We eloped in the golden light of a New Hampshire summer afternoon, and I could not have predicted how horrifically it would end less than two years later.

My then-husband’s predilection for infidelity, the overwhelming burden of domestic labor I undertook while completing medical school, the daily fear for my safety I felt living with him – all of which emerged only afterwe wed – compelled me to file for divorce.

I thought about the children I wanted to have and knew, after our final confrontation – one that left me fearing for my life – that I could not have children with him. I wanted my children’s father to model healthy emotional regulation, selflessness and fidelity, and that certainly wasn’t going to happen with my husband.

"I’m the one who demanded a divorce," I told my closest supporters, “but he was the one to walk out on the marriage.”

My lawyer initially encouraged me to file for a no-fault divorce on "irreconcilable differences" as the fastest way to escape him legally. He leaned back in his chair with a look of resignation. Most judges are pretty jaded over marital infidelity, he told me. But my then-husband was the most egregious case he'd seen in his years of practice.

I declined the no-fault divorce and filed on fault grounds of adultery. I was tired of letting him evade responsibility, and that first step toward freedom reclaimed months of my lost self-worth. 

Judges are jaded, I pondered afterward, meaning they must see this all too frequently. Meaning that the “sacred” institution of marriage is........

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