It started as “jokes.”
Smirks about hot flashes. Comments about “menopause brain” when I forgot something. He laughed like that made it harmless. It didn’t.
The jokes followed me everywhere—family dinners, friends, public gatherings. I smiled while shrinking inside, escaping to bathrooms just to breathe and wonder how much longer I could take it.
Then came the night that changed everything.
Rick invited his boss, David, to dinner—the one that was supposed to secure his promotion. He warned me to behave, look nice, and not get emotional. I cooked, dressed up, and stayed quiet while Rick talked over me and corrected me.
When I adjusted the thermostat, Rick laughed and told David I was “going through THE CHANGE.”
I wanted to disappear.
David didn’t laugh. He noticed everything.
Later that night, Rick celebrated. I went to bed feeling invisible.
The next morning, David called me privately. He apologized for what he’d seen and said it was unacceptable. He also suspected Rick wasn’t being honest at work. I told him I was done being the punchline.
I started paying attention—late-night calls, strange meetings, lies about promotions. I followed Rick one day and saw him exchanging documents with another woman. It wasn’t an affair. It was something worse.
I brought everything to David. Rick had been padding hours, faking meetings, covering mistakes. Smoke and mirrors.
When Rick sensed I’d changed, he tried kindness