Getty Images/iStockphoto
We invited readers to anonymously share how they've been affected by infidelity. Hundreds replied, and some agreed to discuss their experiences, without revealing identifying details. This is one:
It's hard to look back. But I do. I shake my head. Together 20 years; married for 15. And I think, "It was probably going on then, too, right at the start," I was naive, maybe. I loved him. And our sex life was great. Why would I think he was being unfaithful? We were doing it every way, all the time, every day. When we married, it was because he wanted kids. And to do that, I felt we should be married.
The first one I heard about came in a phone call from one of his workmates. We were well liked in the community. So this man phoned me at home. I was standing in the kitchen: the baby on my hip; the toddler at my feet. We had been married, oh, maybe three years? I was making lunch. And this man told me, "A number of us at work feel that you should know."
My husband was having an affair with someone in the office. I thought my legs were going to give out on me. I didn't know what to do. My mat leave was ending, and I was about to go back to work. I was recovering from a C-section birth. My mom had been diagnosed with cancer. I was helping her navigate the medical system. And I was caring for my dad's emotional well-being. I was overwhelmed. Where do I fit this in? That night, when my husband came home, I said nothing initially.
I put the kids down for the night, and then I said, "We need to talk." I told him I knew.
"Oh, what's the big deal?" he said. He downplayed it. No apologies. Nothing. "You're so naive. If I took 10 men and lined them up, nine of them would be having an affair on their wives."
He made me feel that this was commonplace in marriage. I stayed. I would be in bed and think, "What is my reaction? I need to leave this man. But wait – I can't leave. I have no more room on my to-do list." We still had a sex life, but for me, it became obligatory. I shut down emotionally. Then you see the other woman. And that hurts. She was younger, petite, single. How do you compete with that?
I go back through the years. I jump ahead in the years. It's all a jumble. I have thought about why I tolerated it. There were many, many indiscretions. They never lasted long. I know of seven for sure. I know their names. A lot of people in our community knew he was fooling around on me, and I think they almost feared me. I was the girl who stayed. And maybe it's because I am a compassionate person, a mothering type. Maybe because I was insecure. Maybe because I grew up with a patriarchal model. For about five years before the end, I was sleeping in the guest room. And we were almost like brother and sister or something. We managed the house; the kids – like a corporate team.
And then one day, I'll never forget it, he sat on the stairs, tying up his shoes, before he went to work.
"I need to tell you something,' he said. "I'm having an affair."
I said, "Oh, which one? 2012? 2013?"
"It's been going on for a few years," he said. "And you know her."
He told me who it was. I was blindsided. This was a woman I knew before I knew him.
He scrunched up his face and looked at me as if to say, "Why are you so shocked?"
This is someone whose children were at school with mine. Her son ate dinner with us on hockey nights. It was all six degrees of separation. And worse, she was younger, beautiful and busty.
I reached out to her to talk to her. I was respectful. Polite. He had told her I was okay with it; that I knew. I told her that he had had other affairs. And she would downplay it. She said she had told him to stop coming by. She said she had asked him to give back the house key she had given him. He had a key!
At one point, I looked at his phone. That was so damaging. He was telling her things he had never said to me. This was a long-term, exclusive relationship. I looked at those phone messages like someone who can't stop looking at a car crash. It didn't matter if 15 people were telling me, "Get out." I needed to figure out why he was doing it.
Then, he told me the affair was over. But I suspected that they were both lying. I arranged for us to go away with the kids for a few days. It was March break. I wanted us to do something as a family. But he said he couldn't – something about work obligations. The night before I was going away with the kids, I was out getting things, and I thought, "I have to know." So I drove to her place. It's not like me. I never wanted to be that Jerry Springer kind of character. But I did.
I sat there on the street. And there was his car in her driveway. I called him. "I'm on the street outside," I said. "Come and talk to me." He came out; calmly walked down the driveway.
I said, "This is it. This is not just about you and me any more. You're choosing her over our kids." I was trying to tell him that he just had to let me go. He needed to be with her. He must love her or something.
He leaned down to me. He had been drinking a bit. And he said, "What part of 'I'm leaving you' don't you understand?"
And I looked at him and thought, "Okay. This is a step. This is good." "You have 72 hours," I said. I was shaking but I also felt good. "Pack your things," I told him. "I'm going away. Get what you need. We'll talk later. "
I contacted the woman again, and this time I wasn't so polite. I told her that I thought she could have at least had the courage to face me and tell me the truth. She'd been hiding in her darkened house when I was outside in my car!
Over that weekend I was away, my husband starting texting me and asking about the kids, all friendly, as if nothing had happened. "What are you up to? Send me pictures!"
And when I came back, he wasn't gone. He just thought I would think better of it, and carry on.
I knew then that I would have to do it myself. The night I told him, I asked one of my friends to be there with me. It wasn't because I was afraid of any violence. I knew he wasn't going to be mad because he was losing me. He was going to be mad because he was losing his ticket to continue this lifestyle. The all-inclusive resort life he had with me was being dismantled.
Now, we've been legally separated for almost a year. And sometimes I have this weird dream. I want to sit in a room with his women. There's probably many more than I know about. I want to have a truthful dialogue with them – not for them to tell me what they think I want to hear. But what made them think it was okay to do it? Was it purely physical? Did they think they loved him?
I get that infidelity happens. It's been happening for centuries – both men and women. And I think I could have gotten over the physical part. What hurt me most – to my core – was that he allowed me to stay in the marriage with the idea that we had something; that our family mattered. But he wasn't on the same page as me. He used me. And looking back at all those women, I think each one is as much a victim as I am.
His latest relationship has now ended. He preyed upon women who maybe were kind, beautiful but very insecure. He could probably spot them a mile away.
Now, at least I'm free. I am damaged. I am cynical. I know that. But I can do this. I can manage on my own, and with my kids. I always have, in a way.
- As told to Sarah Hampson