#27 WHEN I F*CKED THE MARRIED PROFESSOR: HOW KARMA BIT ME IN THE ANKLE

The third person I’d slept with – not using my best judgement, perhaps – but the experience was eye-opening and formative

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I took classes in a few departments outside of the English department, which is where I met this professor. 

He taught me one of my classes and he had an office outside another class of mine and I’d go to this building across campus in hopes of bumping into him or having an excuse to talk to him. I was 21 at the time, only just able to drink, and would turn 22 after I graduated with my BA in May. 

This was April 2009. He formed this idea of me that I was this crazy, fun wild girl – not a stage 5 clinger with attachment issues and a full-on emotionally dependent boyfriend who I couldn’t shake. I was still dating HSS at the time and this professor called me into his office one day and said that he was moving in the summer and then he propositioned me. 

I remember being shocked and flattered and in my usual pretend-I’m-super-happy mode I told him that I was super-happy with my boyfriend and sorry, but no. But the seed had been planted. 

Prior to him propositioning me in his office that day where he’d dragged me out of another class to talk to me about some painting project I was working on for a class, it didn’t come out of the blue.

I’d added him (maybe cheekily) to Facebook in February.

In April, I told him, “You should get on Facebook chat more often. Hope you had a great day. See you next week.” 

He replied, “I agree. It’s the only time I can unabashedly flirt with you. If you wear those ‘coral pumps’ again I can’t guarantee gentlemanly behaviour.”

I used to make sure to dress up for class as much as possible, including going through my high-heel collection (impossibly high heels I couldn’t hope to walk in now and goodness knows how I walked miles around campus in them) of which one of my favourite pairs was in a coral colour. 

I told him he wasn’t there when I went by his office and I made it a habit of walking back and forth to the building more than necessary to see if he was around.

He replied, “The fact is you are fully aware of the effect you have on me and I’m pretty sure you get a kick out of it. Like I said, I try to ignore you in group situations but usually fail miserably. I am already thinking about what shoes you are going to wear tomorrow.”

I said I wasn’t being malicious like I’m catnip. And that everyone enjoys attention but I was being “my clumsy, dorky self.” I didn’t see myself as a femme fatale type – just kinda nerdy and totally insecure.

Thanks to HSS, I had a low opinion of myself – not because he didn’t compliment me or say he found me attractive – he did. He was forever telling me he thought I was beautiful but he’d berate my personality more, chipping away bit by bit. 

Was I parading myself on purpose to lure in married professor? I wasn’t sure. I knew he was married and had two daughters close to my age. But I found him attractive and alluring and the cat-and-mouse game stimulating.

In April, a group of us went on a night out, including HSS and he sent me this message…

“Every time I see you, I discover something else that I love about you. Each time we touched last night was like a shock of electricity for me. You are truly an amazing person and I hope dearly that I can spend more time with you. I don’t care how or where. I just hope to see you and be around you. You are so funny and charming and lovely. Thank you for coming out tonight. It was great and I hope you had a good time. See you tomorrow.”

We secretly touched on said night out under the table whilst HSS smoked cigars and drank scotch with them. An Ethan-type sitch?

But, I was feeling guilty and getting cold feet. I had never contemplated cheating before. With the whole DJ thing, I’d at least broken things off with HSS first – not that that absolved anything particularly. A wandering eye is a wandering eye.

I told married professor that the flirtation was dangerous and going down the wrong path. I loved my boyfriend (which I did). He loved his wife (which he did). It wasn’t right to hurt them and it was a passing flirtation that got out of hand. I even had to put his name under a pseudonym so I wasn't suspicious to HSS when he saw the texts.

When you’re resorting to fake contacts in your phone, your relationship is going nowhere good.