I haven’t blogged in a couple of weeks.  Usually I blog when I feel the need to express something because I am angry, sad or happy.  Right now, I am just….BEING.

Things have been good lately, and I am pleased to say that I am spending considerably less of my day thinking about the affair or the mistress, and the reprieve feels wonderful.

It’s interesting, I don’t mind so much having the affair pop into my mind, but I do mind the mistress invading my thoughts.  I think that is because where the affair is concerned, I have reasons, explanations and repair work that has been done. so when I think of the affair, I also think of the work that is being done, the commitment my husband and I have to working through this, and I try to refocus my thoughts on the positive.  Where the mistress is concerned, that wound is still very much open, raw, and inflamed.

The other day, while looking through my tax folders for income tax submission, I came across a file folder called “Legal” and peeked inside.  Low and behold it is all of the communications between lawyers and my husband about the details of the affair and the fallout as a result of same.  We have had three lawyers working this case, at different times, across three different firms. An employment lawyer handling the paternity and child support claims, an employment lawyer dealing with the wrongful dismissal suit she has launched because she was fired, and a criminal attorney we retained to assist us when we were considering criminal charges against her for the ongoing harassment.  Wow.  Three lawyers, two consenting adults, and a partridge in a pear tree.  Where do I fit into all of this?

So, there I sat on the floor of the home office looking through this file folder at the volumes of letters, lawyer fee statements and official documents.  One document in particular stood out for me, and I read it.  I really wish I hadn’t because the content disturbed me.  It was a dictated account of an exchange between the mistress and our family lawyer when she came to his office insisting to speak with him about why my husband and I were “bullying” her.  Is she serious?  We are bullying her?  Because we stand united, and refuse to allow her to break up our family, we are bullies?  Because he fired her after the shit hit the fan, and she no longer had any power over him, that makes him a bully?  Because we won’t stand idly by and allow her to douse us in her poison, and request legal protection, we are bullies?   She really is fucked up.  Pardon my language…

The lawyer, upon meeting with her, had asked his law clerk to sit in on the meeting and take notes.  Those notes informed the document I was reading.  In the document it stated that the relationship was romantic in nature, and that it was consensual.  She stated that she loved him, and he loved her.  It also stated that the only reason that they aren’t together is because of me.  Somehow *I* messed things up for him.  Did she really expect me to step aside?  Was I supposed to bend over and take it up the ass from her?  I don’t think so.  Where does this sense of entitlement to what is mine come from that she thinks that it is wrong of me to interfere?   So it’s wrong of me to interfere in their relationship, but it is OK for her to interfere in a 10 year marriage?

I can’t express how beyond angry and sickened I am by her, and when I read these things, or hear of her latest actions, I am livid in a way I can’t explain….and that is a big deal since I like to use words, and when I can’t…you know its BIG.

I continued reading the account of that meeting.  Towards the end it stated “She maintains that their relations were quite frequent. i.e. 5-6 times per week . Was I reading that right?  She claims to have been sleeping with my husband 5-6 times a week?  That is like everyday except Sunday – what the hell?

This upset me for two reasons:

1. He has never had sex that frequently with me
2. He told me it was infrequent so this sent up red flags that he was lying

I told him immediately about what I had read.  Therapy has taught me not to keep these things inside.  He reassured me that her statement was false.   They were not together that often, and he chalked it up to her making more of this than it really was.  He mentioned that the lawyer had joked to him that as a result of that statement, he was considered among his office staff, to be quite the stud.  My husband later quipped that for a 42 year old man that would be quite the feat – 5-6 times per week.

The whole thing left me with a sour taste in my mouth, but since that day almost 2 weeks ago, I haven’t really given the affair much thought.   My husband and I are communicating better than ever, and I no longer feel as apprehensive about raising my fears and feelings about it to him.  I know he is there for me, and wants to help.  I trust that.

I look forward to the day when I can go a whole day without it invading my thoughts.  I can’t wait to feel free again.  This burden is so heavy.


I’ve been told that I am suffering with a variant of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  Given the flashbacks, the physical reactions that I feel to the memories, or the images that run through my head, I believe it.

