I signed a prenup that didn’t really protect me. I ended up selling my engagement ring to restart my life.

Courtesy of Isobella Jade When I was 27, I signed a prenup that I thought would protect me if my marriage ended.   After moving to Texas and away from my loved ones, my ex filed for divorce.   I had to sell my engagement ring and restart my life at almost 40.

  I sat crossed-legged at a desk in midtown Manhattan, with the 24-page prenuptial agreement sitting in front of me. “Are you sure?,” my lawyer asked, her wrinkly hand holding the pen I would use to sign it. She was asking me if I wanted anything else.

  I was 27, a part-time model, a budding author, and a podcaster — my needs were basic. I wanted my rent paid for a year if things went sour. It sounded secure enough, and I brushed aside that there would be no split of assets, no 401(k) split, no property split, but there was always that lump sum if it came down to it, or a percent of my husband’s income, whichever was lower, my lawyer explained.

  I signed it.  The prenup didn’t prepare me for anythingThere was no big wedding, no fuss. I wore a white, knee-length lace dress and veil.

There weren’t many gifts, and I figured this was because any gift my friends could give would be unneeded. The kitchen was stocked, and no one cooked in New York City. We ordered in, we dined out, we went on vacation, we had an apartment, we had his furniture, what more did we need?I looked at my wedding-band diamonds interlocking when I said “I do,” and I quickly forgot the details of the prenup.

I slipped right into married life. I see everything differently now. The prenup didn’t promise a safety net at all, or that I would be truly loved and adored.

It didn’t mean our marriage was solid and special. It meant the opposite.  The prenup was always there as a threat, and I see now how the words were right there on the page, constantly reminding me that I was less and that nothing was given genuinely.

I would purchase groceries delivered to our door, drop off dry cleaning, work on my manuscript, and plan dinner if he was home for it. I would birth two beautiful babies, attend a plethora of mommy-and-me classes, and push the double stroller a million miles across the city, but I didn’t protect myself for the day my husband said it was over.  I was far away from my loved onesWe had moved to Texas, and we had his support system, but we were further away from mine.

He wanted a divorced but told me to file for it because he was feeling “guilty. ” I was willing to go to counseling, but that wasn’t on his agenda. That’s when I realized I had no foundation and very little in my bank account.

Stay-at-home parenthood had brought me immense joy I will never regret, but I should have known better than to count on someone else for stability.  If I could go back, I would have at least paid the electric bill, built up my credit, and had a conversation before having  children about building my own savings account.   It was a mistake not to protect myself financially during my marriage.

I sold my engagement ring for a cushion while restarting life a few years shy of 40. I focused on my children while also revamping my résumé and getting a job as a news reporter and then a communications manager. I got my own apartment, bought my own car, and pivoted into a new reality that I’ve built myself.

 Two years later, I’m now happily the head of my household and rich with love. I know I will never be able to give my kids the luxurious toys and experiences they were born into. I carry groceries up two flights of stairs and there are many moments that I want to burst into tears for being so foolish, but my confidence and trust in others grow a little more every day, and my heart holds everything I can give.

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