Dear Woman Who Had a Relationship with My Partner,
Three years ago, my husband, Tom, and I were navigating our seventh year of marriage when he crossed a line. I made the decision to stay with him, but that choice often brings with it judgment from others—just as it does for those who stray. I want to shed some light on what it’s like for women like me who choose to stick around.
A Little About Me:
Let’s clear the air: I’m no pushover. I embrace my identity as a strong, proud feminist. While I champion the consent movement, I certainly didn’t give my approval for you and Tom to become involved. Perhaps in your past, you always practiced safe choices or dated single friends. But in this case, that “honor among thieves” didn’t apply—he was with me while he was with you.
Being a feminist doesn’t mean I should bolt at the first sign of betrayal or that my self-worth is tied to his actions. Sometimes, staying means understanding that his poor choices don’t reflect my value. I know his infidelity was not my doing.
We Couldn’t Afford a Girlfriend:
In our household, I work only a few times a month as I dedicate most of my time to raising our three little ones. With limited income, when Tom spent on gifts for you, that money came directly from our family’s necessities, like a birthday party for one of our kids or essential braces. While I understand you may have felt a lack of affection and validation, Tom’s gifts to you were taken from our life together. By accepting those gifts, you became part of that theft.
Our Marriage Was Thriving:
At the time of Tom’s affair, our relationship was strong. We enjoyed an active and fulfilling sexual life, went on dates, and shared our dreams and worries. Cheating usually points to underlying issues, but not every infidelity stems from a failing marriage. My husband sought attention elsewhere not because I neglected our bond; he made a poor choice. Now, eleven years in, I find myself more attracted to him than ever. Sometimes, I even wake him up late at night for a little fun!
It’s tempting to think affairs happen only when love has faded, but that’s not always the case. I won’t accept the idea that Tom was lonely when he had someone at home who cared deeply about him. I’m not taking advice on fidelity from someone who can’t honor commitment.
Divorce Might Still Be an Option:
Healing from betrayal doesn’t follow a calendar. If I knew I could put a date on my emotional recovery, I’d gladly wait. Yet, memories of that painful revelation still creep in, triggering the same hurt I felt three years ago. In those moments, I have to pick myself up, put on a brave face, and be a mother. It’s frustrating to feel like I’m the only adult who prioritized our children throughout this ordeal.
Maybe it’s easier to believe I didn’t love my marriage enough, but that’s far from the truth. Your connection with Tom shattered my sense of security. When you say it was casual, I can only respond: it wasn’t casual for me. Your fleeting moments with him have left lasting scars.
Finding Gratitude in the Pain:
I know this sounds odd, but your affair has led to unexpected growth in my life. While I wouldn’t welcome you with open arms, your actions prompted some serious self-reflection. I’ve grown closer to Tom than I thought possible, and we’ve learned to be more vulnerable with each other. I learned that even strong marriages have their cracks, and that I possess more strength and forgiveness than I ever imagined.
Your actions, while hurtful, pushed me to rise to the occasion. I discovered that I could choose grace over bitterness, and that all marriages can be fragile, regardless of their strength.
What I’ve Come to Understand:
I recognize that you owe me nothing. By choosing to stay with Tom, I’ve accepted the reality of your affair as part of my journey. I’ve embarked on therapy and embraced the mantra of “Today I choose marriage” each day. It’s been three years since that fateful chat, and the pain remains. Those messages are etched in my memory, a part of our story, much like our wedding vows. I choose this path, fully aware of the weight it carries.
I’ve learned that sometimes, staying is the tougher road. You might think I’m not your problem since you weren’t married to me, but your choices impacted my life profoundly. I won’t ignore that connection. Your actions became my consequences; we are intertwined in this story.
I can say that I forgive you, even without an apology. Perhaps one day, you’ll recognize that not all people choose affairs to heal their hearts. I hope you can find a moment of reflection that leads you toward growth, too.
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In summary, this journey has taught me resilience, the fragility of relationships, and the power of forgiveness.