Learning that your spouse has been unfaithful and that you have been purposefully deceived by the person you trusted most in this world is traumatic, to say the least.  It shakes you to your core, and causes you to reevaluate all of your beliefs, and to question your own judgements.  Your confidence in your relationship, your family, and yourself are all questioned.

Learning the details of what happened serve the immediate “need to know”, and prevents you from imagining scenarios and circumstances that simply never took place, and replacing those self-created “fantasies” with factual data.  While useful in one sense, it is also excrutiatingly painful to hear your spouse described what he did with his mistress, when, and how.  It allows you to create a mental movie in your mind of the events, and gives your mind ammunition with which to flash back to these movies at seemingly random moments throughout your day.

Seemingly innocent things can act as a trigger, reminding you in a split second of your suffering, the affair, the loss.  Looking at the couch that I sat on when he told me.  Where I sat.  Where he sat.  That does it for me.  I can’t sit on that sofa now without thinking of it.  As such, I’ve tucked it into the living room that we rarely use.

Pulling out the journal that I kept for the first few months brings me right back just by looking at the cover.  I will reread the entries now and again, not to remind myself of the pain, but to see how far I’ve come.

One of my greatest triggers is music.  It is sad for me, because music is something that I love.  I consider myself quite musical, having studied music as a child and adolescent, it has a very emotional connection for me.  Music can lift my mood, make me sad, etc.  It has a powerful force for me.  I listen to music for a great part of my day.  Whether I am in the car (I never drive without music playing), or at my computer doing work (also have iTunes playing in the background), music is always with me in some way.  My musical memory for songs is also vast.  I can remember lyrics and elements to songs from my childhood and adolescence like they were yesterday, even if I haven’t heard the song for a decade or more.  It brings me right back to the days when it was a hit on the radio, and in a flash I am that teenage girl sitting on the steps of her highschool watching the boy she pined over throw a football with his friends, wondering what she could do to be noticed.  The feelings flood back immediately, and I am transported right back there.

In the wake of the affair, I spent a great deal of time in profound sadness.  I would drive to and from work, songs playing on the radio, so desperately sad.  I now connect those songs on the radio to the way I was feeling, and hearing them now puts me right back in that place.   Songs I used to enjoy, not carry with them a deep feeling of sadness and despair. I remember vividly the feelings I had, the thoughts running through my mind, or even which intersection I was at the last time I heard it.  Hit songs that dominate the airwaves wax and wane, and soon enough, a hit song goes into a remission.  It disappears for a while.  And then it resurfaces.  When songs from that time come back on the radio, it is immensely painful.

It isn’t only the songs that were current after the affair was disclosed, but also songs that I enjoyed that were popular while he was having his affair.  I can remember sitting in my car, singing along to a song, doing my infamous seat-dancing that I am prone to do when a good song comes on.  I now look back at those moments, and realize that at the time that this particular song was popular, and I was sitting in my car bopping to the tune, my husband was lying to me, deceiving me, and sleeping with another woman.   I can no longer listen to songs from that YEAR without saying to myself “He was having an affair when I used to enjoy this song”, and it strips the shine off of the enjoyment of the song.  I will still sing along to it, and enjoy it, but it will always be there, imprinted and attached forever to it, like a tag.

The worst part about songs, I find, is the lyrics.  I am a romantic at heart, and often relate the lyrics in a song to my own life.  Love songs with their professions of deep caring or turmoil when there is a fight strike a chord with me.  I often find myself thinking: “I know how that feels!”.  I think this happens to a lot of people, and songwriters want their listeners to relate to, and appreciate what they are writing about.  It is kind of like this blog, and how I want my readers to connect with what I am writing, and if a betrayed woman finds this blog, I want her to be able to relate to it, and find comfort in it.   Songs of a broken heart now have a whole new meaning.  Songs of loss and despair ring true in a way I’d never been familiar with before.

