I Think He Knows

Tags

affair, cheater, husband, infidelity, loss, love, marriage, new beginnings, relationship, wife

I suspect my husband knows.

About this blog, I mean.

He knows how much I live and breathe writing, and would expect no less of me than to write my way out of the hell that has been the past four years.

Yes, the blog is full of “vituperative nonsense”, as ‘Someone’ once described it, but what else would you expect from a blog written by a betrayed wife?

You bet it’s full of fucking vituperation!

It took most of that four years to work the anger out of my system.

My blog is full of swear words and bitterness and raw anger that only time could tend to and eventually tame.

Not erase, but tame.

That, plus my husband’s magnanimous efforts in righting his wrongs, have eased the open wounds that bled for so long.

For years — more than 3.5yrs, in fact — I could not see a way out of the despair.

The despair of reading your husband’s words of seduction to another woman.

The heartbreak of learning your husband meet up with multiple women for God knows what.

The utter devastation of learning he began cheating while his wife was pregnant with their third and final child.

It takes some real fucking effort to pick yourself up after being discarded so cruelly by the one person in the world you thought had your back.

What I’ve realised through this entire saga is that I’m a goddam survivor.

I may have been brought to my knees, drowning in depression and anger, but I made it out the other fucking side.

There is nothing I cannot handle.

I can never be hurt like that again because I have hardened and become more resilient.

Even if I discovered my husband cheating again one day, I could shrug and walk away. I’d be mad but I wouldn’t be destroyed.

I’m near fucking invincible.

Yes, it would hurt, but nothing like the first time, when it seemed my world completely blew the fuck up and I was left standing in the middle holding the remnants of a grenade.

Anyone who makes light of affairs has not lived through it, and for that they should be fucking grateful.

Life may not always be so generous.

But this is the life I’ve had to live and adjust to. I didn’t ask for any of it. It was dumped on me by a thoughtless and selfish individual. We all had this shit dumped on us.

BUT…

Life is better today. It’s different. I’m different. I’m happy! I smile a lot, and most of the negativity I once carried has gone.

My husband and I have rediscovered a very active sex life, which has been a revelation. Sex four or five times a week is the norm. Previously, we could go months without being sexually intimate. I enjoy this new closeness.

I don’t think of a certain bunny boiler much at all these days. I look back to that time and I swear I must have been fucking mad. The thought of being with that revolting human repulses me no end, although I’m sure my husband would be excited at the prospect of a threesome LOL.

Before my husband and I turned a corner, he made a comment to me that he thought I had “checked out” of our marriage, terminology I had used when writing here. I thought it was odd, that he used that phrasing, but tried not to think about it.

Then, that night when we were lying in bed and I tried to tell him about you-know-who, he told me I didn’t need to tell him anything. Why not? Maybe he already knew?

So dear husband, if you are reading this, please let me know.

Just say to me, “I know.”

And if I’m stressing and in the middle of something and carrying on and I turn around and snap at you, “Know what??”, please cradle my face in your hands, look me in the eye, and repeat, “I know.”

We now know where we stand with each other.

Let’s make a clean break and be open.

I think we at least owe each other that.

xo

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The Truth Comes Out

Tags

affair, cheater, cheating, cunnilingus, husband, infidelity, marriage, wife

I did it.

Last night after the kids had gone to sleep, I lay down in bed with my husband and talked. For hours.

I told him I knew about Audrey and that he had cheated on me while I was pregnant.

He said, “I know, you forwarded the emails to me.”

Huh? I did? Yep, sure enough I had. Guess I was more rattled than I thought when I found them. Facepalm.

I stayed calm.

“How did you feel reading them back?” I asked, ” Because I’m having a hard time reconciling that you now, and you then, are the same person.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I can’t believe it either,” he said. “I read those emails and it was like a stranger had written them.”

“You were cheating on me while I was pregnant,” I said calmly. “Throughout all the therapy we underwent, you never once mentioned this Audrey. You told her you wanted to explore with her, spend the night with her, lie to me to be with her!”

“I know, I’m sorry. I told you that over that period, I had spoken to lots of women online.”

“I know,” I said. “But come on. You weren’t just speaking with her. You met her — for an early morning coffee!”

He said I could ask him anything I wanted, so I spent the next 20 minutes asking anything and everything I could think of about the mysterious Audrey.

