I married a pot-bellied, balding man for money – the moment I knew it was over

As I walked down the aisle, I knew in my heart that I was not marrying for love, but for money.

I cared about Andrew*, but it was his wealth I was passionate about, and the lifestyle it gave me, not him.

2

2

Seven years later, I am a forty-one year old divorcee, and have learned the hard way that a truly happy relationship can never be built on someone else’s bank balance.

To look The perfect couple on Netflix this month, and the toxicity that comes when money is the motivating factor in a marriage, I felt relief to no longer get caught up in such a dynamic.

I grew up as an only child of a single mother, and while we weren’t “poor,” Mom worked incredibly hard as a secretary so we could make ends meet. I guess that’s where my desire to be well off came from. Growing up without money, it’s easy to believe that it’s the key to a happier life.

In 2015, when I was thirty-two, I met Andrew*.

I worked as an EA at a bank and he was a client of my boss.

Ten years older than me, bald and with a bit of a paunch, I wasn’t physically attracted to him, but he was charming, funny and when I looked at his files I was amazed at how well off he was, even though he was only early forties.

He had taken over his family’s successful real estate development company and invested in a portfolio of rental apartments.

He came in for meetings – his Porsche parked outside, wearing a well-cut suit and a designer watch – and we flirted, until one day he asked me out.

On our second date he presented me with a Chloe handbag and on our anniversary month he arranged a surprise weekend away to New York.

Money was no object to him, and I was fascinated. I had never experienced that kind of lifestyle before, and even though he liked to talk about himself a lot, and our sex life wasn’t that satisfying, I told myself I didn’t care. He was rich, generous and wanted to be with him. me.

Within six months I had moved into his luxury apartment, and during a holiday in Dubai for our one-year anniversary, he proposed with a huge diamond ring.

He paid for our wedding in the summer of 2017 and whatever I wanted – from the celebrity florist to the fireworks at the 5* venue, to my dress costing thousands of pounds – I had it. I was like a kid in a candy store, with his credit card.

I feel ashamed now that I exchanged vows with Andrew, knowing that I wasn’t in love with him, but I was blinded by the excitement of being rich, and greedy for the life he could give me.

Things went well for the first few years.

Within a year of our marriage, I left my job. I hated my job and Andrew insisted he made more than enough to support us.

I guess I was a “trad woman” long before it was a TikTok trend.

And I threw myself into overseeing the renovation of a second home we – Andrew – had bought in the country, in addition to going to the gym, shopping and preparing meals for him. Gifts like expensive jewelry, ski vacations, and designer clothes became my norm.

Friends joked that I had become one of ITV’s rich housewives, but I told myself they were just jealous because they were married to guys with regular jobs and modest bank balances. Sure, they were madly in love, but I had a lifestyle to die for.

There were days when I felt aimless, bored, and a little ashamed of being a “kept woman” in my 30s, but I pushed those feelings aside.

It was the pandemic that exposed the shaky foundations my marriage was built on.

Both stayed home all day, with no luxury vacations, shopping trips or spa breaks to enjoy. We only had each other’s company, and I began to realize that without all the distraction and excitement of his wealth, Andrew was often bored. and irritated me.

In addition, with his business interests under pressure due to the effects of the lockdown, he started asking questions for the first time about the items on the credit card bill or the cost of items I had delivered to my home.

I felt humiliated when he told me that my spending had gotten out of hand and that I should rein it in and pass on major purchases to him. During an argument he said it was his money and that I should be more grateful to him than I am.

It touched me that he didn’t see me as his equal, because I didn’t contribute anything. He had the money, so he had the power in our relationship, and that would never change.

Once those cracks appeared, I couldn’t ignore them or stick his money over them.

Even when life started to get back to normal, and he took us to Portugal and insisted that everything was now financially fine, I just had to carry on as normal, the voice in my head growing louder that I had made a mistake.

At the end of 2021, I told Andrew that I had fallen for his wealth, and I had made him believe that I loved him.

I was married for the wrong reasons, I didn’t love this man and it was never going to be a marriage between equals.

Even if I went back to work, there was always going to be a huge imbalance financially and having experienced this being used against me emotionally during the pandemic, I knew it would happen again.

At the end of 2021, I told Andrew I was leaving him. I admitted that I had fallen for his wealth, and the blame was mine for making him believe I loved him.

He was shocked, devastated, angry and begged me to reconsider, but I told him it was the best for both of us.

We divorced in 2022 and all I asked for in the divorce settlement was a house in the country so I had a place to live, although I would have been entitled to more. I wanted to start over, away from his money.

I went back to work as an EA and it felt good to be financially independent again, and today I live a very normal life, without all the expensive trappings I had during my marriage. Do I miss them? Sometimes. But am I happier? Certainly.

I would love to meet someone new, but it’s not easy dating as a divorcee, and I have a hard time explaining to guys that I married for money and not for love, and that’s why it all fell apart.

Maybe one day I’ll meet someone and when I do, I’ll have learned to be guided by my heart, not his bank balance.