Songs about infidelity almost kill me.  3 months into the affair discovery, the song “Jar of Hearts” by Christina Perri  was released onto iTunes, following its debut as a song on “So you think you can dance”.  It used to take the breath out of me. Now that it is being played many months later on the radio, puts it right in my face.   But, the good thing is that I no longer relate  the lyrics in the same way….I don’t want my husband out of my life.  I now attach these lyrics to her.  She is the one with the heart of stone

Jar of Hearts Video

I know i can’t take one more step towards you
cause all thats waiting is regret
don’t you know i’m not your ghost anymore
you lost the love i loved the most

i learned to live, half alive
and now you want me one more time

who do you think you are?
runnin’ ’round leaving scars
collecting a jar of hearts
tearing love apart
you’re gonna catch a cold
from the ice inside your soul
don’t come back for me
who do you think you are?

i hear you’re asking all around
if i am anywhere to be found
but i have grown too strong
to ever fall back in your arms

ive learned to live, half alive
and now you want me one more time

who do you think you are?
runnin’ ’round leaving scars
collecting a jar of hearts
and tearing love apart
you’re gonna catch a cold
from the ice inside your soul
don’t come back for me
who do you think you are?

it took so long just to feel alright
remember how to put back the light in my eyes
i wish i had missed the first time that we kissed
cause you broke all your promises
and now you’re back
you don’t get to get me back

who do you think you are?
running around leaving scars
collecting a jar of hearts
and tearing love apart
you’re gonna catch a cold
from the ice inside your soul
so don’t come back for me
dont come back at all


who do you think you are?
who do you think you are?
who do you think you are?

As I struggled with the decision with whether to stay in my marriage, I was torn in a way that I’d never experienced.  Staying felt like I was weak. Like I would allow myself to be humiliated, deceived, taken for a ride, and would come back for more.  It seemed like a reward allowing him to stay, allowing him to have his children, his wife, and his life.  I wanted him to hurt.  I wanted him to lose like I had.  I wanted him to be desperate for me.  Asking him to leave meant losing the best friend I’ve ever had.  It meant my children losing access to their father.  It meant losing my partner. I wasn’t prepared for more loss.  I worried that my friends would consider me weak for staying, or judge me.  But I knew where my heart belonged, and made a commitment to do my best to make it work, regardless of what others would say.

I’ve always loved the song “Heaven helps the man (I’m Free)” by Kenny Loggins.  It is the song that plays while the credits roll in Footloose.  Not only do I still love the song, but the lyrics to the song have special meaning for me now.

Heaven Helps the Man (I’m Free) Video

Looking into your eyes I know I’m right
If there’s anything worth my love it’s worth a fight

We only get one chance
But nothing ties our hands
You’re what I want
Listen to me
Nothing I want
Is out of my reach

HEAVEN HELPS THE MAN who fights his fear
Love’s the only thing that keeps me here
You’re the reason that I’m hanging on
My heart’s staying where my heart belongs

Running away will never make me free
And nothing we sign is any kind of guarantee
But I wanna hold you now
And I won’t hold you down

I’m shaking the past
Making my breaks
Taking control
If that’s what it takes


I long for a time when a simple ride in the car, a hug with my husband, a show on TV won’t transport me into emotional hell.  For now, it is my reality.  I know in time it will let up.   I just can’t wish any more than I do that it comes soon.

Over the hump and happy once more

I was going to call this post “A state of affairs” to talk about the state of my marriage today, but then realized it was a play on the word ‘affair’ and while funny, perhaps not appropriate.  So I erased it, and tried to come up with a post title that would illuminate feeling like we are over the worst part and on the other side – over the hump.  Then I realized that was also a play on words, being over the hump.  Whose hump?  His hump with the mistress?  No.  I will never be over that.  I will never be OVER the fact that he willingly made a choice to sleep with another woman for the greater part of a year, but what I will do is change the way I look at it, and how I look at myself because of it.

I realize that up until now, the blog has been pretty dramatic.  Posts about how I found out, the red flags leading up to it, how she seduced my husband, how she is a stalking psychopath, etc.  I realize that a lot of anger comes out, and can appear as though I am stuck in a very angry place. I want to correct that.  I wanted to write this blog in an orderly fashion, starting at the beginning and making my way through that first year.  But, that is because I am a type A personality, and everything has to make sense, be perfect, laid out in order, etc…. I don’t want this to be that way.  I want this to be a place where I can let that go, and just express myself in whatever order makes me feel better.

