I thought I had it all: three beautiful kids, a CEO husband who took care of those beautiful kids when I traveled to East Africa to run a nonprofit, a big house in an affluent suburb in Silicon Valley, a vacation house at the lake.
My relationship with my husband began to fall apart three years ago. I was devastated. I was graying, had a sagging body, and had been a complete stranger to the traditional job market for more than two decades.
I was also coping with chronic depression and anxiety, and the thought of online dating terrified me. Can you even remember what life was like before the internet? Picking up the pieces and moving on seemed like an impossible task, but curling up in the fetal position and staying there was just not an option.
He cooked, did laundry and mostly shared the kid-rearing responsibilities. But, like an old-fashioned wife, I left all of the financial matters to him.
Ridiculous, I know. Not long after my husband left, I realized I needed to sit down and create a budget for myself. I googled the name on the statement and discovered it was related to something called seekingarrangement. I typed the address into my browser and what popped up on my screen stopped me dead in my tracks. Was my husband giving money β our money β to these women in exchange for sex? The possibility alone turned my stomach. I closed my laptop and, still in my PJs, hightailed it to Target to get file folders, highlighters, printer paper, paper clips and any other office supplies I thought I might need.
