We met when I was in my 40s and even then I already had some level of erectile dysfunction, but you were aware of that early on in our relationship and while the Viagra remained effective we blithely carried on making future plans, ignoring the ticking time-bomb that eventually destroyed us.

We married, moved overseas and started a new, exciting life together. We were happy and I loved you; I think you truly loved me too. But our luck ran out and I accept that our marriage had to end: the Viagra became useless and our sex life stopped dead. But I can never reconcile myself to the way you reacted when I turned to you for support once I realised my impotence was total and irreversible.

You told me that the cause of my erectile dysfunction was unimportant; then you said it was psychological; and, most hurtfully, that even talking about it was confirmation that I was mentally ill.

In desperation, I sought out a psychologist specialising in sexual dysfunction. These fortnightly sessions became my lifeline but, cruelly, you tried to poison this relationship by claiming that her practice was unethical. On the brink of losing my marriage, my home and my sexual identity, I struggled to mask my despair, afraid of confirming your diagnosis of mental illness. You responded by quite brazenly seeking out sexual encounters with other men.

I often question why you reacted the way you did and I keep coming back to one thing: your huge sense of entitlement. You once said you believed you were entitled to the best of everything: the best food; the best holidays; the best sex; the best clothes. Why? What did you do to deserve being born into immense wealth? You, of all people, having spent your formative years in India surrounded by abject poverty, surely know better than most that life is a lottery and none of us are immune to the world’s sometimes cruel vicissitudes. In your view, I became an encumbrance. I had no place in the privileged, self-centred narrative of how your life should be. Your callousness left me poleaxed.

Sometimes I wonder how you, as a GP, react when one of your patients comes to you with erectile dysfunction concerns. I imagine you would be compassionate. Yet I, despite being your husband, apparently didn’t warrant this level of consideration. You have since alluded to your sense of shame and guilt regarding your behaviour during our marriage and have apologised, sincerely, I think.

I do hope you have taken time to reflect on your actions and have made the appropriate changes in your life, personally and professionally. That for me, at least, would be some consolation as I continue to flounder in the wake of the psychological damage you have inflicted.

Anonymous