I am happy.  I am the happiest I have been for an entire year.  I have been through some very turbulent ups and downs, and it has been pretty rocky at times.  This past winter was probably the hardest point for both of us.  Last spring, when this whole affair came to light, I was in a great state of denial.   It was really hard to believe that the affair happened, considering I am married to a good man. We went through the hysterical bonding that caused us to connect sexually very frequently for a long period of time.  We were connecting sexually which had the side effect of making me feel more connected to my husband, and that I was claiming him back.  Soon, it was summer, and I had family fun to look forward to with vacations, kids out of school, day trips, weekend getaways, etc.  We decided to sell our house and buy a new home in August.  Part of the reason we wanted to move was because we were outgrowing our previous home.  We’d bought it when we had only one child, and now had three, so it was getting tight.  The other reason we wanted to move is because the mistress knew where we lived.  We’d seen a car like hers circling the neighbourhood, and we wouldn’t put it past her to drive by and see what we are up to.  We saw a new house as a fresh start.  The sadness started in late August, right after we moved in.  I had nothing else to “look forward to”.   Summer was coming to a close, the kids were gearing up to go back to school, and the novelty of moving was now behind us.   Deep sadness set in, and it was the start of a very bleak 4 month period that I hope I never revisit.

With ongoing counselling, we are learning a lot about ourselves as individuals, and as a couple, how we throw each other off, how our interrelation and  how we manage our own feelings sets the other person into their own tailspin.  We are learning how to ask for what we need, and how to lovingly provide it to our partner.  It has been a very beneficial undertaking, and one we both look forward to every week.  When we have weeks where someone misunderstands the other, or we find ourselves angry to the point where we simply don’t know how to fix it, we use our appointment as an open forum to pick apart what happened, and learn how to do that for ourselves.

What we’ve come to realize is that we weren’t the “perfect couple” that we thought we were.  Perhaps every couple believes they are the perfect couple, or impermeable to this kind of thing.  We did.  We would go out with other couples, and later remark at how disconnected they appeared to be from one another.  No physical contact, no playful compliments passed back and forth, no flirting, no thoughtful gestures – just co-existence.  We used to talk about how lucky we were to be together, to have found the one true person who made US perfect.  We were disillusioned.  Although we very much love one another, and genuinely LIKE one another, we really didn’t communicate well, and we are learning now how to do that.  It is a hard habit to break, and we fall in often, but we are learning how to get out, and grab onto the other person when things get rocky – something we both are not accustomed to doing.

I think most of my happiness of late comes from the fact that the mistress hasn’t been causing any trouble for us lately.  Yes, she did strike around Valentine’s day, and yes it did cause me to gain back the 8 pounds I had just lost, but since then, nothing remarkable to report.  Perhaps she has settled into mommy-hood and we are no longer her focus, perhaps she has come to realize that all of this fighting, and pushing, and debate saps the energy right out of you.  Maybe she has realized that she has no legal footing to demand more child support, and needs to simply accept that things are the way they are.  It is what it is.  Maybe she has gotten over my husband, or the very idea of being with him.  Although I am sure she still thinks we are unhappy, and that he strayed  because we are not solid, I no longer care as much what she thinks.  I am no longer desperate for her to know.  It is enough for US to know.  I don’t need her approval.  I don’t need her blessing.  I no longer want her head.  I just want US, and I have that.


Of the many things that plague me in the wake of my husband’s affair, the thing that perplexes me most is the sense of entitlement in his mistress.  How is it that someone can feel entitled to my husband? My family? My life?

A woman walks into a high end clothing store and after browsing around for a while, comes across a lovely piece that she admired from afar. She tries it on, and loves the way it looks on her and how it makes her feel.  She is determined that she MUST have this item – it was MADE FOR HER.  When she glances at the price tag, she is thrown into a shocked stupor when the price hits her in the face. Or perhaps that tag isn’t a price tag at all, but one that reads “sold”, or “on hold for Mrs. X”.  Whatever the scenario, the situation is the same: the woman loves this item, but all signs tell her that she can’t have it.  She decides that her needs and wants outweigh anyone else’s, she is going to rewrite the rule to suit herself, and she steals it.  She is now the proud new owner of an item that should not be hers, but in her mind it doesn’t matter – finders keepers, losers weepers.  But what if that item wasn’t a blouse, but was, instead, my husband, and what if I found him first and don’t intend to be the weeping loser?

