This post deals with abuse and might be triggering for some readers.
In writing honestly about how I met my second husband, Johnny Depp’s opening monologue from The Libertine comes to mind:
"Allow me to be frank at the commencement. You will not like me. The gentlemen will be envious and the ladies will be repelled. You will not like me now, and you will like me a good deal less as we go on."
Maybe that’s my flair for the dramatics talking, but that’s sometimes how I feel when I’m about to tell someone the truth about how I met the love of my life — while I was still married to another man.
Watch: Our relationship deal breakers. Post continues below.
This is a topic that brings about a lot of polarising opinions. It’s divisive. And while some see this morally treacherous ground as a black-and-white issue, others have experienced a grey area.
So, I guess that’s my sort-of warning.
I don’t condone or encourage cheating. Sneaking behind your partner’s back in an illicit affair is wrong, and lives can be crushed by this selfish behavior. It’s an incredibly stupid and risky act, and the best thing to do if you want to end your relationship is just to end it — not to sabotage it with an affair.
Just because it worked out for me doesn’t mean it will work out for you.
To be blunt, I don’t deserve how well it worked out. But I met my second husband and fell in love with him while I was still married to my first husband. This is my story, flawed as it is. It’s the dirty little secret we typically leave out when people at a dinner party ask how we met.
And I know there are people out there who can relate.
A room with a messed-up view.
I got married when I was 19. I was a virgin, quite inexperienced with men and relationships, and I happened to marry into a very strict Catholic family. My ex-husband was raised as a traditional Catholic — this is the group of Catholics who view the teaching of the Second Vatican Council as heretical, so they believe there is, at present, no true pope.