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At eight months pregnant, I discovered my husband had completely drained my $48,000 emergency pregnancy fund. I checked his phone’s GPS and found out he was in Hawaii, chilling on a beach resort with his female co-workers. I booked a flight, flew straight there, and confronted him in front of them all. He just smirked, sipping a cocktail and saying: “A man has physiological needs; a pregnant wife at home is completely helpless to stop me.” He returned home days later sunburnt and laughing, but the locks were changed, and signed divorce papers were taped to the door of a house that now legally belonged to a complete stranger.

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on the microphone. “I’ll go in and tell her to pack her things. If she puts up a fight, I’ll just call her doctor and tell them she’s having a breakdown. They’ll take her for observation, and we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

I felt a chill go through me. He wasn’t just planning to leave me; he was planning to institutionalize me to clear the path continue reading …

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