I won’t rehash my story, it's in my bio. It’s sordid, and it’s bad, and the stuff I left out is even worse. And yet… I stayed. For 12 more years. To be there for the kids. So that I wouldn’t have to wake up alone on Christmas because it's not my year. For financial reasons. Because I loved my wife. Because I was afraid.
I don’t know why I stayed.
We settled. I settled. Dead bedroom, roommates, co-parents. We dealt with life; aging and dying parents, teenagers, Covid. And then… things got better. She got promoted, starting making a lot of money. Kids seemed to be thriving. She started Ozempic, lost over 100lbs. Even as a couple, things seemed to be better. We vacationed. We laughed. We made memories.
And yet…
She was traveling again, different job, different destination, but traveling again. I had no reason not to trust her, but I just didn’t feel right. "If things are good, and I feel bad, maybe I’m the problem?"
So I went to a therapist. "Talk to her," she said, "Tell her how you feel." Not a good idea, I tried to explain. She gets angry, she gets defensive. "No, no," the therapist insisted, "This is how you bond, how you build intimacy."
So I told her. I used "I statements", I didn’t accuse, I laid the burden of my feelings on myself. But I wanted her to know how I felt. So we could bond, and build intimacy. She got angry. She got defensive.
Six weeks later she asked me for a divorce. I said yes. What else was I going to say?
Two weeks after that, I discovered a remote control vibrator that she had been bringing on her trips, the kind that can be operated by anybody in the world, provided they had the link. I did not have the link. When confronted, she said it was so she could use the link using her phone, and not have to play with the buttons on the vibrator.
Two weeks after that, I discovered that she was on dating apps. "Only started after we agreed to divorce" she said.
Two weeks after that, New Years Eve (morning), she answers a text while we are lying in bed (we are still sleeping in the same bed), rolls over and says change of plans, I’m spending New Year’s with a guy (she) had met on the app. She doesn’t come home that night.
Two days later, we tell the kids (21, 18, and 15). Didn’t want to tell them before Christmas. She leaves that night, to spend the night with her "new" boyfriend. We don’t tell the kids that.
I got everything I wanted in the divorce. The kids are with me full time. I have the house, she pays me child support. We are doing well. But I feel stupid. Humiliated. We all know she was cheating on me again, though she will never admit it. I can’t talk to anybody, because I don’t want it to get back to her and ruin what is an amicable divorce. She gets angry and defensive after all. I tried therapy again, but I’ve been down this road. I know what to do. I work out. I journal. I spend time doing what I want to do. I am cheery, professional at work, I maintain my hobbies and friendships. I am a rock for my children. I remortgaged the house, handled the divorce paperwork, untangled all the mutual entanglements (she’s too busy, don’t you know). I have, if you’ll excuse my French, my shit together.
And yet… I feel like an idiot. I feel so humiliated. So embarrassed. I sit on the bathroom floor, sobbing, wallowing in self-pity. Not because the marriage is over, but because it happened AGAIN. I let it happen AGAIN. I was replaced, AGAIN. How can I be proud of myself, as a man? As a person? As somebody who should have had at least the tiniest bit of self-respect? What am I supposed to tell any potential future partner? My kids, if they ever find out? Most importantly, what do I tell myself?
I feel like an idiot.
[This message edited by Montreal at 10:53 PM, Thursday, May 29th]