55
Group Therapy is a relationship-based advice column that allows readers to contribute their wisdom. Each week, we offer up a problem for you to weigh in on, then publish the most lively responses, with a final word on the matter delivered by our columnist, Claudia Dey.
A reader writes: I recently discovered that my husband of 28 years had an affair. It lasted 2½ years and he ended it before I found out. We were in therapy during the affair (the therapist knew about it) and will continue to go so that we can deal with the trust issues arising from this. I still love him and he wants to stay with me. However, I have been deeply hurt and I want the other woman to hurt too. She knew, going into the affair, what it would cost her if anyone found out — her religion requires that everyone would shun her — she would lose her kids, her family and her community. I can think of a number of ways to expose what she has done. Should I?
LET HER CONSCIENCE PUNISH HER
The affair involved two willing people, and you're living with one of them. Concentrate on making your peace with him.
You love your husband, but you have displaced your fury at him onto That Woman. If you wreak havoc on her life, your husband will see you as the bitter, vengeful woman you are.
If you let her be, and leave her punishment to God and her conscience, he will see you as the forgiving, loving wife you are.
The choice is yours.
— Charles Cohen, West Vancouver
DO IT FOR THE KIDS; THEN DO IT WITH YOUR HUSBAND
Infidelity has an incredibly powerful ability to disorient the brain. While there are endless reasons why you shouldn't seek revenge, let's just focus on the fact that her kids don't deserve it. The kids had absolutely nothing to do with this; for you to do something that you know would hurt them would be reprehensible.
The second part of my advice is about the harsh reality of long-term relationships; are you doing your part to keep the bedroom activities hot? It may sound petty, but since you're having trust issues you need to make sure that he not only loves you but enjoys having a good romp in the sack with you as well. Join a health club, get fit and start exploring some sexual taboos. The rest, then, is up to him.
— Peter Reinecke, Ottawa
TAKE THE HIGH ROAD
You need to focus right now on what you have lost — the trust in your marriage. You must not "out" this other woman. You are welcome to secretly hope that she suffers for what she put you through, but you are not welcome to condemn her children to a life without their mother. Could you look them in their faces and tell them that you chose this future for them? Could you watch them say goodbye to her and be satisfied that you'd gotten your revenge?
"Hell hath no fury," and you're in the pit of it now. The other woman knows it. She is terrified of you, and is fully aware of what you could do to her family. Take the high road. I assure you if you act on this temptation the guilt will far outlast any pleasure of revenge.
— Jenny Johnston, Halifax
THE FINAL WORD
Dear Woman Scorned,
You are hurt. Hurt makes us inarticulate beasts. It draws out our savagery. It plays on the ugliness and violence we are all capable of; the one that throws barbs, wishes accidents, stabs husbands and blinds mistresses.
If we are examining the difference between human beings and animals, surely the way we handle our hurt is an appropriate measurement. Are we vengeful and vitriolic, or are we diplomatic and forward-thinking? Let us attempt the latter.
Your husband ended the affair and returned, committed, to your marriage. Focus your will here. You have 28 years between you. Together, you are presented with a rare and difficult time; persevere and find new pockets of intimacy.
Whether this involves velvet handcuffs as Good Romp Reinecke implies is up to your discretion. Though, his advice does point toward something worth investigating; a heart strays when it is not compelled.
Understand why your husband went elsewhere. Direct this difficult reconnaissance to your future together. We know that forests naturally erupt in fires; they burn in order to grow again. Marriages can endure similar cycles of regeneration.
Whether God is a part of this equation is a question of faith, but Forgiving Cohen raises an excellent point: the crucial work of the conscience. He implies that the most exacting recourse is already taking place.
Beyond opposable thumbs, the conscience is one of our more exquisite features — if not our busiest intersection. There, obsessive conversations take place; verbal brawls between mind and heart. They keep us awake. And they keep us evolved. They talk us down from revenge. Understand that as you are suffering, so is your husband's former paramour; let this be enough.
When children are involved, all questions must be refracted through them. You must consider their actual and possible lives. The Guilt Outlasts Johnston invites you to do precisely this when she asks whether you could "condemn" children to a life without their mother.
Because you are not a werewolf or a vampire or some similarly bloodthirsty creature, but a woman who can apply intelligence and our greatest balm, love, to misery, you will no doubt focus on the untangling of your own life — and leave her to do the same. Think of it as a testament to your humanity.
Claudia Dey's plays, Beaver, The Gwendolyn Poems and Trout Stanley, have been staged across Canada. Her first novel, Stunt, will be published by Coach House Books in the spring. Visit her website at ClaudiaDey.com
*****
Next week's question
A reader writes: A few months back, I moved away from my wife and two children for a job. For family and lifestyle reasons (the very things that made me excited about the opportunity), my wife did not want to move. It causes a lot of tension between us, and I made the move knowing that my wife might never agree to move to where I was.
Some weeks after moving, when I was able to come back for a visit, my wife told me that she wanted to end our marriage. I don't want it to end but, because I do respect my wife and her wishes, I am going along with negotiating our separation.
Unfortunately, my profession is highly specialized, so that it is almost impossible for me to move back to where my wife and children are in the foreseeable future. My wife has made it clear that, to her, the hurt of my leaving is too great to forgive, so even if I did move back, it wouldn't matter.
Is there anything I can do to save this marriage?
Let's hear from you
Do you have an answer to this question, or a dilemma of your own that you'd like readers to help solve? Weigh in at grouptherapy@globeandmail.com, and be sure to include your hometown and a daytime contact number so we can follow up with any queries. (We will not publish your name if you submit a personal dilemma.)
