My husband is a psychology professor at a local university and can be quite forgetful at times. One morning, he accidentally left his lunch at home again, so I decided to be nice and hand-deliver it to his class since I was free that day.
When I arrived at the university and found the right auditorium, his lecture was still going, so I thought it would be fun to listen to a part of it. I sneaked in and sat at the very back. He was talking about some sort of psychological experiment, showing slides of various studies.
Then he said, “To prove the point, I recreated the experiment on my wife…”
My blood froze when I saw my own face show up on the slide with some characteristics written out underneath the photo.
“Our subject, Janet, has an average IQ and the social awareness of a teenage girl. So testing this theory on her was not a hard task. Take a second to look at this video of her, and then we will discuss it.”
A video began to play on the screen. It showed me in various situations around our home, oblivious to the fact that I was being filmed. In one clip, I was struggling to solve a simple puzzle while my husband narrated, belittling my intelligence. In another, I was caught in an awkward social interaction, his voice again pointing out my supposed lack of social skills.
I felt the world closing in on me as I watched, my hands gripping the chair to steady myself. The students around me were snickering, clearly amused by my husband’s cruel commentary.
My face flushed with anger and humiliation. How could the man I loved and trusted do this to me? I had supported him through his career, only to be mocked and ridiculed in front of his students. I wanted to storm out, but my legs felt like lead.
As the video ended, my husband continued his lecture as if nothing was wrong. “So, as you can see, the results were quite predictable given her psychological profile.”
The room erupted in laughter, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up, the sudden movement drawing everyone’s attention. My husband’s face went pale when he saw me.
“Janet, what are you doing here?” he stammered, clearly caught off guard.
Without a word, I turned and left the auditorium, my heart pounding in my chest. I felt betrayed and humiliated. How could he use me, his wife, as a subject for ridicule?
I went straight home, tears streaming down my face. When my husband finally returned home that evening, he tried to explain, but I was too hurt to listen.
“Janet, it was just an experiment. You know how important my work is,” he pleaded.
“Important enough to humiliate your wife in front of your students?” I shot back. “You used me, made a fool out of me. How could you?”
He tried to apologize, but the damage was done. That night, I packed a bag and left. I needed time to think, to process what had happened.
I spent the next few days at my sister’s place, trying to come to terms with the betrayal. My husband sent numerous messages and called repeatedly, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond.
Eventually, I knew I had to face him. I went back home, but things were different. The trust was broken, and I didn’t know if it could be repaired. We sat down and talked, but it was clear that our marriage had changed.
In the end, I decided that I couldn’t stay with someone who had so little respect for me. We filed for divorce, and I moved on with my life, determined to find happiness and respect in a way my husband had failed to provide.
What he did taught me a painful lesson about trust and betrayal, but it also made me stronger. I knew I deserved better, and I wasn’t going to settle for anything less.