, the air thick with the scent of treachery.