Hurt

The mobster and I were talking one day about the topic of being hurt by infidelity. I responded that CF didn’t hurt me. He pissed me off. He then went on to ask, “You were never hurt by his behavior?”

I had to think about that and I had to go way back to when all this crap first started, back in 2013.

I was extremely naive in 2013. I still thought I was married to an upstanding, honorable guy. A guy who understood and believed in things like: honor, commitment, marriage, fidelity. I never in a million years thought he would cheat on me. How stupid is that? I know I’ve said before that I figured maybe he would one day leave me, but I never thought he’d cheat. STUPID!

So back to me finding out something hinky was up five years ago….

When I first discovered him there, shriveled up in our bathtub, rocking himself back and forth and giving a performance of a lifetime in his self-written, self-directed, self-starring (naturally) play, “Anxiety, Thy Name Is Cousinfucker” I couldn’t begin to imagine what the problem might be. When he tearfully told me, in a whispered voice, “I’ve been texting other women,” the bottom dropped out of my world. I was absolutely shell shocked. This was simply not something that he would do. He had just told me less than 6 weeks prior that he loved me and he had always loved me.

I was so stupid and so naive that I actually convinced myself that he was probably only confessing because he felt guilty that he had actually talked to other women about our marriage. Yes, that’s how far my head was stuck in the ground. I foolishly thought he felt guilty about merely talking to other women, maybe confiding in them about our marriage. At that moment it never occurred to me that he was sexting or saying, “I love you,” to his whore cousin, or making plans for a future with her.

No, it took another whole week or so and a little bit of mind fucking from the whore before I began to suspect that maybe his texting hadn’t been so innocent after all.

I don’t recall feeling hurt back then though. I was sad. I was sad about my marriage potentially ending. I was sad about disrupting my kids’ lives. I was sad about the implosion of a 17 year relationship. I was sad that I had let things get to that point (and yes, at that point I was willing to shoulder almost all of the blame). I remember crying. I remember wanting things to go back. I remember wanting our marriage to work out and to be restored. I remember wanting him to love me again. But I don’t remember being hurt, or feeling hurt. Sadness was my overwhelming emotion.

Yet I spent the next three months trying to show him what life could be like for us. I spent the next three months “pick me” dancing, trying to cautiously woo him back. I rejoiced when he tenderly fed me a piece of tenderloin he had grilled. I was thrilled with every seeming loving gesture from him. He never said, “I love you,” and I didn’t say it either as I didn’t want to push him and “scare him”.

I wasn’t completely sure the whore was gone at first. She was very good with the mind fuck- posting little inspirational quotes, liking his pictures. And then came the day I believed she was gone for good and we were back on track. Followed shortly by her husband contacting me and letting me know they were still at it.

Hurt? Oh, honey, I was pissed! There was no hurt. There was only fury. “What in the fuck are you doing and why are you doing it? Are you seriously willing to give up your wife and kids for your cousin? She’s a fantasy, not reality.”

I was not nice. I was not calm, although I wasn’t as out of control as one would think I might be. Hey, I had a party to throw; I would not disappoint Rock Star. I yelled. I told him outright that he needed to shit or get off the pot, that I deserved to be happy, too, and I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for him to dump me when Picasso graduated from high school.

I felt certain that divorce was imminent. I didn’t think he would “pick” me. I was pretty certain after I issued my ultimatum (you end it now or we’re done) that he was going to pick her (and he did- it just took him two more years of wasting my life and completely destroying the lives we all had out in Utah before he could do it). But I remember being so happy when I got the text message that he was going to end it, that he didn’t want to lose any of us. Blech! I should have left his sorry ass back then and saved myself a whole lot of trouble.

I had sadness when I thought my marriage was over. I had fury/anger when I realized he had been duping me all summer long. But I can’t say that he ever hurt me. His behavior the first time stunned me but it didn’t hurt me. His behavior the second time pissed me off.

I think what actually hurt me more than anything was realizing what a bunch of complete assholes his family was. They never cut the whore off. I was disposable; she was not. It took me a very long time to wrap my mind around that. Naturally, just as I began to forgive them and gradually allow them back into my life he cheated once again and they, once again, were done with me and fawning all over and supporting his union with Harley.

Fast forward two years and once again I find out he’s cheating. Again I’m in disbelief. Not hurt. Frantic. Juggling twenty million things. Keeping all those plates spinning. Thinking about the situation financially and not with my penis.

Seriously- he had been a mess for more than six months. He had emotionally drained me. I was perpetually in fear that he was going to have a massive breakdown and we would end up bankrupt. He had moved us 2000 miles across the country because this job was supposed to make him happy and he was so miserable out in Utah, and yet here he was less than a year later, crying in bed and supposedly unable to function. I don’t know why but I had this feeling that he was once again involved with the whore. I was probably right.

I wasn’t sad; I was suicidal. I wasn’t suicidal because the great love of my life might be off and running with the whore. I was suicidal because I could not take anymore of his shit- the crying, the drinking, the unhappiness, shutting himself off from the rest of us, breaking down every time we turned around, unable to take him anywhere, never able to make him happy, watching all of our dreams collapse around our feet in this new place with no friends and no support. I was mentally exhausted. I had been sold some magic beans, but unlike those beans that led to the goose that laid the golden eggs, my beans were old and rancid and led to nothing except total destruction.

I had kept trudging on. I would put my head down and keep going. We would fix this. We would be happy once again, like we had been. All those dreams we talked about when we talked about moving would become a reality. I was convinced I could do it by sheer will power alone. Until I could no longer do it.

I remember getting that message from The Saint, and my heart sinking. It didn’t break; it sank. Now I had to figure out what the hell I was going to do. Keep those plates spinning!

He had no worries. He didn’t care about what would happen to the house. He didn’t care about the upheaval the kids would experience. He didn’t think about the pool we had just put in our backyard, or the money we had spent decorating and furnishing this new house. He didn’t think about the new car he had just bought for me, or the two new kittens we had, or the new cell phone company we had just switched to. He was fucking his cousin. The world was his oyster! No, I was left to worry about those things.

So no, once again, I was not hurt. I was in a panic. I had kids to worry about and protect. I was worried about the house. Our mortgage was less than a year old and I had no idea how I would ever be able to afford to maintain this house on my own. I didn’t know if I would get enough in support to pay the mortgage, much less be able to replace a furnace or air conditioning unit if necessary. How would I make repairs to the house and keep the yard and pool up? I worried about how we were going to pay off the pool and our other debts. I worried about whether or not the kids would be attending their current schools or I would have to uproot them once again and move in with my mom. While I was tasked with letting Rock Star and Picasso know that their parents were getting a divorce, he was off having another fuck-fest weekend with Harley the Whore.

I kept the house clean, went grocery shopping, made breakfast and dinner for my kids, chauffeured my daughter, and took care of the dogs and cats. I stayed involved in their schools and activities, and paid the bills and went on field trips with them, while I also worried about finding a job and what I was going to do, how I was going to find insurance once the divorce was final, and learning how to live on a whole lot less than we had been living on. There wasn’t time to be hurt. I was trying to survive.

Sure, there were moments when I wept. There were moments of sadness, like when I realized our house wouldn’t be decorated outside and hers would, because he had always done the outside decorations. He did nothing for us; everything was about her and her kids. Or when I felt sure I was going to be alone forever and he, a complete and total anti-social fuck up had someone new already. Or finding out how deep his betrayal had run- all the lies about the money being sent to his mom, phones being purchased for her, a joint bank account with the whore and the rest of his stock cashed in and given to her.

