At 55, I received a ticket to Greece from a man I met online—but in the end, I wasn’t the one who made it there.
At 55, I boarded a plane to Greece, excited to finally meet the man I’d fallen for online. But when I reached his door, I was met not by him, but by someone else—someone who was not only using my name but also living out my story. All my life, I had constructed a protective…