Sometime after that awful evening, Maanav was away in Germany on a business trip. I was at home with the new baby when the phone rang. It was the fraud team of our bank asking to speak to Mr Maanav Mehra about his recent credit card transactions. I told them I was his wife and that they could speak to me as he was abroad. It was in relation to suspicious activity on his account, they said.
I texted Maanav to call them and didnāt think much of it beyond that. A couple of days later, when Maanav returned, I asked him about it.
He told me the truth.
He told me he had paid for sex.
He hadnāt done anything wrong as heād only done exactly what Iād said he could do.
Yes, Iād said this.
Confused?
Rewind to all my health problems, all the gynaecological surgery and postpartum, it was nearly impossible for me to be intimate with my husband. Getting pregnant with Veer was almost a miracle and involved a pain-numbing bottle of wine.
I understood Maanavās sex drive, and I felt sorry for him. I told him that if he had to go somewhere and pay for it occasionally, I would understand. He had to practise safe sex; this was important.
So, heād only done what I had said I was alright with. It was up to me to deal with it.
If it wasnāt a big deal, then why am I telling you about it? Well, one, it’s important to note for later on in the story, and two, this might be something some of you can relate to.
I have realised, after hearing countless couplesā stories, as well as studying Swami jiās wisdom on this topic, that having sex (paid or unpaid) or having an affair outside of a marriage/relationship is far more common than most of us want to admit.
The number one reason? Because a person can ā simply because the opportunity arises.
Men are statistically more likely to do it than women, especially pay for it, but that doesnāt mean by a long shot that women donāt.
Itās our most basic instinct to reproduce, to be attracted to each other and connect. Almost everything we do is driven by this. Looking good, healthy and successful are important to scoring a mate. So, everything from getting washed and dressed, feeding ourselves, earning money and showing ourselves off on social media is actually founded in the survival of our species. There is more to you beingālikedā than meets the eye.
I was very close to having an affair during my marriage, and it will be a surprise for those who knew me back then that it was not the man I was falsely accused of having an affair with.
When Maanav and I separated, a rumour went around that I’d been having an affair with a young man who was in our Jain community youth group. Letās call him Abhay. Abhay was successful, athletic, tall, dark and handsome. And he was an acquaintance of my husband. They played football together every week.
I joined the youth group when Veer was a couple of months old. We were doing dance rehearsals for a fellow memberās wedding celebration, and we were planning a ball for the upcoming New Year’s Eve celebration. As we had weekly meetings for the same, Abhay and I would see each other regularly. We also saw each other socially with Maanav and his other friends. I liked him so much as a person that I was hoping he would marry Maanavās sister. I’d often tease him about asking her out.
Abhay and I became friends. We talked via text during the week. I admit I enjoyed the attention, but that was it. He was a friend when I was feeling lonely and vulnerable. I was on Prozac, Iād just had my second baby, and my husband and I were either arguing or he was distant, spending long hours at the factory he co-owned with my father (whom I hated at the time, or travelling for business. Then I found out about the brothel transactions.
I tried to ignore everything. It was all my own doing, I told myself. I tried to get on with life, take my antidepressants and act like everything was okay.
At that time, I got back in regular contact with my closest friend, who Iād known since pre-school, Sharmila, or Milli, as I fondly call her. Milli was twenty-one, like me at the time, but she was a student and living near her university. Abhay and Milli became my lifelines, keeping me sane during those months.
Every Friday night, after the kids went to bed, Iād go out dancing with Milli and our group of girlfriends. I didn’t know until much later that my in-laws disapproved of it. I didnāt see it then. They never said I couldnāt go. Maybe they saw I needed it for myself. Itās why I joined the youth group too. I needed time and space away from the house to do something I enjoyed, for myself.
With Milli, I was back in a familiar space – with my childhood friends and in my favourite place of emotional release, the dancefloor. I looked forward to it all week. I was careful not to drink much because of the Prozac, and usually, Maanav would drop me off and pick me up from whichever establishment we were at.
It was on one of these nights out that I met the Irishman. He was a personal trainer by day and a bouncer by night at the pub next door to the one Milli and I frequented. We got talking and exchanged phone numbers. There was some flirty texting. Then one evening we arranged to meet in a car park after dark. I’d bought new lingerie. My intention was clear going into it. I made up some excuse and went out. He sat in my car, and we talked for a bit. He smelled good. I could sense he wanted to kiss me, but I just couldnāt go through with it. The conversation ended awkwardly. He got out of the car irritated, and that was that. I felt awful.
It left me wondering: how come I would push my husband away, the man I once desired more than anything in the world, but I was willing to lie to him and my whole family and drive to a car park at night to potentially have an affair with a man I’d just met?
One evening, a few years ago, listening to my guru give a discourse on attraction in intimate relationships, while my face was feigning calm and composure, lightbulbs were exploding like fireworks in my mind. Whoa, Swami ji’s hit the nail on the head. The thing I’ve never said out loud.
The thing that I didnāt even know was a thing. It was a revelation – the scent.
There is something about a personās personal scent that attracts us to them in the first place. If it changes, it can be a turn-off for the partner. Pheromones and personal scent rule over everything else regarding sexual desire. We really are more animalistic than we realise.
I remember thinking the same about Maanav. I didnāt like his scent anymore when he was close to me. If he came on to me, I would push him away. Donāt get me wrong, his personal hygiene was unmatched, he always looked flawless (he’s a very handsome man, way above average looking), and he used expensive grooming products and cologne, but it may have been since he started working with my father at the factory, being in that environment all day, that there was this new smell about him that repelled me. Perhaps there was something about it that was similar to the way my father smelled; I donāt know.
Perhaps it was the pos tnatal depression or the chemicals I was taking that made my brain perceive his scent differently? Perhaps my internal biology had decided that this relationship and, therefore, his scent were no longer safe. I guess I will never know. I just remember I didn’t like it anymore.
If youāre in a marriage or a serious relationship and you experience anything like what Iāve written here, or similar, please go easy on yourselves and each other. It really is far more common than anyone is willing to admit. Our chemical makeup changes over time. What may have driven us crazy with attraction once upon a time can easily change. Itās basic biology.
Sexual attraction for various reasons is bound to decrease at some point in a relationship.
But, ifĀ the relationship is based on love, respect, care and friendship, it has every chance of survival.
If you have a strong foundation with your partner, and you or your partner are battling with your sexual desire toward others, go inward, reflect and communicate, communicate, communicate, with maturity and respect.
And if you have a sincere spiritual connection and can meditate or do spiritual practices together, there is nothing like it. You’ve then transformed your relationship into a divine one. Even your sexual intimacy can become divine.
I know relationships are very complicated, and I’ve simplified the issue I’m talking about here, but this is just one aspect I thought was worth sharing my experience of and what I learned along the way.
Maanav’s transactions were not the reason why my marriage ended. He was not at fault there.
And I didn’t have an affair with Abhay, although everyone thought I did. If I had wanted Abhay, I would have asked him to meet me in the car park that night, not the Irishman.
Why my marriage ended and why many do, is far more layered.
If youāre in a marriage or a relationship, I hope some of this is helpful.
And if youād like to read more, my Guru, Om Swami ji, has many helpful articles on relationships, marriage and sex.
Here are some that you might find useful or interesting:
Why do people cheat in relationships?
Four truths of marriage and intimate relationships.
Sex and Spirituality – four perspectives on sexuality