This is my first time posting here. I’ll probably tell my much broader story at some point in the future. In short, D-Day was May 7, 2018. My wife of 18 years was having an affair with a fellow instructor at her school who happened to also be my youngest son’s teacher. Thankfully he moved onto a different building at the beginning of last school year. It took a few months for her to finally end it, but it feels like we’re on the road to recovery as difficult as it is. I love her dearly and she’s working with me at reestablishing all of the connections that were severed when she decided to go down that path.
A funny thing happened when I was getting my haircut a couple of weeks ago. Funny in the sense of “I can’t believe you’re telling me this.” My stylist has her own salon so we’re free to talk without people overhearing. When I arrived I told her that she looks great. She looked like she had lost about 20lbs. I sat down in the chair and asked her how things were going and she proceeded to tell me that her husband is having an affair. He’s in the same line of work as my wife. My stylist was beside herself with how someone could do this to her and asked for any advice I could offer aside from what she planned to do later that day which was to file for divorce.
Since I trust her to not share what’s told to her in confidence I shared my story from the previous year. She wondered aloud at what’s the deal with educators. We had a laugh about that, but I told her that with time things have started to improve even with the unavoidable stops and starts. I might add that my wife also sees this stylist. When I got home I didn’t tell my wife what I had learned.
Last week my wife had her own hair appointment. I messaged the stylist and to let her know that I hadn’t shared news of recent events with my wife. After my wife’s appointment the stylist messaged me to tell me that she told my wife about her husband’s affair but nothing came up about my wife’s own and that my wife just said that that was awful.
When my wife got home she wanted to talk. She wanted to know how I was doing. How I’m dealing with things these days. I told her that there are more good days than bad, but when I’m quiet I’m trying to process thoughts, feelings, fears, and anxiety; especially when we get close to a marker on the calendar which was the case last week. September 8 was the one year anniversary of her second to last breaking of the NC rule which I called her out on a few months later so as not to let on that I still had access to all of her stuff.
My wife told me that I should let those feelings just flow through me and to not dwell on them. I told her that was easier said than done given that this experience was the most traumatic I’ve ever experienced and that I had no way to decide not to let this happen to me. I pointed out that she called all the shots. She chose to enter into the affair. She chose to continue it after D-Day. She chose to end it after I finally mustered up enough courage to give her an ultimatum.
She took it pretty well. It felt good to get it off my chest even though I’ve probably said something along the same lines a few times in the last year and a half. She never told me what she had learned earlier in the evening at the salon.
Anyway, I would have paid to have been a fly on the wall when the stylist told my wife the story about her husband’s affair and she just had to sit there and behold the pain of another life kicked in the gut by infidelity. Sick and twisted I know, but #justdeserts