I learned she was the one that cut off contact, he wasn’t intimate with her, and he didn’t even like her.

“Her English wasn’t very good,” I said, for no particular reason.

“She was Asian,” he said, and I burst out laughing.

My husband might like perving at long-legged blondes or brunettes in short skirts, but has never, ever shown any interest in women from the East.

“You didn’t know that before you went to meet her??”

“Nope.”

I knew that to be true, as in the email chain, she refused to send a picture or even describe what she looked like.

His expression when he laid eyes on her that morning at Starbucks must have been priceless.

She sent him no messages after that date.

So as we lay there talking, I looked at the man I feel in love with 26 years ago and saw the lines etched deeply into his face.

After a long purge from both of us, I felt at peace.

Except for one little thing.

I had to tell him about Lorna.

In her last email to me, she threatened to expose me to my husband if I didn’t permanently remove this blog from the internet.

There was no fucking way I was taking this blog down. And I sure as hell wasn’t giving her the opportunity to out me.

“I have to tell you something, too,” I said. My voice was trembling.

He looked at me.

“Don’t say what you’re about to say.”

“How do you know what I’m about to say?”

“I can just sense it. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“Yes, I do,” I said.

I took a very deep breath and began.

“Last year, I developed a crush on someone I worked with,” I said.

“I told them, but they weren’t interested and no relationship came of it.

“But what it did tell me was that I wasn’t dead inside.

“I’m telling you because they threatened to tell you and I couldn’t have you finding out like that.”

He watched my face as I spoke.

“Where does that leave us now?” I asked. “Are were committed to staying together?”

“I know I am,” he said. “I feel sick when I think about what I’ve put you through the past four years. I don’t deserve you.”

Well, that much may be true.

Here’s the thing: I know my own inner strength now.

Him cheating again, or even these additional revelations, won’t break me. Not again.

I’ve come a long way these four years. The marriage still has its ups and downs (more ups) but the overall projectile is upwards.

I love him.

And even though I thought it was all over last year, I stayed because I had not definitively decided what I was going to do.

“I’ve never loved anyone else,” I told him softly.

“Me either,” he said.

I snuggled into him.

Later, we made love, and I crashed out at peace with myself, with him, and our future.

At Peace

Tags

affair, betrayal, betrayed spouse, cheater, cheating, husband, life, namaste, sex, trauma, wife

They say most betrayed spouses take around two years to get over the worst pain of an affair, “to heal”.

I don’t believe you ever heal.

But as I come up to three 3-year anniversary of discovering the affair my husband was having, I can honestly say the worst is over.

In the past 6 months, my husband has had life-saving cancer surgery, I had a lengthy consultation with a divorce lawyer, and my doctor bumped up my depression and anxiety medication up to 150mg of venlafaxine.

I don’t think the three things have much to do with each other, but they are the most significant things to have happened recently– and they have all affected me to different degrees.

What I can say is that today, I feel different.

I am not angry all the time.

I have accepted the affair happened, and the part my shortcomings played in our marriage.

Whatever those shortcomings were, the responsibility for choosing to have an affair rests entirely with my husband. He had other options but took the coward’s way out.

Following the affair, my husband has been extremely remorseful and apologetic. He absolutely does not want our marriage to end and is committed to doing anything I ask. I have passwords and logins to everything. He is home on time and no longer “works late”. He is no longer on his phone non-stop.

I will always be sad that our marriage as I knew it is over, and I spent a large part of “healing” coming to terms with that. 

We no longer celebrate our anniversary and I don’t see that ever changing.

On the bright side, I feel normal again. My children have their mum back. 

Don’t ride the criticisms of the naysayers saying you should leave your husband. The decision is yours and yours alive. Nobody else is standing where you’re standing.

Recovery is ongoing but I’m in a different place now. It took almost 3 years to get here, but I’m here.

If you’ve recently discovered your husband was cheating on you, your mind is in much turmoil right now.

Take it from someone who has lived through the shitstorm you’re wading in that it won’t always feel like you’ve been run over by a truck.

Right now, you are in the eye of the tornado, with a million thoughts swirling around your head at lightning speed.

You will get picked up and dumped somewhere totally unexpected every single day.

If you don’t know whether to stay or leave, don’t feel rushed into making a decision. Stay until you feel it is right for you to go your own way. No-one is forcing you to decide. Bide your time until you are sure.