Him losing his job and forcing us to move was devastating, but I can’t say it was hurtful. It was yet another blow and another shit sundae I was forced to eat while he was off doing whatever the fuck he wanted. You know how that makes me feel? Angry!

Everything that has happened since June 10th, 2016 has enraged me. Forcing us out of our home, leaving me to be the one to tell our kids that we were going to have to move again, a mere two years later, having to sell off all of my belongings, moving in with my mom and sleeping on the couch, having to watch Rock Star cry as she realized she wouldn’t be getting her license on time, watching Rock Star struggle at school, working two jobs and still barely able to afford much of anything, stocking shelves at Target, getting up at 1:30, 2:30 and 3:30 in the morning to go to work, not being able to support myself, watching my kids suffer, wondering if he was going to get away with everything and not have to pay squat in support, hearing all the lies he and his family have spread about me, losing time with my kids, always being tired and feeling like a failure at this mom gig, learning about all the money those two nitwits spent while my kids and I lived like paupers. It was infuriating, but not hurtful.

The reality is, at least the second time around, I lost every bit of feeling I ever had for him the moment I discovered what he was up to. He didn’t hurt me; he disgusted me.

I have a visceral reaction to this idea that I write the things I do because I’m hurt. Nope. I write the things I do because I’m pissed off when I think about all the hell that asshole put me through. I write the things I do because I hope that someone who has just discovered a cheating spouse will come across my blog and read my story and not make the same stupid mistakes that I did. I hope they will see the futility in it and that they will do the sane thing and get the fuck out. I hope those that choose to stay will read my story and be able to discern the difference between being truly sorry and wanting to avoid any painful consequences. That when their spouse tries to blame them for the affair, or refuses to tell them the truth when asked for it, or when they want to avoid the topic of the affair, that they can say, “This is unacceptable. We’re doing it my way or you’re getting the fuck out because I’m not dealing with your shit.”

Hurt has never been a part of my story. I’ve been sad, I’ve been despondent and suicidal, and I’ve been angry, pissed, enraged… pick your adjective. This past year I’ve been hopeful and very, very happy. Yet I don’t think there will ever come a day when I just shrug at his antics. I don’t think I will ever get to the point where I am not pissed off about everything he put us through and everything he took from us. He changed the course of our lives; he changed our destinies and altered our futures. There is so much that he took, so much that he altered. I have hope for my kids that they will be able to forge a new future, despite what their father has chosen to do to them, and yet I still feel the very real pain of everything they’ve lost. This is not the life I would have chosen for them and I will always regret the things they missed out on, no matter how the future plays out. I do not hurt when I look at the ruins of our lives, but I do mourn.

Getting Through the Anti-versaries

May 2015

Nothing much to say, I suppose.  I could make stuff up.  I got my hair done today.  We’re replacing the air conditioning unit and getting a new humidifier.  Hooray for that!  Now maybe I won’t shock myself next winter!

Yesterday marked the 2 year anti-versry of Zack “confessing” to texting various women.  Actually, it marks the 2 year anti-versary of him being forced to admit he had been texting Harley.

It’s strange how our lives coincide.  My wedding anniversary is in December.  Her wedding anniversary is in December.  My birthday is the same day of the month as her wedding anniversary.  My birthday is at the end of one month.  Her birthday is the end of the following month.  I met Zack at the beginning of May; their affair began right around the same time that our relationship started.  He asked me to marry him on May 7th.  He told his nephew he was going to marry her on May 9th.  He half-heartedly confessed his affair on May 11th.

It takes a lot to stay focused during Mother’s Day, Father’s Day and all summer, basically, because that’s when it all began.  April through August I have to try to disregard any notice of the significance.  Hell, the day after our daughter’s birthday is the day the bitch basically said:  I’m fucking your husband!  And then I can relax until October, which is when I discovered him telling his nephew he was going to marry his whore.  Then I have about another month before our anniversary comes up and I deal with all sorts of triggers with that.  I’m hoping that this year all is good.

I do want to get to that point where we celebrate our anniversary as a victory.  A celebration of all the years of our marriage, not just the blissfully happy ones.  I want to be happy.  I want to be content.  I see some of these women on blogs who are so angry years later and I don’t want to be that.  If the affair is still causing you significant pain and unhappiness 3, 4, 5 years later (in some cases even more), then maybe it’s time to move on.  For my part I don’t read the infidelity blogs much anymore.  I deliberately pass right over them most days.  It helps, I’m sure, that so many of my favorites don’t write much anymore.  That’s the rub.  They write to heal and once they’re healed there is no need to write…

I feel like I have mostly let go of it.  Today I even gave thought to wishing him a happy anniversary on FB this year. I don’t know if that will happen or not but I consider it progress.

Obviously, I am in a situation where the OW won’t go away and die but I try not to think about her too much.  I think about her affair with my husband even less.  I am trying to keep the crazy hidden and look on the positive side.  It doesn’t always work but I am trying and that should count for something.

I guess I’m done for today.  Or for now.

Present Day Sam Says: I feel compelled to point out that when he originally confessed to texting with various women he really was texting various women. He was a male whore. A serial sexter!

I find it sad how much I wanted to believe the lies I was telling myself. It’s going to get better. We’re going to get through this. I need to trust him. I’m evolving. I’m thinking of it less and less. I’m making progress.

You know, marriage shouldn’t be that hard. You shouldn’t be dealing with all that crap. If you are, your marriage is probably already over. Call it! Time of death- May 2015.

 

And So It Begins…

April 2015

I am freaking out!  But first… I saw this on Pastor Fake’s FB page:  If you’re having sex and you’re not married it’s not called dating it’s called fornication. I had to laugh because Jezebel has had at least 3 affairs. Zack and Harley had an emotional affair and were planning on getting married.  And pretty much everyone in that family has gotten pregnant before getting married!  Holy crap balls!  I don’t care either way.  I’m not against premarital sex.  But really?  You’re going to make this statement and then not follow through in any way, shape or form?

So back to my freakout… as you know I’ve been trying to reconcile the posts where Harley has been liking things on my in-laws’ page.  Trying to tell myself they’re no longer in contact.  Nothing fishy is going on. Well, Tammy Faye is in the hospital again and Zack just informed me this morning that he’s planning on going to his home state to see her this weekend.  He’s staying at a hotel about 30 minutes from the whore’s town, aka Whore Town. Not to mention, since I know the whore contacts my mother-in-law it’s not unforeseen that she could come to the hospital and run into Zack. So, right now I’m trying not to freak out.  I’m telling myself that nothing is going on and that regardless, I can’t stop him.  I am not in control.  If he wants to cheat on me, he will.  There is nothing I can do to stop it.  If he wants her instead of me and his kids, then he will not be deterred from getting her. I hate this! I’m not ready to completely trust him. Especially when he’s been like he has been lately- PTSD, anxiety ridden, telling everyone I hate him. Who knows what all he’ll tell his sister when he sees her?  And of course she’ll believe everything he tells her.

I’m back.  Had my doctor’s appointment and went to meet Zack for lunch.  We had a good time.

You know, the fact is I have to trust him at some point.  I’m thinking back to an article I read just the other day where they talk about reluctance to trust because as the old saying goes:  Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.  It’s hard to be vulnerable again.  And there is a newness to it now.  I never believed he would cheat before.  I didn’t feel vulnerable because I didn’t think I ever had to worry about that.  Now I know it’s a possibility and I do feel vulnerable.