Who, in their right mind, can decide, without any feelings of guilt or remorse, that they are entitled to another woman’s husband?  Isn’t there some kind of “woman code”? Some unwritten rule that has women looking out for one another, instead of competing and tearing one another down?  If a man is happily married, why would you seek him out?  Why would you try to poke holes in his feelings for his wife?  Why would you, upon seeing him vulnerable and at a low point, make every effort to swoop down like a vulture?  Why wouldn’t you just walk away, and find a single man who puts you first, instead of a married man who will ALWAYS put you second?  Aren’t you worth more than that?  Don’t you deserve more than that?

It is painfully obvious that my husband’s mistress suffers with low self esteem, is horribly insecure, and doesn’t come by love in her life very easily.  She manipulates to get what she wants because she doesn’t feel that she is good enough to ever come by it naturally.  She tears other women down because she feels inferior.  People don’t try and pull down those who they feel are already beneath them – they aim higher so that they can try and feel a little better about themselves.  In this case, I am not sure how she could ever possibly feel good about herself.  She tried to destroy a marriage – a family with three young children. She lay the life of her unborn child in the balance, threatening to keep the baby if he remained with me, and offering to terminate it if he left me.  Her child was disposable.  Sounds like a loving mother, no?  When my husband asked her why she was doing this (asking him to leave his wife and threatening to end his marriage), she told him it was for the best, that he obviously didn’t love me, and that she would be able to provide a better, more loving home for our children, in a home where the man and woman LOVE each other (he never loved her). In that scenario she painted where she was planning to take over my life, I think she neglected the part where a psychopath enters into their lives.

This woman is conniving.  This woman is sick. This woman is emotionally unbalanced.  This woman is manipulative.  This woman is threatening.  This woman shows no remorse for her actions.  This woman shows no respect for other women, the institution of marriage, or the importance of a stable home for growing children.  This woman…is now a mother.  It makes me sad for the child, to be quite honest.

A term often used for mistresses who attempt to break up a family is “home-wrecker”.  I don’t use this term for her – I never have.  She isn’t a ‘home-wrecker’ because she hasn’t wrecked my home, but she certainly has tried.  I think we could simply call her “an easy lay”.  Yes, that’s perfect.

When the shit hits the fan A.K.A “Your plan backfires”

Like I said in the last post, all mistresses are working for one thing…destruction of the marriage. And yes, they are working. I liken it to an unpaid prostitute, except there is one main difference: prostitutes let go. Prostitutes fuck and move on, mistresses fuck and [want to] move in.

Some mistresses wait years for their married man to leave their wife. For months or years they are led to believe that the man intends to leave their wife, but have a trunkload of excuses for why they can’t. The timing isn’t right, the kids are still too young, once the youngest is in university, after I get my promotion, I just need a little more time. Let’s face it, they NEVER intend to leave their wives. For many of them, they are getting their cake and eating it too. They get all of the benefits of a secure marital relationship, and an exciting little fantasy on the side. Ideally, they don’t want to give up either one. So, the mistress either has to wait until her patience runs out, or find a way to implode the marriage so that she can grab the brass ring. In my case, it was the latter.

Ultimatums to the tune of “you will tell your wife, or I will” are probably pretty common in those circumstances when the mistress wants in, wants more, and doesn’t like playing second fiddle to the wife. “If he isn’t going to leave his wife”, she thinks, “I will make sure she leaves him”. This was the intent of my husband’s mistress when she sat him down and coached him on what to say to me, how to break my heart, how to make it really sting. “I don’t love you”, “I never loved you”. That’s what she wanted him to say, because that is what she wanted me to think. This wasn’t just about getting him away from me. This was about hurting me deeply, injuring my self-esteem irreparably, and damaging me to the point that I would be rendered me incapable of fighting back. Honey, you met your match 😉

He told me on March 18th, 2010. It was planned that he would tell me on the 19th, but he decided to tell me a day earlier to allow us to have privacy, knowing that if he did it a day later, our conversation would be peppered with text messages, emails and phone calls trying to get a court-side seat to all of the action.

She was shocked on March 20th that he’d confessed the affair to me 2 days earlier. She was even more shocked to learn that he was still at home….and so was I. She was shocked to learn that I hadn’t kicked him out, that he was playing with his children, and that we were committed to working on our marriage. She was furious. It was delicious.