I can tell you that the storm does eventually ease.

You will still have days when you feel like shit. But they are the exception, not the norm.

I hope I’ve given you some hope. You can read my story ‘From The Beginning or D-Day‘ to see how far I’ve come and how many rollercoaster rides I took along the way.

The journey is long and shitty but at the end, you get your life back.

I feel like myself again.

And I wish the same for you.

SWxo

Missing Out After Kids’ Arrival

Tags

affair, Ashley Madison, asshole, cheater, cheating, husband, infidelity, trauma, wife

In a couple of weeks, it will be two years since I discovered my husband was cheating on me.
The past 24 months have been a violent ride on the infidelity rollercoaster. Bad days sprinkled with the rare good day have been the recipe for absolute misery.
I would really like to be able to say we are doing well. I’d love to be able to share some positive news.
But I have none.
In July, my husband and I went away to a health retreat in Fiji for two weeks without the kids.
It was bliss. We were in a good headspace, eating wonderful organic fresh food every day, and having sex every night. We felt closer than we had in a long time. Everything was going to be OK.
Then we got back. And things went sour.
I noticed that in our joint expenses program, there was an odd item. Condoms, $34.95. For a box of 140!
Since the last of our children was born, I swore I would not go back on the pill and my husband and I discussed him having a vasectomy. Although a little apprehensive, he agreed.
Then he goes and buys a box of condoms — 140 OF THEM!
Well, I lost my shit BIG TIME. Who the fuck buys condoms in such massive quantities? A brothel? A cheater?
I told him to go fuck himself. I refused to use even ONE of those stupid condoms.
And then the real kicker came a few weeks later with the Ashley Madison hack: he had an account, TWO in fact.
The description under his name read: “Thirty-something missing out after kids’ arrival.”
While I was struggling to juggle three children under the age of 5, he was busy lamenting he was missing out.
While I was busy preparing three different meals PLUS his meals, doing mountains of laundry, repairing my pelvis after suffering pubis symphisitis (splitting apart of the pelvis) from week 20 of the pregnancy, he was off checking out dating apps and affair websites. Because he was missing out. Selfish asshole.
When we were going through the post-affair shit in the immediate weeks following D-Day, I said to my husband “Lay it all out, I want to know everything. I don’t want to be discovering new stuff a year from now, two years from now.”
“There’s nothing else,” he said. Nothing else except a couple of Ashley Madison accounts, a secret email account which was immediately deleted, and now, a suspiciously large box of fucking condoms!
As you can imagine, things are not good right now. I cannot even pretend to be nice to him. In fact, I struggle to even be civil.
I gave him a chance to come clean about everything and he continued to hide things.
“I found your email account in the Ashley Madison hack,” I said to him that Sunday morning. “Why didn’t you tell me about that? ”
He drew in a deep breath. “It was all part of that same period,” he offered in the way of an explanation. The idiot even had the brains to use his real date of birth and OUR real suburb when joining the site.
“I signed up because I was curious, ” he said. “I never used it. I never met anyone from there.”
Never used it? YOU SIGNED UP FOR IT! DO YOU REALLY WANT TO HAVE A DEBATE WITH ME OVER FUCKING SEMANTICS??
Given we now know there was something like 3 women for every 10,000 men, the chances of actually meeting anyone on Ashley Madison were next to non-existent. But no-one knew that then. So I suppose if some hottie had thrown himself at him, he would have turned her down? Not bloody likely.
So where does this leave us? Let’s see. We’re currently living under the same roof but we don’t communicate unless it’s to discuss the children.
If he attempts to make small talk, I cut him off – I’m not interested, dickhead.
“I’m trying so hard,” he often says. Too bad you didn’t try before running off to some skanky married whore, I say silently.
Why am I still here? I’m miserable yet cannot leave as I have little income and three children in private school/daycare. We have a shitload of joint assets. We have three young children that we both agree should be brought up by two parents together. Bleugh.
I DIDN’T ASK FOR ANY OF THIS SHIT.
It’s a miserable existence. And I’m stuck in it until I choose to walk away.

