Connections

Back in the days when I was having an affair, I remember reading an article that linked infidelity to divorce.  No surprise there, really.  It seems like a logical progression from wanting to fill in the gaps of a marriage that isn't quite working to seeing those gaps as a chasm that cannot be bridged.

The article went on to point out that the days of lengthy affairs are over.  Divorce has become so commonplace that much of the negative stigma surrounding it has washed away and once you have come to the conclusion that you much prefer the company of someone else, why stay married?

Of course it is not as simple as that.  Numbers say a lot but they don't say everything.  I don't doubt that most affairs lead to divorce.  Nor do I disagree with the idea that many marriages break down as a result of a third party muddying the waters.  After years of living in a daze, the attention of another can be enough to shake even the firmest foundations.

But is there another connection between affairs and divorce that isn't quite so obvious?  When you take away the affair, does the likelihood of divorce diminish? 



I am not about to step on a soapbox and begin a lecture on the perils of infidelity.  There are plenty of other blogs that do that and have done it far better than I ever could!  But my question is more along the lines of wondering if the resolve to escape from a frustrating marriage is weakened without someone else waiting in the wings.

My hypothesis comes from my own experience.  My affair ended nearly two years ago and as the communications tapered off, my determination to leave my husband seemed to fade too.  With two you children at home, I was resolute that I could make things work for a bit longer since I had nowhere to go and the Norman Rockwell images in my head of families together had me convinced that I was doing the best thing for everyone.

And so for a while, it worked.

But then life got in the way.  Life being some pretty fundamental stuff like the fact that I like living in England and my husband doesn't.  And that was just the beginning.  Even without someone on the side, I realised that sooner or later I would have to bite the bullet and tell my husband that I wasn't happy and I didn't see us growing old together.

So that is what I did.

I had hoped that he would agree with me that we are far too different to really be happy long-term and that it makes sense for us to think about separating.  But I was mistaken.  Despite the years of conflict, divorce was the last conceivable option in his mind. His philosophy was that I just needed to stop being so difficult and agree to pack up and move across the Atlantic.

In the months that have followed that initial discussion, he has tried various tactics to convince me that I am wrong in my thinking.  Sometimes he takes the harsh approach telling me that I am crazy and selfish.  But at other times he lauds me with praise and tells me that he has always valued me.  As I sit here typing away, it is easy to see that he's desperate to keep things together and will try any tactic to make that happen, but in the moment itself, it is much harder not to succumb. 

I do feel guilty.  I hate the idea of upsetting my children and even my husband, splitting apart the world that they know.  I am wise enough to know that I will never be happy with my husband but yet I still struggle to let go of the dream that I had when I walked down the aisle with him so many years ago.  I hate so much that this is happening and part of me is tempted to endure the frustration for just a little longer if it means peace for everyone else.

And there are times when I wish I had someone to wrap his arms around me and tell me it will work out fine, that whilst my husband is convinced that I am completely insane and horrid for wanting to get away, there could be someone who would be happy to tell me otherwise.  It would make it so much easier.  
 
And so I wonder if I am not alone in this state of limbo.   If there are others out there like me who want to escape but are not really sure where they are going and if it really is greener on the other side.  I know that I want 'out' of my situation, but without someone to run to, it's easy for me to be overwhelmed by the fear that getting 'out' won't make me any happier but it will hurt a lot of people.

Cate xxx

Gone Fishing

Being the dreamer that I am, I like for things to happen as if they were meant to be. I like those chance encounters, those once in a lifetime moments when the planets align themselves just so and Fate works her magic.

But what do you when Ms. Fate appears to have gone on strike? After two months of break-ups and make-ups with T, I felt like something had to change. I wasn't happy and I was pretty sure he wasn't either. My neurotic behaviour was no longer amusing. It was just plain irritating, but I knew we would keep going through the on-again, off-again routine if something didn't change.
Since Ms. Fate was proving useless, I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands.