What happened over the next 2 days belongs in a made-for-television movie.

It started with some text messages:

“How are you?”
“I am worried about you”
“Did you tell her?”
“Do you want me to meet you somewhere?”
“I’m sure you need a hug”
“I want to make you feel better”

With some coaching from me on how to keep it short and sweet when you cut the ties, his replies were:

“I am fine”
“I am at home. Playing with the kids, thanks”

“You told her?” she asked. “Yes”, he replied. “You told her EVERYTHING?” she demanded. “Yes. Everything”. What was heard then was the sudden realization that the plan she had worked towards for the greater part of a year wasn’t falling into place as she had planned. In fact, it wasn’t falling at all. It was growing…stronger. How could that be? It was like the ending of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” when the Grinch realizes that despite his best efforts to ruin Christmas for the Whos of Whoville that the love that they share and the warmth in their hearts defeats evil every time, and they will be better and stronger, and will overcome any obstacles because LOVE WINS EVERY TIME.

That’s where the Grinch similarity ends though….because in contrast, she makes the Grinch seem like a humanitarian saint. The only real similarity they share, I suppose, is that they are both green…in her case it is green with envy. She lost. I won. We won.

Not believing this could possibly be true, she accused him of not having told me. I mean, there is no way that he could have told me, and I didn’t kick him out on his ass, right? She threatened to tell me herself. He provided her with my cell number and email. She threatened to come over. He invited her to do so. assuring her that he had put all of his cards on the table face up, and there was nothing more to tell.

Angry and frustrated, she then drafted and sent an email to me disclosing some details of the affair, the sex, and how they both worked to deceive me. She told me how they would have sex for hours on end (lie), how they would make fun of me behind my back (lie), and how sex with him was truly magnificent (while I completely agree, I’d be remiss if I didn’t say that this was also a lie considering she just lay there like a dead fish – remember…she was working). I replied to her email that I had all of the details, didn’t need any more from her, and she needn’t ever contact me again. I wasn’t angry, spiteful, revenge-filled, just matter-of-fact. Not satisfied that she hadn’t crumbled me to my knees, she tried to hit a little harder and a little deeper with further details, such as: “your husband thinks you’re fat” (lie), “your husband thinks you’re ugly” (lie), “your husband told me that he can’t get off having sex with you, and has to think of me to get off” (lie), “whenever your husband is with you, he is actually thinking of me” (lie).

I am hoping this paints a picture of who this woman truly is. I’d never looked pure evil in the face until that moment. It was…informative.

24 hours of text messaging back and forth, emails designed to hurt, maim, slaughter and destroy me, and she was only getting started. It really makes me ponder how someone can do that to another human being? It isn’t enough to try and take away someone’s husband, to try and ruin the lives of three innocent children, and to become pregnant by another woman’s husband, but one also has to kick her when she is down, cause more hurt, and inflict psychological suffering. What had I done to deserve this treatment? Nothing. Well…I guess I met and married the man she wished could be hers. Sorry sweetie….oh wait, no I’m not.

Hell bent on inflicting as much damage as possible, she decided that if we were going to remain together, she was going to cause us some ’embarassment’. She created a fake email account with an alias, and sent emails to my parents, my brothers, my husband’s co-worker, and his best friend to tell them about the relationship and her pregnancy. Of course she denied doing so, and claimed to not know anyone by the name of her email alias. It is interesting that someone she doesn’t know seems to know SO MUCH about her. Did I mention this woman is really not very intelligent? Truthfully, my husband could have done so much better. Oh wait, he did.

After the email tirade, it was determined that this relationship needed to be ended on multiple levels. My husband formally fired her, and asked her not to return to the office the next day. He told her that the police would be called if she set foot on the premises. She was given 15 minutes to collect her stuff, and never return. She asked him not to admit to the government that she had been fired so that she could obtain maternity leave benefits, and he told her he would offer her severance if she would just “GO AWAY”. She didn’t know what severance pay is, and he had to explain it.

We hired a lawyer who set into motion a ‘cease and desist” order to ensure that she would no longer communicate with our family. She was forbidden to send emails, call, show up, text message, or communicate in any other way. We finally felt safe, and the healing could begin.

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