Addendum: Thank you for reading my blog. I blog to clarify and to heal. It hurts that I am still with my cheater husband and I carry a huge amount of self-hate for still being here. I ask that you please not come here and say “just leave your husband already!” That might be what you did and that’s what was right in your situation, but please don’t pretend to be an expert in mine. We all move through this shitstorm in different ways. SWxo

Forget Divorce, ‘Staying’ Is The New Shame

Tags

affair, betrayal, betrayed spouse, cheater, esther perel, fuck it all, healing, hope, husband, infidelity, liar, lying sack of shit, marriage, other woman, sex, survey, trauma, wayward spouse, whore, wife, yougov

Last week, research body YouGov released the results of a survey asking 1660 British adults a bunch of questions relating to affairs. Of the 1660 questioned, 314 said they had engaged in an affair.

The press release only skims the surface, so if you’d like to see the ACTUAL poll results, scroll to the bottom of the page for the link to the PDF file.

Keeping in mind this sample is quite small, there were nonetheless some fascinating insights.

Much has been made of the result showing most men have affairs with work colleagues (44%), while women are more likely to have affairs with a friend (53%).

Digging deeper, I found far more remarkable stats.

This one really surprised me:

 

Have you ever taken a partner back after an affair?

Yes, I have 14%

No, I have not 75%

(Other 11%)

 

Fellow betrayed spouses reading this, we are in the minority. Three quarters of betrayed spouses said NO WAY, FUCK OFF. That is a surprisingly high figure.

 

Q. Why did you have an affair?

There were three stand-out answers here:

I felt flattered by the attention (men 35%, women 44%)

I felt emotionally deprived in my relationship (men 29%, women 43%)

I was dissatisfied with my sex life (men 32%, women 15%)

Wow, what a huge disparity in the sex life numbers! If you ever wanted more proof men want more sex than you think, there it is.

 

Q. Was the person you were having an affair with also cheating on someone else?

Yes, they were 55%

No, they were not 39%

Proof everyone is cheating on everyone else! OK, maybe not. But sometimes, it sure seems that way.

 

Q. Which, if any, of the following do you consider as cheating? Please tick all that apply.

Having sex with someone who isn’t my partner 92%

Oral sex 84%

Using a prostitute 82%

Romantically kissing someone else 75%

Having webcam sex with a stranger 73%

Sexting someone else 67%

Forming an emotional relationship with someone who isn’t my partner 44%

Other 4%

This question was asked of everyone, whether they’d actually had an affair or not. What disturbs me is the level of ignorance concerning emotional affairs. Let’s admit it, many of us didn’t know we’d be so affected by an emotional affair, mere WORDS on a screen.

MOST of us thought our partners having actual sex with someone else would devastate us the most, but here’s the truth of it. Hurt is hurt. Let that sink in for a bit. Hurt is hurt. The way you were hurt is different to the way someone else was hurt, but the affects are the same: devastation, sadness, mourning, realising your relationship was a sham, anger. Someone else’s hurt is not your hurt. Your hurt is your own hurt, your pain is your own pain. They way you feel it is REAL.

A few other curious findings:

• One affair was not enough. Almost 50% of respondents had engaged in two or more affairs. Sobering thought.
• Most affairs ended because the cheater decided to end it (men 38%, women 49%).
• 41% of cheaters said they had children with the partner they were cheating on.
• 67% of men said an affair improved the relationship with their partner because “it made me appreciate what I had” (yeah, right). Only 44% of women gave this answer.
• Most affairs lasted less than 6 months.
• Most affairs happened when the couple had been married more than 10 years.

While we’re on the topic of affairs (this IS an affair blog!), if you haven’t already watched the Esther Perel TED talk ‘Rethinking Infidelity’, GO NOW. Set aside 22 minutes of your time, and watch this expert psychologist detangle the reasons why people cheat and the psychology behind it. It’s a fascinating insight. I’ve watched it 4 times now and discover something new with every listen. I’ve also sent it to my husband.

Consider her hypothesis that having an affair is not about you, the betrayed spouse, but about a cheater trying to find another sense of themselves. It’s a fascinating concept. Have a listen.

In her presentation, Perel also makes the observation that once upon a time, divorce was likely to be a great source of shame.

Today, she says, “choosing to stay WHEN YOU CAN LEAVE is the new shame”. I agree wholeheartedly. It angers me that this shame is not ours to wear, yet we do. But why? Why do we feel ashamed? Our husbands were the ones who cheated, yet we’re the ones staying to wade through all the shit, AND have the added burden of shame? It’s a slap in the face.

