I’m struggling with something that I’m hoping others who have experienced infidelity might understand or offer perspective on.
As painful as the affair has been, I’m realizing that some of my deepest hurt comes from a pattern in my marriage that existed long before the affair ever happened.
When I’m hurting, crying, scared, or emotionally overwhelmed, my husband often responds with anger, frustration, or distance rather than comfort. This isn’t exclusive to situations where he has hurt me. Years ago, after I got into a car accident when I was 2 months PP, I was in the car alone. I was shaken up and scared. I remember worrying that my husband would be angry because the accident was my fault. When I called him, he became angry, asked what I wanted him to do about it, and told me to figure it out. I remember feeling so abandoned and alone. I wasn’t just worried about the accident; I was heartbroken that my husband didn’t seem concerned about my emotional well-being.
I’ve explained these feelings to him many times over the years. 8+ years I’ve tried to communicate what I need and how much it hurts when I reach for him in vulnerable moments and am met with anger or withdrawal. But the pattern continues. It continued when he brought up open marriage a year into our own when our DD was one and I struggled so much but I tried, eventually the emotional abandonment led to me completely abandoning myself. I feel so stupid that I thought he would eventually be able to care about my feelings instead of feeling like I was constantly too much or too emotional. I spent many nights crying alone and feeling like something was wrong with me for not just being ok with him wanting to experience other people.
Since the affair, this dynamic has become even more painful. I need him to sit with my pain, reassure me, show me that he understands the damage he caused, and actively participate in rebuilding the emotional safety that was lost. I don’t want to talk about the affair forever, either. What I’ve tried to explain is that when he leans in, listens, comforts me, and takes initiative in our healing, I actually do better. I have fewer intrusive thoughts and can go longer without getting caught in the pain. When he becomes defensive, shuts down, or spirals into shame, I end up feeling even more alone, and all the fears come rushing back.
I’ve also noticed how differently we respond to each other’s pain. When he cries or struggles emotionally, I instinctively want to comfort him. I rub his back, ask questions, try to understand what he’s feeling, and reassure him. I make room for his pain, even when I’m hurting myself. But when I’m the one who needs comfort, he often withdraws or becomes angry, and I’m left trying to manage my feelings alone.
I keep wondering why it feels so difficult for him to offer me the same tenderness I offer him. I sometimes find myself questioning whether he loves me as deeply as I love him, even though I know I can’t truly know what he feels internally.
What I’m struggling with most right now is the fear that this is simply who he is. That perhaps he cannot love me in the way I’ve needed him to all along. I don’t want a different life. I love my husband, I love our family, and I want our marriage. I want the life we have, but with a husband who is emotionally present, supportive, and willing to do the hard work of becoming a safer partner for me. I feel like what I am asking for is foolish, like it's an impossible ask of a partner in life.
I want to feel seen and cherished. I want to know that he is grateful for the chance to repair our marriage and is willing to take meaningful action, including finding a therapist and doing his own work. I want to feel that my pain matters to him, that I am worth the difficult work of rebuilding trust, and that he wants to become the kind of husband who hears my heart and protects it even from his own reactions.
I’ve spent so much time trying to understand him, his struggles, and why he responds the way he does. But I’m exhausted by the thought that I might spend my life explaining the same needs and hoping that someday he will finally respond differently.
I think what I’m grieving is the possibility that I may never have the kind of emotional partnership I’ve always wanted with the person I love most.
For those of you further along in healing after infidelity, I would really appreciate your perspective. Have you experienced this kind of longstanding emotional disconnection alongside the affair? Have you seen a partner genuinely change this pattern, especially when it existed long before the betrayal? How did you distinguish between someone who struggles with emotional intimacy but is willing to grow and someone who simply cannot or will not meet you there?