He’s being very loving.  Complimenting me a lot.  If I had to place a bet I would place it on the side of him not still being in an affair with her.  Or anyone else, I suppose.  I have to let go.  I have to trust.  And I need to be honest with him and tell him what I need.  I need him to check in with me.  I need him to tell me what’s going on down there.  I need him to let me know who he sees and who he talks to.

Present Day Sam Says: I fully believe now that he was planning on meeting up with Harley this weekend. I don’t know what made him turn around. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe he didn’t have the courage to go through with it quite yet. But he refused to take the kids with him and that was a huge red flag when he went to the funeral a few months later.

In the end, he did come home. Hooray for me. Needless to say I didn’t need to start trusting him because he turned out to be a big fat lying liar who lies. All the while I’m trying to convince myself I need to trust him he was undoubtedly messing around with the whore again.

Things Left Unsaid That Should Have Been Said

March 2015

What do I wish I could say to him?  I don’t know if I can even get it all out.  I think I’d start with this:  You aren’t the only one whose mind races with bad thoughts, or has bad days or wants to stop living.  How do you think it feels knowing that you told your sister, everyone who would listen probably, how awful I was, how unhappy I made you, and then turned around and gushed over how happy Harley made you, how you loved her, she was your soul mate?  Do you know what’s it like to know that you will never gush over me like that to anyone?  You only tell them how awful I am, how I hate you, and how I’ve neglected you.  Do you have any idea what kind of trigger you talking about being happy is for me?  I really think she is your true love, Zack.  In the 3 1/2 months you were messing around with her you never needed to be put into a psych ward, you never had an anxiety attack, you weren’t depressed.  You say you realized back in June that it was me you loved and wanted but you kept up with her.  You couldn’t let her go and you never once felt bad about it.  You weren’t wracked with guilt.  You weren’t short tempered or anxiety ridden about your double life or your lies.  You were HAPPY!  And ever since you’ve ended it you’ve been a mess.  So really, why did you stay?  I gave you an out.  I’ve given you several opportunities since then to tell me you made a mistake, that you stayed for honor and duty but that you love her.  You won’t take them but you continue to be miserable with me.  You continue to throw me under the bus to your sister and to anyone who will listen.  You never defend me.  You never talk about how much you love me.  Only what I’m doing wrong, or not doing at all.

Do you know what it did to me when I read you telling your sister that you never should have tried to be happy?  I’m right back there on the day I found out about the two of you.  I’m right back there to the day you sent me the text “that ended it” which was her text to you, and I’m left wondering, why, if you had already ended it, was she texting you this drivel?  Why did it seem like she was calling it off?  I read your happy remark and immediately I began to think, “See, he never wanted to choose you?  He always wanted her.  You were an obligation, a duty.  You were the barrier between him and his kids.  He didn’t want to leave them so he stayed with you. She’s the one that made him happy. She’s the one he loves. He’ll never be happy as long as he’s with you.”

Do you have any idea how devastated I’ve felt since December 26th when I found your text to your sister, basically throwing me under the bus instead of taking up for me?  Our anniversary is tough enough to deal with, but to have that on top of it.  And then I’m supposed to nurse you through your depression and suicidal spiral? Which was essentially brought on by your damn sister, your nosy “best friend”, and your own guilt, as opposed to anything I did?  You keep piling it on and I’m supposed to keep shoveling, all the while with a smile on my face.

Do you know what it was like to see you telling Jezebel outright lies about me?  I don’t hate you.  That was your own guilt eating you alive.  How dare you insist that I say those exact words:  I forgive you.  You don’t think working on this marriage shows forgiveness?  You don’t think never threatening divorce shows forgiveness?  You don’t think moving 2000 miles across the country (when I know that you and Harley plotted to have you move closer) doesn’t show forgiveness and a willingness to move forward? And hell, when we get right down to it I did finally say those exact words to you.  I said them in the psych ward when you were crying and convinced I was leaving.

I never said you were annoying me and wasting my time.  I never said it.  Not when you were in the hospital, not when you were out of the hospital.  Never.  Outright lie. And furthermore, you were not dying.  They don’t observe people in the ER for hours on end if they’re dying.  You weren’t there 2 1/2 days.  You went to the ER around 8 on Friday.  You didn’t get admitted to the hospital until 1 or 2 on Saturday morning.  You stayed all day Saturday and left Sunday mid morning.  Even if you count the time at the ER you were there just over 36 hours.  As long as we’re getting the facts straight, let’s get them all straight.  Furthermore, who called the damn doctor to begin with?  Oh, that’s right.  It was me!  I called when you were on day 3 of puking and diarrhea.  Me.  I called and let them know something had been going around the plant and usually lasted 24-48 hours and that you were going on day 3 of this.  What should I do?  I was the one that took you into the doctor’s office to get you checked out.  Even there the doctor gave you the option of going into the ER.  Said he probably would in your situation but that it was up to you.  They don’t do that when you’re dying.  And after you’d been in the ER for a few hours the doctor came in and said your potassium levels were still a little low so they could hold you over night and admit you, or you could go home.  Again, not something they do if you’re dying.  And who was it that suggested you stay because otherwise you’d be riddled with anxiety that you were dying?  Me!  I did.  I said stay here at the hospital where they can take care of you and if you start to get worse you’re already here.  You know you’ll just worry yourself to death if you come home. Yes, the horrible evil bitch that cares nothing for you and thinks you’re wasting her time was the one that called the doctor and suggested you be admitted to the hospital.  What a bitch!

The only thing that was accurate was the fact that I have an alternate FB page.  But, I love how you told her to go look on there and she would be shocked about what all I was saying about her little brother.  I counted the entries from Nov. 1- Feb. 10.  This was last night so I may be off by 1 or 2, but I do believe the final tally was 27 entries that had very little to nothing to do with Zack, and if they did mention him they weren’t tearing him down, and 7 or 8 entries where I talked about our relationship, or him and Jezebel.  I was extremely pissed when I read the text and I know that post was not nice.  It wasn’t supposed to be.  So, yes, over the course of 3 months I said less than complimentary things about him or our marriage 7 or 8 times.  Keep in mind, this covered the month of December, which is already triggered by our anniversary, and had the added bonus of him throwing me under the bus to his sister.  And frankly, as I said yesterday, if the worst thing I do is vent on a fake FB page with the name Harley X I would say they both got off pretty goddamn easy!

