I recently went through the most heartbreaking custody hearing of my life, and I’m 35. I found out about my husband Daniel’s affair two years ago.
It was the age-old tale of my discovering lipstick marks on his shirt that he claimed were ketchup after he spent far too many late hours at “work.”
I was in denial at first, especially because divorcing him meant giving up financial stability and beginning from nothing.
However, after months of this, I eventually found the strength to leave with my children, Jack, who was only five years old at the time, and Emily, who was eight.
It seemed like drowning to start again in a smaller flat. Being a working, single mother is something no one can prepare you for.
I had to get ready for work, make lunches, and get the kids ready for school in the early hours of the morning.
