The man I married when I was 24 and divorced at 30, a high-powered celebrity whom I’ll call Robert, was fired recently for inappropriate sexual behavior.
My first reaction was a pulse of schadenfreude: he was due for this. I’d been waiting for the shoe to drop since the onset of the #Metoo movement. He’d been sexually aggressive since his teens, and when he’d been drinking, he was known to make advances that weren’t always wanted. When a friend told me he’d stuck his tongue in her mouth when hugging her goodby… I’m ashamed to admit this, but I said, with a shrug, “That’s just Robert.”