And late one night in mid-December, I found myself doing just that. I sat down with my laptop intent on finding myself a new job or some other means of broadening my horizons. Since my affair seemed doomed and my career wasn't faring much better, I felt I needed to find something to bring back my enthusiasm. But as I searched through various job sites and education programs, my optimism faded as I was constantly reminded of my limited funds and my even-more-limited schedule. Eventually I found myself wandering in a different direction.

Over the last two years, I had heard so much about the world of on-line dating through the blogs I had read, but truthfully never considered them. I hated the idea of ticking boxes; it all seemed so forced and unnatural. Plus, it felt so crass. I knew I was basically looking for an adulterous shag, but I didn't want animated images of twenty-something girls shaking their breasts as I filled out my profile. There had to be a more tasteful way of doing things.

And after a bit more hunting, I found a site dedicated to the likes of me - married and bored. I soon set up a profile and with a few tips that I have learned from the blogsphere (Master Riff, to be exact), I was well on my way to finding myself the perfect affair. Within minutes the cyber winks and nudges began to make their way to my laptop. As many bloggers have already touted, women reign supreme in the world of on-line dating. But it doesn't hurt to be a tall, blue-eyed blonde either.

Perhaps it is me being naïve or maybe I just got lucky because the guys who contacted me were perfect gentlemen. Well, maybe not quite perfect but at least they didn't dive right in with questions about sex or whether I could meet them that evening. And not one of them sent me a cock shot! My faith in mankind had been restored. For the most part, my inbox was a stack of fairly well-written and witty messages querying how I had found myself in the world of adultery and what was I looking for in a potential suitor.

And that made me laugh. I had never really thought about it. My relationship with T had come about because I liked his writing and I wanted to know the guy behind the blog. I hadn't really thought about what he would be like in real life but fortunately Ms. Fate was in a good mood that week because T was even better in person. But given that the first candidate was five inches shorter than me and had a moustache, I could tell that I wasn't going to be quite as lucky this time around. So with a page full of tick boxes in front of me, I started the process of defining what I was after. Within minutes, the page was complete and I clicked the 'Search' button. I had ticked my way to Mr. Right...

Or so I thought.

My search came back with nothing. Zero. Zilch. Zip. Not one single profile fit my criteria. Instead of a list of guys ready to rock my world, there was a polite message telling me I was being too picky and that I needed to expand my criteria a bit more.

And so I did.

And this time when I clicked 'Search', a list of candidates came back. One by one, I read their profiles and thought 'he might work' or 'he's a possibility' and promised to peek at just one more. But one more became a dozen more. And a dozen more after that. By the end of the night, I probably had read every profile of every man on this side of London over the age of 40. They were professional, they were educated, they were attractive, witty, intelligent, athletic, French, Italian... anything and everything a woman could want.

Except I didn't want any of them. I responded to a few emails politely but couldn't bring myself to take it any further. It all felt so forced and I had realised what I wanted didn't exist. My first unsuccessful search was Mr. Right and he was nowhere to be found. And I knew why.

The guy I was after had to be over 6'4" with hair that I could run my fingers through. He had to have a sense of humour but also know that hex isn't just something witch's do. Intelligent and well-read were also essential qualities - if he couldn't match me intellectually then he certainly wouldn't be allowed near my knickers. And he had to appreciate my ass, my legs, my love of shoes and my fascination with anal sex. But truthfully I couldn't think of any guy going anywhere near my delicate bits without a smile that was definitely naughty, but trustworthy too.

I soon realised that it was T that I was after, but with a few modifications. This T would live 30 miles away instead of 300 so that we could see each other all of the time. He wouldn't disappear on weekends and school holidays and he certainly wouldn't forget to call. But the best part is that he would know nothing of my struggles to make sense of my marriage or my neurotic tendency to run when I get overwhelmed. And he would have a clean slate too. There would be no S and the story of how he had loved her so, no reason for me to convince myself that I was just there to fill the void.