By the way, I’m going back through all my entries and I’m tallying up all the times I bitched about him, or our relationship, vs. anything else.  I’m categorizing them, which seems a little OCD, I know, but I want to know.  Everyone has turned this into some big bitchfest where I’m taking Zack down, but I have a feeling the reality is that very little of it is actually about him or our relationship.  So much of it has been about wrapping my mind around the actions of my in-laws, or displaying pictures of Harley, or mocking her and the stupid things she likes or has done.  It’s been showing the relationship between her and my in-laws.  There have been some memes and some quotes.  I would say maybe a quarter of it has been taken up with us, and very rarely have I ranted solely about him.  His interactions with Jezebel are the only time I remember offhand really going off on him. And you know what?  I find it amazing that this has somehow turned into being all about Zack.  It’s not.  It’s about me.  It’s about what I’m going through, what I’m feeling.  I was the one that was cheated on, not him.  He cheated.  I was betrayed. I’m not sure how it is that I’m the one with the power to hurt him with my feelings.  I can understand if he had a private FB page or blog where he talked about his own feelings and how much he missed and loved Harley.  That would definitely hurt.  But reading about your wife being hurt by her in-laws preferring your whore over your wife?  Why would that hurt him? And now I’m off track…

I would love it if just for once you could put me first.  If you could stick up for me.  If you would tell everyone who would listen about how much you love me and how wonderful I am (if indeed you feel I am wonderful).  I wish you would be honest about your feelings about Harley.  I wish you would just tell me if you want to be with her and you regret choosing me.  I wish you would get better.  I wish I could make you happy.  I wish we could laugh and do fun things together.  I wish things could go back to the way they were with your family, but I know that will never happen. And I miss that.  I really do.  I’m sorry my kids won’t have more of a relationship with them but I can’t do it anymore.  I can’t drive them there and then stay a weekend or a week with them. I will not get sucked in.  I am not safe around those people; they do not have my best interests at heart.  They are much more invested in your whore. I won’t leave my kids with them because I don’t trust that they will abide by my direct order to keep Jezebel away from my kids.

I guess to close I would just say this:  If I ever find out you’ve been discussing our marital issues with your sister again, she won’t just be comforting you because I’m soooo mean.  She’ll be comforting you through your divorce. I will pack up my stuff and my kids’ stuff and I will leave.  And let’s face it.  She couldn’t manage to make it out here when you were committed to a psych ward.  She’s not going to be around everyday when you’re whining about missing your kids, or bemoaning the destruction of your marriage.  More than likely, she figures you’ll be coming home every weekend to fuck Harley so it shouldn’t be an issue.  If that doesn’t work out though you’re going to be one lonely guy because Jezebel won’t be around.

They say that the second year is the hardest and boy has it been! I think maybe it’s because that first year you’re just trying to get through it.  You finally come out the other end and then you have time to think and reflect and really examine all that happened.  The second year is definitely shaping up to be the hard one.

Present Day Sam Says: Even though the title is Things Left Unsaid That Should Have Been Said the fact of the matter is it probably wouldn’t have mattered. Said, unsaid… nothing would have changed. I think by this point, bolstered by Blockhead, Tammy Faye and Jezebel, he was already making his exit strategy. Nothing I said or did would have changed anything.

Advice From the Mistress Concludes

Thankfully we now come to the final few nuggets of wisdom the professional yet reformed mistress has to offer us.

10. Time Management – Never make the ‘kids your life.’ All you will do is alienate your husband. Try to manage your time wisely so that when your husband comes home you have time for him. Couples that don’t eat together, or spend the evenings together, generally grow apart. Don’t allow your husband to become distant or lonely, or a space will be created for another woman to walk into his life.

Spoken like a woman who has no children. When your children are younger they should be your life. They are completely dependent upon you. I will make no apologies for putting my kids first and taking care of them. It’s a short season in your life. Suck it up, buttercup.

I know this is going to sound crazy but maybe, just maybe, if the husband actually pitched in and helped, the wife wouldn’t always be accused of making the kids her life. When you are the only one who takes them to school or practice and the only one who picks them up… When you are the only one to make their lunches, sign their permission slips, go to parent-teacher conferences, meet with teachers, and go to their programs… When you are the only one who will take them to the movies, on vacation, to the mall, out shopping, out to eat, or on any outing… it gets exhausting and then you’re accused of putting the kids first and neglecting the marriage. Most of this shit needs to get done and if Hubby is sitting around waiting for you to draw his bath for him and pop grapes into his mouth then that leaves only one person to do all of it. You can’t complain that she never has time for you if you’re not willing to help out with your shared children.

I can assure everyone that not once did CF grab his car keys and announce he was going to pick Rock Star up from gymnastics. I did not then spring up from the couch, knock him down the stairs in my quest to grab my own keys, and yell triumphantly on my way out the door, “Not on my watch, sucker!” I also never threatened him with bodily harm if he ever attempted to come into the kitchen and cook a meal for us. Never once did I lock myself in a room with my children, declaring with just a tinge of crazy as he banged on the door and pleaded with me to let him in, “I will never allow you to get up in the middle of the night with my children! NEVER! I’m the only one that is allowed to be woken up in the middle of the night. Do you hear me? Do you?” I also never threw my body in the path of his car in an effort to block him from leaving the house with our two kids to give me an hour or two alone. I never grabbed a laundry basket out of his hands and snarled, “WTF do you think you’re doing with that? I’m the only one that does laundry around this house! Stay out of the laundry room!” I never knocked him out of the way in order to run out and grab something for all of us to eat. “You’ve gotta be pretty fast to get one over on me!” I never tore the house apart after he’d cleaned it, screaming about how no one was going to clean this house except for me. Never told him I didn’t want him going to parent-teacher conferences with me because he would just get in the way. Never told him he wasn’t allowed to take the kids out to dinner. I would have welcomed the help. But it turns out all of those things were my job and he was busy doing other stuff (or people). I guess I needed better time management skills.

Here’s another thing that’s going to sound crazy. I actually agree with her when she says that when you don’t eat together or spend evenings together you will gradually grow apart. I saw it happen in my own marriage. But here’s the rub. It wasn’t solely on me. He played a huge part in that dynamic. He wanted to watch TV and he didn’t want to be bothered by young kids making noise while he was trying to watch something. Leaving those two alone so that I could sit by his feet and gaze adoringly up at him would have resulted in utter chaos. They were 2 and 4 at that time, for crying out loud! Maybe 3 and 5. My children are delightful these days, but in their early years… Let me just say I have been told more than once that I have the patience of Job and that if they had been born to any other person they probably wouldn’t have survived.

I gave him what he wanted. Peace and quiet. The ability to eat his dinner and watch television with no interruptions.  Then he complained because he got what he wanted.

When we moved across the country the first time he began shutting himself up in the bedroom. That was his doing, not mine. He was always asked if he wanted to go with us whenever we went somewhere. He usually declined. I had to resort to getting my daughter to ask him if he’d join us. He’s the one that kicked me out our bedroom for years, complaining that my snoring kept him awake.

This was not a situation where I was the frigid, neglectful wife who treated him like he was disposable. This was him shutting himself off from the rest of the family.

Yes, ladies, all the childcare is your responsibility but please try to get all of that taken care of while your husband is away. Time management! Once he gets home he should be your entire focus. Please train your children to never need anything from you once your husband gets home. Also, please speak to all coaches and school administrators so that they never plan anything outside of your husband’s work hours because that, too, will take away from your husband. Your husband must never be neglected. Again, spoken like a woman who never had children and could concentrate all of her energies on the married man she was fucking.

11. Cooking – Be sure to spend less time in the kitchen and more time in the bedroom, as the way to a man’s heart is NOT through his stomach, it’s actually more South of his waistband! A nice hot meal need not take hours so don’t ever slave over a hot stove. Be adventurous in the kitchen, but even more so in the bedroom.

Oh my dear Lord! Let me make sure I have this correctly. I’m to make a hot meal. But it needs to be a simple, hot meal because anything that takes more than five or ten minutes will cause him to cheat. I call foul, Sarah! I used my crockpot all the time! So why did he cheat on me? I have checked off all the boxes. Hot meal? Check! Not spending hours in the kitchen? Check! Delicious goodness? Double check.

And don’t even get me started on adventurous in the bedroom. Suffice to say, dear sweet stupid Sarah, your advice is about as good as your morals.

