Professional psychologists say that if you don't deal with your issues by the time you are 40, then they will rear up and deal, very emphatically, with you.
It took many hours of counselling, not to mention thousands of dollars, to understand the significance of this, but it cost me so much more than money.
Of all the men I'd dated, my husband had been the best of the bunch - a kind and generous man, but someone who could also be selfish and unfeeling.
We had agreed, early on in our relationship, that we wouldn't have children, and that suited him fine.
My husband worked hard at his job and, to alleviate its accompanying pressures, developed an obsession with horse racing, gambling and drinking.
He was out most nights, and many weekends.
And me? I was lonely. I had a husband and a home, yet I felt I was missing something. This made me sad and depressed. I ignored it until I no longer could. Then, I looked elsewhere.
I turned to social media as a form of escape.
While my husband spent most evenings catching up on the horse racing TV programmes he'd recorded over the weekend, I began perusing chatrooms for harmless flirtation, a little virtual attention.
I didn't want an affair, nothing grubby, nothing seedy, and certainly not cybersex. I still loved my husband, but I wanted adventure, excitement, a reminder I was still alive.