Once it became obvious what I was looking for, I knew that I couldn't possibly find it. I had gotten as close to perfect as Ms. Fate was going to allow and I had chosen to let it go. Rather than creating an even bigger mess, I decided to give infidelity a rest and let Ms. Fate take a well-deserved holiday. I stared at my profile one last time and smiled at what I had learned. I had seen enough to know that I could have another affair if I wanted one, but there was really only one that I wanted.
So I deleted my account and signed up for a writing class instead.

Cate xxx

Why do I cheat?

Recently, I was asked why I am having an affair.

For a moment, I hesitated. I wondered if I should go the easy route and give the simple answer or should I put some more effort into it and really try to explain how things went wrong, that our relationship has gradually been eroding over the years in many different ways. I chose the simpler option and said that I was frustrated by my husband’s lack of interest in sex. And there is a lot of truth to that, but I think I could have endured a sexless marriage if I had stronger relationship with my husband.

But I don’t. And as much as I want to put into words what frustrates me about our marriage, I am really struggling to do so. I can’t think of one anecdote that sums up my feelings on it. I can’t point to a particular moment in our relationship and say, “There! That’s where it all went wrong!” It’s so much more complicated than that.

I suppose the easiest way to describe our relationship is that we are a marriage of opposites. My husband is a reliable, hard-working individual who craves structure and routine, while I tend to be a bit more free-spirited, making up the rules as I go along. In some ways we compliment each other. He provides the stability and discipline that I often lack. It’s not that I can’t handle responsibility. I am actually pretty good about making lunches, doing laundry and all the other things that are necessary to running a home. But when I get caught off guard, I tend to lose direction and get a bit confused. This is where my husband excels because he always manages to get me back on track. So when I am feeling the urge to tell my boss to shove it, my husband can usually get me to refocus on the importance of having a job.

My husband’s sensible approach to life has its advantages when I need advice on my career or help with the kids, but it doesn’t work so well in our relationship. My husband does not express his emotions easily. In fact, I would even say that he is uncomfortable with them and would rather keep them hidden from me and the rest of the world. I am the opposite. I have so much to express all the time but somehow I have learned to stifle it because I have seen too many looks of irritation from him that seem to say “Oh great, here we go again”.

But it’s not just a frustration with my own confinement. It’s the fact that my husband has such an aversion to anything frivolous. He just won’t do it. And unfortunately, romantic gestures fall within this definition. He doesn’t see the point of buying me flowers because they wilt and die. He has never called in sick to hide under the duvet and shag – there is work to be done and those sick days may be needed! I could go on and on with a list of things that he considers impractical that to me are an invaluable expression of the love that I crave.

And I guess that is what really frustrates me most. When I want my husband to express love and affection for me, he just won’t do it and over time I have interpreted that to mean that he doesn’t love me at all. The cancelled dates, the birthdays forgotten – all these things have been stockpiled in my memory as reminders of how he can’t possibly feel anything but contempt for me.

But I have realised lately that he does care about me. He wants so much to provide the security and stability that he sees as fundamental to our happiness and he doesn’t want anything to distract him from that goal. So when he cancels a dinner reservation because he needs to plan for a meeting, I have learned to accept that it isn’t intended to upset me, it is just simply who he is. And I am even learning to appreciate it.

I find it rather ironic in a way. After years of disappointment and frustration with my marriage, I am finally able to see it for what it is and understand why I have so often felt alienated by it. I am no longer angry about the things my husband won’t do for me. Instead, I focus on his good points – the things he does well that keep me focused and often inspire me to do better.

But I know that this wouldn’t be possible had I never taken that risk and had an affair. All the bottled up emotions and frustrations finally have a release and I don’t feel like I am being stifled anymore. It’s the most wonderful feeling, but it is also a dangerous one. Because what is keeping me happy in my marriage is the very thing that could destroy it.

Cate xxx