12. Keep your own identity – NEVER be a doormat for your husband. Be a strong woman, and let him know that if he ever mistreats you, or cheats on you, you will not put up with it. Teach him to make sure he respects you, and that he will lose you if he strays. Also, have your own life and interests, so that you are not just ‘a wife.’ Otherwise you will have nothing to ever tell him or surprise him with. You should be willing to work for a relationship, but never suffer for it.

Ahem… oh, Sarah? You’ve just spent this entire list telling us to do things we don’t necessarily want to do. You’ve told us our husbands are the most important thing in our life and they should be put ahead of our needs and the needs of our minor children. You’ve spent 11 talking points telling us to not get fat, to stay sexy, to fuck his brains out and to do and be whatever he desires. So how is it that none of that shit results in us being a doormat? You’re giving the very blueprint of being a doormat and then saying, “Don’t be a doormat!”

How are any of us to be a strong woman or to assert our boundaries when you’ve spent this entire “lesson” teaching us to be perfect little props for the important man in our life?

It’s a little difficult to tell your spouse that you won’t tolerate cheating and to demand respect when everything you’ve advised us to do so far puts us completely at his mercy. If he’s been taught that he’s #1 and the most important thing ever to exist then why would he ever believe that we would leave if he cheats?

Oh, and newsflash, Sarah! Many women DID tell their husbands cheating would be a deal breaker. That’s why they’re divorced now. And why do you think people lie and gaslight and do their best to keep it a secret? They KNOW it’s wrong. In some cases I’m sure they know their spouse will leave when she finds out.

How am I supposed to have my own interests and my own life when I’m supposed to be catering to him 24/7? You seem to be very worried that I will have nothing to “tell him or surprise him with” but I thought my problems and my life weren’t of any consequence and that everything was supposed to be about him and his day.

I think Sarah’s advice highlights the problem some have between fantasy and reality. It gives voice to those people (cheating men and women alike) that really believe marriage should be exciting and fun all the time and that they should have every need met instantaneously. If they don’t, then they are entitled to cheat.

This advice thrives on fantasy. How many women can honestly say they could do everything that good ol’ Sarah advises us to do? I’m exhausted just reading that list. It’s one demand after another and there doesn’t seem to be any give and take.

Let me be clear, lest I’m accused of being a man hater, I think that much of what she talks about here is fine if it’s done occasionally. I think it’s great when couples can do some of the things on this list. I have no problem with sending a flirty message to your husband. I am a very physical person myself so touching someone, holding their hand, rubbing their back, is something that I would do naturally. I’m not opposed to throwing on some eyeliner and wearing a cute outfit. I think it’s important to not lose yourselves as a couple in your quest to raise children. Keep the romance alive! If you’ve got a chance to spend some time alone as a couple then go for it. But I also think both people need to be participants. And I think that when one person believes that they are entitled to all of the things on the above list then you’ve got some major problems. Regular, real, day-to-day life doesn’t work that way. You might be able to do some of this all of the time. You might be able to do all of it some of the time. But I don’t see how anyone who has actual obligations and responsibilities can do all of it all of the time. Then again, affairs thrive on fantasy and most affair partners don’t see each other every single day. Most affairs also don’t last more than six months so there’s the whole “they can do all of it some of the time.”

I liken her advice to the difference between every day life and taking a vacation. Sarah seems to think that relationships should be like being on vacation every day. You should always be lounging on the beach and sipping cocktails brought to you by smiling servers. You should always be free to wander aimlessly all day long if that’s what you choose to do, or embark on some exciting adventure. You should indulge every day- eating every meal out and not having to worry about cooking or dishes or doing laundry. You should be able to sleep in every day and go to bed whenever you’d like. It should always be one exciting choice after another- cruise this week, skiing next week, a trip out of the country the week after that. Fun, fun, fun with absolutely no responsibilities.

I’ll say it one more time so that I’m not misunderstood (although I’m sure I’ll be accused by someone of being a man-hating, relationship deficient bitter bitch): I think trying to do some of the things good ol’ Sarah suggests is a good thing. By all means, look your best. Talk to your husband. Spend some time with him without the kids around. Surprise him with something fun and/or sexy. Talk to him. Have sex with him. Maybe wear something a little risqué once in a while. Go out and have fun together.

Where her advice falls flat is in the fact that she believes this should be the ordinary. This should be every day life; it’s where the bar is set. I believe those things are “vacation ideas” if you will. I don’t think anyone can live up to all of that every single day. As I said earlier I’m exhausted just reading the list.

The other problem I see with it is there is no talk of equal reciprocation.We women are only as useful as our ability to satisfy our man. Our lives are all about pleasing him. There is nothing about him pleasing us. I guess our big reward is that our husband won’t cheat on us. Because Sarah thinks cheating is a relationship problem.

Honestly, if this is what all I have to do in order to keep a man and have a relationship I’m not interested.

Advice From the Mistress, Part 3

Ready for round three? Let’s begin.

7. Stroke his ego, and other parts – Men want to feel like men. They want to feel needed and wanted. Tell him how much you appreciate him, especially when he does something nice. Let him know you respect him as a man. And touch him. Be tactile with him.

1. Maybe men (these men you’re writing about, whoever they might be) would be treated like men if they didn’t act like entitled 2 year olds.

2. I would find it easier to respect him as a man if he weren’t fucking around on me. I’m pretty sure I speak for the majority of women when I say it’s pretty difficult to respect your cheating husband.

Come on, Sarah, you’re treating men like they’re idiots. No, you treat them like fragile crystal. Or a scared kitten.

Come here, kitty… let me love you. I’ve got a warm house and a soft blanket and plenty of yummy food. Come here, you sweet little bundle of fur. I won’t hurt you. You’re such a pretty kitty. Oh yes you are! You’re so so pretty! Let me pet you and hold you. Oh that’s it. You’re so soft. Do you like it when I scratch your ears? How about under your chin? Oh, you really like that! Yes, you do! Yes, you do! You are such a pretty kitty! I’m going to love you forever and never let you go!

I don’t have a problem with letting someone know I appreciate what they’ve done. I’ve never had a problem saying, “Thank you.”  I’m not talking about being dismissive of someone or treating them like they owe you. I think I’m a pretty kind person. I think I show a lot of love and affection and that I express appreciation. You, however, are ridiculous. And exhausting. My God, it’s a constant cycle of being “on” and having to cater to his ego. If “your man” needs this much ego stroking I can’t imagine you have too much of a relationship. He sounds like a giant baby. It, in fact, reminds me of coaching my own children.

Be gentle, honey; pet the doggy softly. No, no! We read books; we don’t throw them in the toilet. I’m so proud of you for not getting in trouble at school today!  Thank you for doing the dishes. Hey, great job getting up this morning and getting ready for school all on your own. I really liked the way you didn’t call your brother an asshole today. Thank you for unclogging the toilet without having to be told.

It also reminds me of CF telling me he wanted me to come watch him mow the yard. He wanted me to follow him with my eyes, and maybe fetch him a cool refreshing drink. He wanted me to just touch him as I passed by. Guess what, Sarah? I did all those things for the giant man baby. He’s living with and fucking his cousin now.

Was I faithful because he did all of these things you’re telling us wives to do? Hell, do they even need to do any of these things? You never talk about any give and take in relationships; it’s all about what women need to do to hang on to their man. So I apologize for being a bit unclear.

