An article from the Chicago Tribune that I found to be insightful.
There are certain things that can’t be reversed. You can’t unsqueeze the toothpaste or coax the genie back into the bottle. And once you’ve cheated — or been cheated on — you can’t make the consequences go away.
Michele learned about her husband’s affair 28 years ago. She didn’t leave as soon as she found out, because they had a son; she was a full-time student and unemployed; and she had no family nearby to provide her and her son with even temporary housing. Her husband’s income was too little to support two households. If Michele were to have sought a divorce, she would have had to give up school and go to work, steps she wasn’t willing to make. So, she lived with the reality of the cheating: “The pain, anger and depression that resulted from this betrayal lasted for many years.”
After Michele graduated and began working, she was hopeful that the memories of her husband’s affair would die. And they did, partially: “Eventually, the demands of career, family and community took up so many hours that the sadness was pushed aside.”
But now there’s a new phase to the pain that Michele never expected. Now that she and her husband are retired and approaching their 60th birthdays, she has more time to think: “Retirement gives one the time to reflect upon one’s life. The memories of the betrayal, which were buried but not gone, have again resurfaced. It’s hard to believe that after 28 years the pain is still fresh.
“I hold no animosity toward the other woman. It was my husband who promised fidelity and broke his promise. But anyone who thinks that affairs are no big deal if the marriage doesn’t end should stop kidding himself. The pain can last a lifetime. It can forever change how one feels about one’s partner.”
Scott is the one who cheated in his relationship. And even though his affair took place six years ago, he’s still paying the price: “I’m a retired PhD engineer and engineering professor. I have two children, both very successful, one a design and research engineer and the other a pediatrician.
“My wife, Tricia, is a medical coder and plans to retire in about a year.”
Five years ago, Scott was on assignment in the San Francisco Bay area when he got a call from his wife. She had been going through some of his personal papers and found a poem he had written 22 years before. It was addressed to a student he had been infatuated with, but the poem was never sent: “Tricia grilled me for a long time and demanded to know if there were ever any transgressions of any kind. I confessed that six years before, when I was sent to another laboratory for a few weeks, I had gotten to know another engineer, and we had an affair. She demanded to know if there were any other women. I told her of two other women that I had spent some time with, but nothing physical occurred.
“Since that time, five years ago, she has occasionally gone off the deep end, accusing me of associating with filthy women, amoral women, etc. Several times, she has accused me of having an affair with one of my sisters, patently false.
“If a letter comes to me with a woman’s name as the sender, she accuses me of having an affair with that person. This sort of accusation has wrecked our relationship and made life hell for weeks at a time. It is occurring again now, and again, I’m seriously considering divorce.”
Scott says he thought that by admitting his affair, he and his wife could put it behind them. Now, he’s having second thoughts: “If I hadn’t told of the details, she would never have the ammunition to throw back in my face, repeatedly. Yes, I made a serious mistake, but confessing such details has done much more damage.”