(As told to Priya Chaphekar)
My life looked perfect but it wasn’t
Picture a married woman who has all the luxuries at her feet – a sprawling apartment that overlooks a serene lake, two maids and a well-trained chef at her service, a wardrobe full of designer labels and the freedom to take international trips with the girls. Her husband brings her pearls from Australia, gold from Dubai and cosmetics from France. Sounds like a perfect life, doesn’t it? Well, that woman was me and my life was far from perfect.
Married for a decade, my husband Jerome and I met through common friends. Although we were poles apart, we fell in love at first sight – he being the classic dark, tall and handsome type and me being the happy-go-lucky, wild, free-spirited woman that I was once upon a time. We were profoundly and irreversibly in love with each other. Our worlds and days began and ended in each other’s arms. Our friends envied us for not including them in our grand plans and our parents almost disowned us for not spending enough time with them.