Ultimately though, no, I wasn’t faithful because he did all those things. Oh sure, occasionally he would pick me up a candy bar from the gas station. He would thank me for making dinner. Towards the end he would tell me I was sexy or beautiful or amazing. I got about 16 months of that. Mostly he kicked me out of the bed, didn’t want to hold my hand, and closed himself off in the bedroom. I was faithful because I have a moral compass. I was faithful because I’m loyal until the end. I was faithful because I took my vows seriously. I was faithful because that’s just who I am.

I say again: You do not control another person’s behavior. Not by what you do. Not by what you don’t do.

8. Be Sexy – Even if you sit around in your sweatpants all day, be sure to change just before he comes home from work into something sexier. Oh and remember to shave those legs, and other parts.

Yes, because there’s nothing I love more than donning high heels and cleaning toilets! Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I can clean the toilets in comfort; I just need to make sure I hop right up before he gets home so that I can shower and shave and look like some sort of sex goddess. Because otherwise he’ll cheat.

You sound like the 1950s Home Ec book that made its rounds: Put a fresh ribbon in your hair. Lightly spray perfume.

Because once again we are nothing more than the man’s adoring audience.

The kids are killing one another? Oops! Sorry, kids, Daddy’s on his way home. Mommy’s got to put on her mini skirt and high heels so that Daddy feels like a real man when he gets home. If Mommy isn’t sexy enough Daddy will leave her and you’ll grow up being bounced back and forth between two homes.

You’ve spent twelve hours with a screaming, colicky baby? Just put that baby down, apply some make-up, put on your best slut clothes and get ready to dazzle!

You’ve got one kid who needs to be transported to karate and one that needs to be picked up from piano. You’re in the middle of making dinner, one of your kid’s teachers just called, and you forgot to grab the dry cleaning and it closes in fifteen minutes. Don’t worry about any of that. Chuck all your responsibilities and put on something pretty. Leopard print is preferable.

You know what I want, Sarah? I want a man who thinks I look sexy even when I am wearing sweats. I want a man who can appreciate the fact that I’m making dinner, juggling schedules, and keeping everything going and yet still look up from what I’m doing and say, “Hi, baby! How was your day?”

See? I’m not a total bitch. I have no problem with doing things for others. Hell, I did EVERYTHING for the man I married. He still cheated. Because whatever it was that I did it was never enough.

I oppose this idea that by ignoring all of our wants and needs, and that by doing things we don’t feel like doing, we will somehow have this perfect relationship with a man who would never dream of cheating… if we can just dance pretty enough for him.

9. Ambiance – Create an environment he will enjoy when he comes home. Focus on soft lighting, scented candles and gentle music playing. Maybe run a hot bath, or jump in a steamy shower with him. Have his favourite drink ready, or enjoy a glass of wine together. Hide the kid’s toys, and any other clutter.

I wish you could see me right now, Sarah, because I am rolling my eyes so hard I fear they might fall out of my head. I think, dear Sarah, that this is the main difference between a wife and a mistress.

As his mistress you never had children. You were a kept woman. You fucked rich, married, entitled men who would pay your rent, buy you pretty things and support you. Your “job”, if you will, was to please him at all times. You could set the stage. You could play your gentle music with your candlelight glowing and then enjoy a glass of wine together. You could jump in the shower with him. Because you had no other obligations.

And what in the hell is with this, “run a hot bath”? Are you seriously drawing a bath for a grown ass man because he can’t figure out how to run a faucet, or because he’s just so exhausted he doesn’t have time? Or is this one of those, “We’ll soak in the tub together because it’s so romantic and sexy,” moments? Dear Jesus I hope it’s the latter.

Let me tell you what would have happened if I had done that when my kids were little. The candles probably would have ended up knocked over and setting the house on fire. They would be wondering why we weren’t listening to The Disney Channel and running around like crazy. While we were soaping each other up in the shower, sipping our wine, they would be going crazy in the other room. If the house hadn’t caught on fire then there would be a mess of epic proportions. Guess who would get to clean that up? Of course it would be me. I’d lay 50-50 odds on whether or not my daughter would have tried to kill my son. And honestly? I would be amazed if we could even keep them out of the bathroom while we had our sexy time. They could pick locks. More than likely we would be treated to little hands pulling back the shower curtain and little voices asking, “What are you doing in here? When are you going to be done? Why are you taking a shower together? Can I have some of your drink? Why does his penis look like that? Are you done yet? I’m hungry. Picasso won’t stop touching me. Can I get in the shower with you? Rock Star hit me.”

 

Advice From the Mistress, Part 2

Get those vomit buckets ready, ladies. We’ve got more advice from the lovely Sarah.

4. Communicating and the art of communication – Flirt with him throughout the day either via text, email, phone etc (*Note: that’s what all Mistresses do with your husbands*). Be fun and fun loving. Don’t nag! Ultimately make him WANT to come home to you, not HAVE to come home to you.

I detest this one with the fire of a thousand suns. Probably because it reminds me of what CF wanted me to do. Because the whore did it. I will say again, so that I am very clear, I think it’s wonderful when couples communicate throughout the day. I think the random sexy message and flirty text is a great thing. You know what’s not great? Being pressured into doing this. Having the expectation that you will do this every day, all the time. Your partner not respecting your time and the fact that you may be busy doing other things. Someone acting like a fucking high school student with their phone connected to their hand at all times so they can constantly text one another.

I’ve got a job! I can’t be on my phone all day long. I guess if I ever venture back into the dating pool I am doomed to be cheated on again and again because I can’t sit around texting my boyfriend constantly. What in the hell did people do before cell phones? Before this idea that two people in a relationship need to be in constant contact all day long, every damn day? I don’t think wives were calling their husbands at work at

9 am: Thanks for that morning quickie. I can hardly wait until you get home.

10:15: I miss you.

10:45: It’s been so long since I’ve heard your voice. I want you! I’m going to do all sorts of naughty things to you when you walk in that door.

11:30: Whatchya doing?

12:15: I’m lifting up my shirt and showing my boobs to you. Can you see it now? Close your eyes and imagine it!

1:30: I’m so hot and horny for you! I don’t know if I can wait until you get home.

2:00: How’s your day been?

2:45: I just called to say I missed you.

How would they have managed to get any work done?

OF COURSE the mistresses all do this. It’s a hook. See? I’m sooooo much better than your wife. It’s also one of the only ways they can be with this married man throughout the day.

Furthermore, I’m not taking advice from a whore, especially not my husband’s whore. How dare he try to turn me into her? He should be worried about what he needs to do to keep me! (Too bad I didn’t have that attitude when I was still married and “reconciling” with CF.)

My shit eating chimp decided that a mistress that lived hours away was a good idea. Sexting and flirty messages were all they had for day to day communication. And my guess would be that if you’re going to have an affair sex is going to figure prominently in that situation. She’s not going to be texting him to tell him the toilet is backed up or one of the kids is in trouble at school. She’s going to be texting him to tell him how much she wants him, how handsome and sexy he is, and to tempt him with promises of more once they can finally be together. It’s all fantasies and no responsibilities.

The wife, on the other hand, has an actual life with him. The sink gets clogged and a plumber needs to be called. A child is doing poorly in school. The in-laws want to come out for Spring Break. She doesn’t have the luxury of pretending that there is nothing else in this world going on except the crotch tingles she feels for her husband. Fuck the kids! Fuck your parents! Fuck me NOW!