What a stinging observation.

I do admire Perel’s belief that a marriage can be better after an affair. But, she says, you must first acknowledge your first marriage is over. Most of us, she says, are destined to have two or three big relationships/marriages in our lifetime, “and some of us are going to do it with the same person”.

It’s an optimistic outlook. Hopeful.

Something to think about.

 

 

Happy Valentine’s Day, Husband

Tags

affair, cheater, cheating, couple, couples, emotional affair, fuck it all, husband, infidelity, intimacy, love, marriage, trauma, valentines's day

To my Husband on Valentine’s Day:

 

On this day for lovers, I feel nothing but sadness and emptiness.

I look around and I see happy people, happy couples.

I am not one of them. We are not one of them.

We were, though, do you remember? We used to be so happy. We fell in love, we had good jobs, we lived overseas, we returned to our homeland, we had children, we fell in a rut.

You changed. I changed. Our marriage changed.

But we never discussed it.

The most important thing in our life, and we let it waste away.

We were once invincible. It was once us against the rest of the crumbling world.

Then we began to crumble and we couldn’t even see it, let along acknowledge it.

Your affair sealed the deal.

Now when you say you love me, it’s like you’re slapping me across the face. I know you see me wince when you say it, because you’ve now stopped saying it altogether.

You may love me, but not enough. You wanted someone else.

Someone else to be with, to talk to, to be intimate with. That hurts so, so very much. Because that was the reason *I* was here. I was supposed to be that person.

And to make it hurt so much more, you told me lies, lots of them. About working late. About going out for lunch. About what you were doing on your phone. About who you were talking to.

The trickle truth has been excruciating. I know you haven’t told me everything.

And that’s why nothing will ever be the way it was.

The way I love you has changed.

Yes, I do still love you. But my eyes have now been opened as to how much that gives you permission to hurt me.

I see people grow old together and I thought that would one day be us.

But now I find it hard to think beyond the current week. But I’m getting better – 15 months ago, I couldn’t think beyond the current minute.

Maybe one day we’ll be able to make longer-term plans.

For now, I feel empty, wooden, dead. Even after 15 months of ‘healing’, I don’t know if this feeling ever ends. It’s like living a half-life.

Your affair affected me beyond comprehension. Nobody understands this pain unless they are standing where I am standing.

My life is so very different now. Most importantly, I no longer believe in love that lasts forever.

And I didn’t even have any say in the matter. I didn’t get to decide what our future would look like because you made the decision on your own.

I am torn between wanting to love you, and being terrified to love you.

If I love you, it means I am resigning myself to being open to any further pain you may one day inflict on me again.

I just don’t think I am stable or strong enough to take another hit.

But I’m still here. Hopeful. Scared. Still numb.

And as long as we’re both still here, there is a glimmer of hope that we may be able to survive this grenade you threw into our marriage.

Happy Fuck Valentine’s Day.

 

Love, Your Wife.

What Makes An Affair News?

Tags

affair, asshole, betrayed, betrayed spouse, cheater, cheating husband, Christchurch, co-worker, colleagues, couple, fucker, husband, insurance, Marsh, New Zealand, office, sex, whore, wife

I was catching up on the news of the day online last night when I noticed one of the top stories was ‘Christchurch office sex caught on camera from busy bar across the road’.

Today, 12 hours later, it’s still the top story by far on news.com.au. It has four times as many readers as the next story down.

So here’s the gist: a man and woman were having sex in an office, after hours, last Friday night. The entire scene was clearly visible from a busy pub across the street. (The pair likely thought the tinted office windows would prevent anyone from seeing in.) Naturally, pub patrons were captivated by this free porn show and photographed it endlessly. Photos of the pair went viral.

The problem: he’s married, she’s engaged. The two are work colleagues at Marsh, a very respectable New Zealand insurance company. Various reports have him as a senior manager in his 50s (looks younger to me), and she in her early 20s. She is possibly his secretary, according to one report.

The story goes on to say that the wife of the married man is no longer speaking to him and has been “crying non-stop”. They also have children.

We don’t know much about the female, except that “her Facebook page has been deleted”, according to a statement by Marsh, which is also investigating disciplinary action against the pair.

