Early on in my romantic and sexual life, in my teens till my 20s, I experienced a longterm relationship with a serial cheater. My first experience with betrayal was the discovery of an online diary written by my then girlfriend describing sexual encounters with others. I was overcome with the pain we are all familiar. My body rejected the discovery, I was disgusted, ran to the bathroom, vomiting. I was on a rechargeable phone with her at the time. She found it hilarious, just dessert for me invading her privacy.
I did not, and still do not, possess the self respect I needed to extract myself. I stayed in that doomed relationship as a person doomed to things I could not accept. For one thing, I was a fresh high school drop out, now almost completely without peers except for her. It was clear that she was test driving and interviewing countless prospective replacements for me while using me for emotional and sexual validation in the meantime. I was treated to fun discussions about the characteristics she wanted in a mate. If only she could have my face, his body, so an so’s confidence, my devotion, asshole’s skill with his tongue, that dude over theres prospects. I conceded every boundary I thought I had. I persisted that way for 8 years in total.
Isolated from peers and without support at home, drowning in self pity and intrusive thoughts about what she was doing with others while I had eyes only for her, I was simultaneously a horny teenage boy. The environment I was in stretched out thresholds and parameters that should never have been touched, and I found my pain and arousal confusingly entangled.
A painful, loathsome, disgusting yearning. An awful secret wish. Something I couldnt find support for.
I got that way because I was abused and didnt free myself. To my young self, I couldnt live without her, I couldnt change her nature. But what if I could have friends? What if I could have love? What if I could have sex with my girl, she could have sex with other people, we could eat food and play video games and have cool conversations and we could all be in agreement that it was just some big lovefest where I wasnt discarded and none of it was cruel? All I had to do is be down with it right? Could all my pain and misery just be put away like that?
The fantasy never met reality. That relationship was not salvageable. No adaptation of myself to her behavior could have changed it. Other ways to betray me were conceived of and implemented.
When my generation became college aged, It became possible for me to de isolate myself socially. I built a group of not very good friends of my own. Bought a car, got fit. Started to feel the love fade. Started to see other females as a possibility. Eventually embraced the idea that monogamy wasnt feasible. The cheating girl I thought I was going to end up with forever was just a friend, for however long that was worthwhile to keep. I had misunderstood relationships, she had not, and I was eager to see new experiences in the light of that understanding.
But the parasite, the scar, the fetish of seeing my woman in a sexual context with other men outside of a betrayal nibbled at the edge of my brain.
Eventually, I met Ww. She was(is) timid and squeaky, tall, lean, and very pretty. She was aggressively interested in me, wanted as much of me, and all of it she could get, out of the gate. I saw a reflection of her intentions in a younger, pre betrayal me. I wanted her, and I wanted to protect her from my experience. I could not do with seeing her harmed in the ways I was. She was jealous and insecure. I cut off other women. I believed in love again. I really didnt see it coming.
Long before the cheating, before the marriage,
When I shared my fetish with Ww, she was disturbed. Wanted nothing to do with it. We were supposed to be each others sexual one and only, she wanted only me, supposedly. I still had the itch, but I was happy about that.
I found out about the extent of her cheating this year a decade after the events supposedly ended. We’ve been in therapy. She passed a polygraph on her timeline. We arent rugsweeping.
One of my hurdles to healing is the realization that she rejected my olive branch to the urges and desires she pretended not to have, preferring to have the appearance of monogamy, but secretly making it one sided. Our relationship was happy, we had great sex, we had goals. She was insecure about other women, angrily accusing me of noticing females in grocery isles and such, which I do not do, while she secretly conducted affairs and sexual arrangements with customers and coworkers for at least a 9 month long period of time.
She knew about my little problem, knew I was willing to accommodate her, knew she didnt have to make it a betrayal. But chose to. I cant grok that.
She only considered leaning into it once when I became suspicious and angry about her and her coworkers. They seemingly made a stupid plan to create a situation where a threesome might occur with her, me and her primary Ap. To get the affair out of the closet; hide the cake eating by possibly blaming me for things getting out of hand. To get out of trouble by getting out in front of it, using my stupid fantasy. They tried to create a situation where the Ap had nowhere to stay that evening, and she offered our home as a solution. I shot them down, sensing deception.
At the time I lacked critical information to see it for what it is. But now, with context, I know it means that
1. They discussed my suspicions
2. They asked each other what they should do
3. She shared my fetish
4. They discussed a workaround involving it
5. Scripted the scenario
6. Put on the play in front of me to see if Id eat the bait.
Thats alot of consecutive things that piss me off.
I asked Ww if thats how the planning side shook out. "Probably not", she said. Do you remember it happening? "Not really, but I believe you", she said. "I remember sitting at the table in the bar that night." Who really knows.
In therapy, our therapist asked me to build a list of my needs. She noted I wasnt giving my Ww anything she could do to help me with my pain, just ranting about events in the timeline. Its a fair criticism.
I mentioned this issue in my homework assignment. Ww comes up empty handed on how to make me feel better. Let me know she would Never, never, never be interested, will not ever do it. Suits me. By my recognizance of what has happened, we arent eligible. Its dead. But Im bitter about it, because I still have the problem and she cant think of anything to say to help. The things she did are germane to the reasons I developed this disfunction.
She produced for and trusted the Ap with a nude she made. Never did that for me. When we were driving home from family, we had a sexual and flirtatious conversation. It was ruined when I suggested she take and send me a dirty picture. She acted like I would use it as evidence against her in a divorce, and refused.
A few days later, i suggested we go and sneak into the place where she and her Ap screwed around and bang it out so I could make it mine. Refusal. Too risky, trespassing, etc. Fine, I guess, thats reasonable, but she risked us and her job to do that with him.
Im learning shitloads of things about the things Im upset about, and am finding my ability to accept them, her willingness to do anything to make me feel better about them unsatisfactory.
Its getting hard for me to live with the things I have learned about who I am to her. I feel I was chosen for my safety, devotion, and utility as a partner. Since she cheated, that feels repugnant.
I never got better from the longterm scars from my previous betrayal. Im losing hope I will recover in any meaningful way from this one, too. Doesnt leave me much room to like sex, people, or myself. Id do anything to unfuck my self respect. Id do anything to unshare what happened to me with my wife.
I cant tell you how hard this was to write.