You might be able to get away with that occasionally but if you think that’s what’s going to happen all the time in a marriage then you’re going to find there are a lot of things that don’t get taken care of and your life is going to crumble all around you.

5. Be Intimate with your husband everyday – Preferably sex YES! But even if you don’t always feel like it, there are other things you can do. If you’re not sleeping with your husband, I guarantee someone else is! Even a hug and a kiss will be welcomed if you can’t go the whole way, but some form of intimacy is essential.

Basically, what you’re saying, Sarah, is that you need to put out because if you don’t your husband has such lack of control he will be compelled to go out and fuck some random stranger. Yeah, no. We don’t control anyone’s behavior except our own. (Okay, I will acknowledge there are some extremely co-dependent personalities that are undoubtedly at the mercy of their partner but I would like to think those people are few in number.)

I already talked about the woman who wrote a book on relationships, advising women to never refuse their husband sex because if you weren’t giving it up he’d find someone who would. Even with that mindset her husband still cheated on her. She now has an elementary aged stepchild.

I’ve already talked about the women who were stunned to find out their husbands were cheating because they had sex with them every day or every other day (I guess that one day on, one day off was just too much for the sex starved husband).

Really, what kind of a relationship is that? I know I’m sick, baby, but maybe we could do it doggy style in the bathroom. If you just let me lean over the toilet I can throw up while you’re riding me hard and you’ll never have to miss a beat.

What happens if I get cancer and I’m exhausted and nauseous from chemotherapy? I know several females who either are going through, or have gone through cancer treatment. Are the husbands justified in getting it elsewhere now? After all if the premise is you need to be intimate every day you can’t let a little thing like cancer and fighting for your life stop you from fucking your husband or being intimate in some other way. Those husbands can’t be expected to be faithful now that their wives are unable to perform, can they?

What if I’m in pain? Maybe I broke an arm or a leg, or I’m having back spasms. Just fuck through the pain? What if I have a stroke? Are you still going to love me then or will you cheat on me because I can’t have sex every day?

When you’re a mistress sex is always new and exciting. It’s not something you necessarily have an opportunity to do every day. After all he has to concoct a lie to tell his wife so that he can get away and be with the mistress. So obviously when the two of those nitwits get together they’re going to be having sex. It’s what their relationship is built on typically. Some may argue that the mistress is their very best friend and they have such a stimulating meeting of the minds. They might argue that she understands him, she “gets” him in a way that no one else does. But if you ask him if he would want to be with her if they could never have sex again I think we know what the answer would be. No, seriously. You trade in your wife for this woman who is the Great Understander. You can talk to her about anything and everything but you can never have sex with her. I don’t think most of these men would still say, “Sign me up! She stimulates my mind and that’s enough for me!”

And once again we’re back to the premise of this delightful school which is that women are nothing more than penis receptacles. Do things you don’t feel like doing, even when you have a very valid reason for not wanting to do it, because your husband demands it of you and if you don’t then you can’t expect him to be faithful.

I will also state again, just to be clear, that I’m not talking about someone who withholds sex forever. I don’t think that’s an excuse to cheat but I want to be clear I’m not trying to justify the wife who has just suddenly decided she never wants to have sex again. That’s one extreme. Dear Sarah is on the complete opposite extreme. Give it up all the time, every day, or you’re a bad wife.

6. Put more friendship in your romance – Lighten up on the romantic side of your marriage. See your man as your best friend as well as your lover. That way you can really be yourself and be relaxed around him, just as you are with good friends.

Excuse me, Sarah. I’m a little confused here. You’ve just given me a list of 5 things that I’m supposed to do that don’t acknowledge I’m an actual person. If I’m counting correctly I can expect 6 more tidbits of awesome advice that completely discount me as a real live person. Your advice up to this point has been all about NOT being myself. Your advice has been hyper focused on how I look and what I do to make “my man” feel like he’s just the greatest thing in the universe. I feel like you’re moving the goal posts here.

This one really made me laugh, though, because with all the emphasis on sex and looking hot and sexy up until this point and then switching gears into being best buds I was imaging actual friendships I have. I can only imagine the side glance J would give me if I sidled up behind her and grabbed her ass. Or if I texted my other friend to tell her how sexy she looked. She didn’t like me grinding up against her, dancing drunk back when we were in college. I can’t imagine she’d appreciate a little touchy feely now.

Let me make sure I have this right. Be at his beck and call, text him nonstop with messages about how handsome and sexy he is and how I’d like to blow him, fuck him every day, make sure I don’t get fat, but lighten up and have some fun! Be his buddy! And then fuck him again. No matter how tired you might be.

Oh Sarah, I can hardly wait to see what other nuggets of gold are awaiting us.

Advice From the Mistress, Part 1

Great news, ladies! A professional (reformed) mistress is going to tell us how to keep our husbands and act more like a mistress instead of a wife. I found this lovely bit of advice thanks to Chump Lady. I thought I’d take a stab at pointing out why it’s a load of shit. Gentlemen, I apologize that there is no advice for you here. If you ever come across a reformed other man who has thoughtfully given you advice on how to keep your wife I’ll be more than happy to dissect that for you.

First and foremost what she’s going to teach you at “Wife School” is how to act more like a mistress than a wife. I would advise having a bucket handy for when you feel the need to vomit because this is cringe worthy. She goes on to tell you this is the “official, simple 12-steps to Affair-Proofing your Marriage”!!!!  Ladies, we all know this is bullshit, right? There is no such thing as affair-proofing. Remember, cheating is a character issue, not a relationship issue. If you can’t get him to eat a damn turnip or go to a party with you then chances are not good that you are going to be able to control his wandering penis. Now that we’ve got that settled…

  1. Be the woman he married – He married you for a reason, he loves you, so be sure you don’t change into a different woman as soon as you’ve eaten the wedding cake!

Um… excuse me, but if he loves me so much, why is he cheating on me? That’s my first question. Second question: What do you mean by “don’t turn into a different woman as soon as you’ve eaten the wedding cake”? Do you mean I should never evolve? Never gain a pound for fear he won’t want me anymore? Do you mean that if I once loved watching some home improvement shows on whatever channel they appeared that I must always like watching them? Or do you mean that I shouldn’t present myself as a put together person who does laundry, washes dishes, cooks and is able to take responsibility for my own self but once I get married I can suddenly no longer put a frozen pizza in the oven, never even bother with putting my washed and folded clothes away, and wouldn’t dream of doing the dishes now since I’m married, make more money, and housework is the spouse’s job?

Hey! That describes CF. Throw in being willing to go places and socialize with people until after the wedding and it’s him to a T. Why didn’t I cheat, Sarah?

2. Keep your appearance in check – Don’t pile on the weight after you get ‘comfortable’ with him, nor let your dress sense go. Looking good will help YOU feel better, as well as making sure your husband only has eyes for you.

Oh Sarah… silly, silly Sarah. You have to know that a woman has more to offer her partner than a rocking hot body dressed in skimpy clothing, right?

I rarely wore sweatpants. I sometimes wore yoga pants. But mostly I wore jeans. I did a lot of cleaning and a lot of laundry. I cleaned out guinea pig cages and cat litter boxes. Was I supposed to wear a short, tight skirt and a bustier to do that? I can see it now: I’m giving CF a come hither smile as I greet him at the door, sauntering over to him as I toss my hair back and pluck an errant wood chip out of my crystal studded bustier. “Welcome home, lover boy! I’ve missed you!”