Apparently, neither have turned up to work this week.

This story brought up many feelings and questions for me.

Q. What the fuck makes this news exactly?
A. People with mobile phones who can capture it, then easily distribute it. The illicit sex angle. The affair angle.

Q. What must the wife be going though?
A. Sadly, too many of us will have some inkling of what she’s going through. Unlike most of us, however, our husbands’ affairs weren’t splashed across the world’s media. Some betrayed spouses have not told one living, breathing soul about their husband’s affair, outside of the blogosphere. This wife will never have to wonder what the two did together. It’s all there, captured from many, many angles.

Q. Would most men take advantage if they were in a similar situation?
A. Knowing what I now know, I’d say yes. Office affairs are insidious. Sneaky. Stealthy. Cunning. Deceitful. And unless one of the involved parties leaves, the threat remains.

Q. Is it right for the pub patrons / world’s media / bloggers to publish pictures of the pair?
A. They knew what they were doing. I have no problem outing cheaters.

Whores. Both of them.

If anyone wants to read the full story, you can find it here.

Hello 2015, Please Be Kind

Tags

affair, affair infidelity trauma husband wife betrayal diet, betrayal, cheater, cheating husband, D-Day, emotional affair, husband, infidelity, intimacy, marriage, recovering after my husband's affair

It’s a new year and therefore a new start.

For people who’ve been cheated on, the start of a new year signifies a way to say goodbye to a shit-filled year, and hello to something that’s hopefully an improvement.

At least, that’s what it means to me.

I must admit I feel a certain amount of hope as 2015 gets under way.

On the second day of the year, I sat down with my husband and had one of “those” talks. A talk about our future, where we see ourselves heading, how things are shaping up.

We tend to have these talks in the dark after we’ve put the kids to bed for the night.

In this case, it was the middle of the lounge room floor. Late. In the dark.

I had been trying to talk to my husband for days leading in to the end of 2014, because as I said to him, “there are some things I want to leave behind in 2014 and not drag into the new year.” As it happened, this wasn’t to be. It was now late on January 2.

(Although we hit rough seas after weeks of being on even keel, 2014 ended on a fairly sober note. He didn’t go to his work staff awards night party, which I was happy about, and even more glad he didn’t go to his band Christmas party. Both are serious triggers for me and he recognises and acknowledges their effect on me.)

So as we sat on the lounge room floor, I eventually spoke.

“As you know,” I began, “I spent a lot of time in 2014 thinking about whether I wanted to stay or go.”

“I know,” he said.

“I had to work out whether I wanted to stay in this marriage and be miserable, or go and have a shot at being happy.”

“Is that your only choice? Staying and being miserable?”

“I’d like to be happy one day, but I don’t see that happening any time soon.”

It was dark, but I could see his head was hanging in sadness. There was silence.

“In any case,” I said, “I don’t want to leave.”

He let out a huge sigh of what sounded like relief.

“I love you,” he said. I didn’t respond.

“We have so many good weeks that give me hope, then you go and do something stupid that sets us back MONTHS, ” I said.

“I know, ” he said. “I’m sorry. What can I do?”

“You can stop drinking alcohol for 6 months. Do you think you can do that?” I asked.

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, of course.”

And so everywhere we’ve been since January 3 has been alcohol-free.

Having my husband drunk and doing something stupid is one thing I don’t have to worry about at the moment. I cannot tell you how freeing that is. My husband never drinks at home, only when we/he goes out. For now, I needed him to not drink for a while. My mind needed it.

He is trying to to do whatever I’m asking of him. And for that I am grateful.

Tomorrow marks 14 months since D-Day. And while I’m no longer a complete emotional wreck, I still have plenty of down days, down moods and down energy.

Anything he can do to change that is a positive step.

The New Meaning Of Music

Tags

affair, affair infidelity trauma husband wife betrayal diet, betrayed spouse, bryan adams, cheater, cheating husband, emotional affair, fuck, hate, healing spouse, infidelity, music, paloma faith, ray parker jr, recovering after my husband's affair, sam smith

“She says her love for me could never die.

That’d change if she ever found out about you and I.”

Oh, how many times I have sung those lyrics! The song is Run To You, the singer is Bryan Adams.

It’s devastating how discovering your husband was cheating on you changes the way you hear lyrics, changes their meaning, their effect on your soul.

