Beware the ides of March, indeed. I discovered my husband’s infidelity on March 15 and what tipped me off, of all things, was a t-shirt. He was getting ready to leave for work and I noticed the collar of a bright green t-shirt popping out from under his work shirt, as opposed to his standard white Hanes tee. It wasn’t a shirt I had ever seen before and so I asked whose shirt he was wearing. He stammered and became flustered and nervous, lamely offering up that it was a male coworker’s. I instantly knew he was lying and instinctively sensed it wasn’t just an innocent mix-up – after all, how and for what reason could he possibly come into possession of someone else’s shirt?
He left for work and I went about my day with our 13 month old son, nagged by suspicion. Previously, I had been so sure that my husband would never cheat on me. In fact, I was almost arrogant in the assumption, since I have traditionally worn the pants in the relationship and he somewhat placed me on a pedestal. I had the tendency to play the role of the bitchy, high-maintenance wife and, deep down, I think I believed I was somewhat better than him. I am very attractive, thin (back to a size 2 almost immediately after the birth of our son), intelligent, witty, and successful, while he’s struggled to find a “real” job, working as a waiter, a job which not only pays relatively little (and forces me into the role of main breadwinner and all the stress that comes along with it), but also keeps us apart on nights, weekends, and holidays. I often was annoyed with him for his stagnation in that respect and also because his work schedule meant that I was left to have dinner alone many nights and spend holidays and weekend nights with friends and their husbands feeling like a single woman. I felt guilty that I was often dismissive or sometimes just outright mean to him because I thought his immaturity was mostly benign and though he wasn’t as successful as I’d like him to be, I do love him and enjoy his company and don’t want to be with anyone else, even though I admittedly took him for granted often.
When we spoke, his story had changed and now it was a female coworker’s shirt. He said she had changed in his car or the restaurant (he claimed to not remember) and had left the shirt in his car when he dropped her off at the bar to meet up with other coworkers for after-work drinks. Again, this was obviously a lie, as I am not a highly jealous or irrational person and if that were the truth, it would have sufficed and there would have been no need to lie about it. Still, he swore so adamantly how much he loved me and would never risk what we have for a few minutes of pleasure (again, I was also convinced of this before that day), that I was almost ready to believe him and began suppressing my doubts. Although things seemed highly suspicious, I KNEW he loved me very much and therefore wouldn’t do such a thing.
At around 3 am, I received an email from the boyfriend of a female coworker (NOT the one he had claimed own the shirt – apparently, he was trying to throw me off the trail) informing me that she had felt guilty and confessed to him that she had sex with my husband on one occasion over the summer, but they had recently been talking on the phone at night. I knew this coworker and never really liked her – something always struck me as off. I would see her comments to her male coworkers on social media and thought that she was just a tad too familiar, always seeking attention from men. She’s ten years younger than my husband, but overweight and unattractive (thank god, I feel jealous enough as is and I know it’s petty, but I think it would be worse if I wasn’t unequivocally more beautiful than her). He admitted the affair, but said it was a one time physical thing (after work drinks that led to more – on a night where they got out early and I wouldn’t be suspicious that he wasn’t home yet). He said the phone relationship was not sexual in nature, that he tried to push that part of things out of his mind, but he did enjoy talking to her as a friend. He said she was easy to talk to and quick to laugh at all his stories - stories that I'm no longer so quick to laugh at because I've heard them so many times over the years. He said he felt lonely because after our son was born, he felt that all my love went to him and that I never had time for him and never even wanted to talk to him anymore. I was often cold and dismissive of him, assuredly, but as I said, I love him and would have been open to him had I known he was feeling that way. He would occasionally make comments or ask me if I still loved him, but his demeanor never struck me as serious. I was totally blind to what was going on and what led up to it.
I expected to feel righteous indignation – I’ve carried our family financially for years, waiting for him to find a good job and contribute more and be present. I could have cut him off and kicked him out of our home. But my first response was that I felt threatened. Though in my head I had often wondered if I could “do better,” the traits I would fantasize about in someone else were always superficial – money, success - yet I could never picture spending my life with anyone other than him. In the reality of the situation, I felt scared and threatened and I knew I didn’t want to lose him. He swore to me that he never loved her, that he doesn’t miss her, and doesn’t think about her unless I bring it up (and I bring it up a lot. For someone like me, who admittedly has somewhat of a large ego, the sting is as harsh as a whip across the cheek). He submitted for a transfer and no longer works with her. We immediately sought counseling and he has told me he is determined to do what it takes to win back my trust. He said I’m the love of his life and he doesn’t want to be with anyone else, that he wants to grow old with me and have a happy future together and believes we can.
I don’t blame myself for his affair, but I can see that my behavior did contribute to the disconnect and loneliness festering in our marriage that led him to it. I feel like we’re doing all the right things to save our marriage and yet I still feel like I’m going through post traumatic stress disorder. Some days, I’m fine and happy and positive about our future together. Other days, I feel like I’m fooling myself and setting myself up for heartbreak down the line. I was so caught off guard by his infidelity that everything I thought I knew about myself and him and our life together seems up in the air. Also, the chronic lying that was required to keep this a secret is terrifying to me. I am an open book and, though I have my flaws, dishonesty is not one of them. Some days, I am filled with rage, which oddly enough, is mostly directed towards her. I want to tear her down and humiliate her, but I don’t because I am trying to take the higher ground and also not to vilify her. She’s no monster, just a stupid girl who I don’t believe realized the seriousness of the situation she was playing around with. I want to forgive and move on, but to truly forgive requires great humility and a part of my ego still wants to right the wrongs through revenge.
I really don’t even know why I’m posting this. I guess I just want to vent and also to see if anyone has any experience making a marriage work after such a horrible traumatic event. It might sound crazy, but I believe this awful incident might ultimately make our marriage stronger. The idea of not being with him made me realize how much I love him and had been taking him for granted (I don’t tell him that though because I don’t want him to think his affair was a good thing.) I guess I just want some reassurance, because I feel so insecure and shaky right now, which is territory I’m not used to treading.
[This message edited by Thella at 2:15 PM, April 25th (Friday)]