In fact I recall my mom handing off a brown knit ensemble which I wore more than once. One day he turned to me and said something to the effect of: Why are you wearing that? It makes you look like an old lady. I’m pretty sure we were in the car at the time. I do know I promptly went and changed clothes. I also never wore that again.

I did tend to wear make-up every day. Not heavy make-up. Not everything from foundation down to powder every day but at least eyeliner and sometimes lipstick. When he complained that I never wore make-up anymore and/or always put my hair up in a ponytail or bun I made a concentrated effort to pay attention to my make-up and to leave my hair down. Hair, by the way, that I kept long because he liked it long. If that meant I had spent the day cleaning the house or cleaning up after pets then I made sure to stop 30 minutes or so before he was supposed to get home so that I could do my hair and make-up for him.

Furthermore, dear stupid Sarah, I didn’t sit around on my ass all day. I was constantly doing stuff. You know what that means? I was out in public. I put on make-up. I did my hair. I wore jeans and a cute top.

He STILL cheated!

Finally, to your first point, thousands, if not millions, of women are overweight with faithful husbands. And thousands, let’s hope it’s not millions, of thin, beautiful women get cheated on. Do the names Jennifer Aniston, Christie Brinkley, Reese Witherspoon, Sandra Bullock, Jennifer Garner, Gwen Stefani, and Eva Longoria ring a bell? Maybe if they had taken better care of themselves…

3. Listen to him and be attentive – Be interested in him and how his day was. Stay up late to see him after he’s had a hard day at work, even if you are tired. Ask him how his day was, before unloading all your troubles (and not too many troubles!)

Dear Jesus! Seriously? Sarah, do you see women as people or as simply penis receptacles? I had no problem being interested in my husband’s day. I frequently asked him how his day was and listened attentively to all of his stories. I also was very cautious about unloading my own troubles on him because the poor baby couldn’t handle it. I was often told, “Only one of us can be crazy at one time and that one person is always me!” I handled damn near everything by myself, Sarah, so as not to burden the poor man. I still got cheated on.

Ladies, communicating with your husband is wonderful. Taking an interest in him is wonderful. But this idea perpetuates the fantasy that we are only here to fulfill their wants. Who cares if you’re dead tired? You’ve got a man to please! Hop to it! Surely you realize that if you really loved him and were invested in your relationship you wouldn’t use taking care of kids, making dinner, doing laundry, paying bills, cleaning house, buying the family birthday and Christmas gifts, arranging the social calendar, going grocery shopping, taking care of pets, and running kids around as an excuse as to why you’re so tired and in no mood to wait up for him. If you love him and you want to keep him you will exhaust yourself with a smile on your face!

Don’t burden him with your pesky problems. He doesn’t want to hear about that. He wants to talk about himself. He’s the important one in this relationship. Nothing else matters besides him- not the kids, not parents/family, not responsibilities, and certainly not YOUR problems. Remember, YOU don’t matter.

I bet you can’t wait for Part 2!

More On Grieving the Affair Partner

October 2014

Yep, reading another blog. This one is by a cheating spouse. Says he’s remorseful but it seems like he spends most of his time grieving the loss of his affair partner. At one point he was asked if he had feelings for her and he replied that it was one of the most intense and exhilarating, I believe, relationships he had ever had. As his wife I would have been pissed and beyond hurt. I can truthfully say that if Zack actually ever felt that way about Harley he was smart enough to never admit it because let me tell you… If he had, I would have been outta here. If you’re so in love and heartbroken then just go to her. Let’s see if you miss me. Let’s see how you feel when she’s the only one you’ve got and there is no wife at home doing your laundry, cooking your meals, taking care of your children, taking care of you. Let’s see if she’s so wonderful when she’s the one having to do all of those things. When she’s cost you a relationship with your kids.

I will say Zack has made it seem like even though he told her he loved her he now realizes he never did. At one point he told me he thought he talked to her and shared with her the way he wanted to do with me. He referred to her as his midlife crisis. Even when I asked him, a little less than a month after D Day, if he missed her and he admitted he did, he was careful to say he missed talking to her and hearing about family. He tried to be clear it wasn’t her he missed so much as it was what she represented.

I am thankful for all of that. I honestly don’t think I could stay and try to work through things if he was pining for her and acting like she was his true love, his soul mate, the one that got away. I was sincere when I told him I deserved to have someone who loved me. And I would not want to live my life knowing I was second best, or that as much as my husband may profess to love me there was always that one person whom he loved even more.

Present Day Sam Says: Experience has jaded me. If you’re grieving your affair partner then you have no business being married. Leave your spouse, let him or her find someone worthy of them, and go roll around in the gutter with the immoral shithead who thinks it’s perfectly fine to fuck a married person.

Was This Another Sexting Buddy?

 

August 2014

Sonofabitch! I had a whole post and this stupid thing ate it!

There is a girl, or rather a woman, I suppose who works at the former plant and who continues to text Zack. I will call her Daniella for this Blast From the Past. On the surface if seems fairly innocent. I first saw texts from her when I went through his phone. She was talking about work and then veered off into her plans for the weekend, or maybe the holiday. At the time I was thinking there was no need for her to share that with him, and there was certainly no need for him to encourage her. I believe she mentioned something about going to a bbq and he responded, “Atta girl,” or something similar. I do remember thinking, “Oh hell no! There is no need for this.” But I feel awkward every time I go through his phone, like it’s proof I don’t trust him. I don’t want him to feel badly.

Then today he tells me she sent him a text that starts out, “This place sucks!” And pretty much bitching about how things are being done now. And again I’m thinking, “Oh hell no!” There is simply no reason for this.

The way I see it it’s about boundaries. You set boundaries so you don’t have to worry about seemingly innocent things- words, gestures, text messages- being taken the wrong way and leading to something else. That’s how it usually starts. She talks to him about work, she mentions her plans for the weekend. Oh that sounds like fun. Well, if you hadn’t moved 2000 miles away you could join me. Me? I’m a married man; my wife wouldn’t like that. Oh, I wouldn’t tell. I’m looking for something with no strings attached. And BOOM! He finds himself in divorce court, his kids hate him, and I move back to our old state, or possibly my home state. With the kids. Or, she complains about her personal life, he listens and gives advice, he complains about me, she sympathizes and assures him she would never be like that. They become one another’s confidant and before you know it they believe they’re madly in love and have found their true soul mate.

I suppose he gave me an opening. The next time he mentions Daniella I’m going to tell him I don’t approve. Or more to the point I do not like it. I may even bring it up before he mentions her again.

I think I’m a little bit crazy. I was just imaging our conversation and I went from rational to insane in about 30 seconds. This is my part in my imaginary conversation: Why is she still texting you? (We’re co-workers. It’s just about work.) You don’t work with her anymore. You’re no longer her boss. I’m sure if I had worked with a man out in our old city and he kept texting me you wouldn’t like it. (It’s no big deal. It’s about work!) No, it’s not; I’ve seen those texts. You were asking her about her weekend. Telling her Atta girl when she told you what she was up to. It’s none of your business what she does in her free time. Why do you even care? Hey, I’ve got an idea since you’re so concerned about her. Why don’t you get her a job at the plant out here and that way you can see her and watch over her every single day. Then you can start fucking her and then you can divorce my ass and you can listen to your precious little Daniella tell you all about every fucking move she makes every fucking second of the day!” See? I told you I was crazy.