The next line in the song goes:

“Oh, but her love is cold.

It wouldn’t hurt her if she didn’t know.”

What was once one of my favourite songs is now a source of pain.

Songs I loved bopping around to now anger me. How could I have sung these lines so oblivious as to their meaning?

Then there’s Ray Parker Jr, ‘The Other Woman’.

“I’m in love

With the Other Woman

My life was fine

Until she blew my mind.”

The song also contains the lyrics:

“Now I hate to have to cheat

But it feels better when I sneak.”

As you can see, I came from a decade of wonderful pop songs. This music fills my library. Music that once brought me such happiness and found solace in, is now a landmine of triggers.

I picked up the new Paloma Faith album recently. Some of the song titles include:

Can’t Rely on You

Only Love Can Hurt Like This (great song)

Other Woman

The Bigger You Love (The Harder You Fall)

Love Only Leaves You Lonely

It’s the Not Knowing

Poor Paloma. They are song titles only a betrayed spouse could have come up with.

This is messed up.

Which is, I suspect, why so many betrayed/healing spouses relate to Sam Smith.

Here is ‘I’m Not The Only One’.

“You and me, we made a vow

For better or for worse

I can’t believe you let me down

But the proof’s in the way it hurts.”

I could add more but I’m going to stop.

What songs did your partner’s affair ruin for you?

Rough Seas

Tags

affair, affair infidelity trauma husband wife betrayal diet, asshole, asshole husband, betrayal, betrayed, betrayed spouse, cheater, cheating husband, emotional affair, fuck, fuck it all, fucker, infidelity, kiss, stupid husband

Remember when I wrote things with my husband were on an even keel at the moment? Well that moment has passed. We’ve now hit rough seas.

We went out this week to see a live band, an 18-piece big band. Jazz isn’t hugely my thing, but seeing as I’m married to a jazz musician, I make an effort. Some of his friends from his own big band were going to be there (in the crowd), so I said ‘yes’.

I have an 18-month old baby who still can’t sleep through the night, so I’m normally shattered fairly early in the evening. I have been known to put baby to sleep then simply crash out at the same time. So to go out on a ‘school night’ where I need to get up and be super mum early the next morning, is a huge effort for me!

Babysitters were arranged and we headed out just after 8pm (my bed-time most nights). When we arrived, his friends were already there, as well as two ‘recruits’ who had yet to formally join the band he plays in. One of these young recruits was female.

To cut a long story short, he drank too much, ended up speaking too loudly in his ‘I’m half-drunk silly voice’, and I’d had enough. He was buying rounds with his mate (an utterly stupid Australian custom where one friend tries to keep up with the drinking pace of his other friends so they keep buying each other non-stop drinks with barely a breath between them). Ugh. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. At about 10.30pm, I said I wanted to leave.

My husband looked at me as if to say “Really? You want to go? Now??” He didn’t have much fucking choice, to be honest. He was drunk as a skunk and I rarely drink, so I was his ride home. “I’m tired,” I said. I left out the bit “I want to leave before you fucking embarrass yourself and me.”

So we got up to go. I said bye to his friends, and he leaned in to KISS the young recruit. Seriously, after the episode with Gina the overweight giraffe from his band, he KISSED this young girl?! She looked embarrassed. I felt embarrassed for her! Not to mention how seriously my husband outranks her which could be cause for action, if she was that way inclined. God. What a dick my husband is.

We walked out of the club and my husband starts chirping on about what a great night it was, and how he loves listening to live bands, and how great it was that we both went.

“Why the fuck did you have to kiss that girl?” I ask. “She looked MORTIFIED!”. He was lost for words… “Sorry – I didn’t think…”. “No, you fucking did not, because you’re off your face and you’ve been throwing back the beers non-stop since we walked through the door. Fuck, you’re 42, not 18! Can’t you PACE yourself when you go out to have a good night? Why do you have to act so fucking stupid?”

Silence.

What could he say?

“Sometimes I wonder if you ask me out to these things so you have a fucking ride home!” I yelled as we walked along the dark footpath to our car. Low blow, I know.

Anyway, that was Wednesday night. It’s now Friday morning. We’ve barely said two non-essential words to each other since then.

Fuck him.

It was his thoughtless affair that turned me into a psycho bitch.

He can deal with it.