Before Elon Musk became a household name—launching rockets, revolutionizing cars, and single-handedly turning tech CEOs into celebrities—he was someone else entirely: a determined college kid in Canada awkwardly holding melting ice cream cones, relentlessly courting his future first wife, Justine Musk. In her unforgettable 2010 Marie Claire essay, Justine pulls back the curtain on life with the billionaire visionary long before the world started hanging on his every tweet.

Their story took a sharp turn in late spring 2008, when Elon, entrepreneur and father of Justine’s five young sons, abruptly filed for divorce. Just six weeks later, he texted that he was already engaged—to Talulah Riley, a stunning British actress in her early 20s best known for her role in 2005’s “Pride and Prejudice.” Justine’s reaction was refreshingly honest: “Two of the things that struck me were: a) “Pride and Prejudice” is a really good movie, and b) My life with this man had devolved to a cliché.” She adds dryly, “At least she wasn’t blonde. I found that refreshing.”

When Justine first met Elon at Queen’s University in Ontario, she wasn’t exactly swept off her feet. She was an aspiring writer from a small Canadian town, fresh from a dramatic romance with a rebellious older guy who’d park his motorcycle beneath her dorm window. Elon wasn’t like that—he was a clean-cut, upper-class kid with a South African accent who insisted they’d met at a party she knew she’d never attended. When he invited her out for ice cream, she agreed—but promptly blew him off. Years later, he’d confess he’d noticed her across a crowded common room and decided he needed to meet her.

But Elon, even back then, wasn’t known for accepting defeat. A few hours later, Justine heard a polite cough behind her in the overheated student lounge. Elon stood awkwardly, two chocolate-chip cones dripping down his wrists. As Justine later wrote, “He’s not a man who takes no for an answer.”

Over the years, Elon kept pursuing her, even after transferring to Wharton. Unlike previous boyfriends who dismissed her ambition as threatening or “competitive,” Elon admired it. Justine once pointed at bookstore shelves, dreaming aloud of having her own books there. Elon, unlike anyone before, took her seriously: “You have a fire in your soul,” he said.

Things escalated when Musk’s first big tech venture, Zip2, took off. He was suddenly wealthy—flying Justine out to Silicon Valley for weekend visits, casually buying her endless books. Their relationship deepened quickly. But alongside romance came subtle red flags. During their wedding reception in January 2000, Elon matter-of-factly announced, “I am the alpha in this relationship.” Justine brushed it off, trusting their bond.

But wealth and success amplified those early warnings. Musk’s net worth soared beyond $100 million when eBay bought PayPal in 2002, thrusting the young couple into an extravagant lifestyle filled with private jets, exclusive parties, and Hollywood glamour. Yet behind closed doors, cracks widened. Elon’s drive for dominance seeped into their marriage. He frequently criticized Justine, bluntly telling her, “If you were my employee, I would fire you.”

In a deeply personal reflection, Justine admits how foreign her life had become. “I barely recognized myself,” she writes. “I had turned into a trophy wife—and I sucked at it. I wasn’t detail-oriented enough to maintain a perfect house or be a perfect hostess. I could no longer hide my boredom when the men talked and the women smiled and listened.” Elon pushed her toward Hollywood perfection, urging her to go blonder, platinum even—something she stubbornly refused.

The most devastating chapter of their story unfolded with the tragic loss of their first-born son, Nevada Alexander, at just 10 weeks old to sudden infant death syndrome. Rather than grieving together, they pulled further apart. Elon saw Justine’s grief as “emotionally manipulative,” pushing her to bury her pain and swiftly have more children. IVF treatments followed quickly, producing twins and triplets. But something vital was already irreparably broken.

By 2008, their marriage quietly imploded. Justine’s wake-up call came in the form of a serious car accident—a moment that crystallized just how much had unraveled. Her first instinct wasn’t gratitude for survival; instead, chillingly, she thought, “My husband is going to kill me.“

Today, Justine’s brutally honest reflection continues to resonate as Elon’s star rises ever higher, reminding readers of the complex human story behind the headlines.