Why Didn’t You Just Get Divorced?
It’s a question I get asked a lot after admitting to having an affair.
In a recent comment to one of my stories, Eden Dawson wrote:
I’m curious about how divorce isn’t easy but an affair is. Affairs involve investment, changing your routine, keeping your story straight consistently, etc. And the fallout can be seriously messy. Some people lose their jobs, lives, and peace when a partner finds out about their affair. So I’m curious to know how divorce isn’t considered an easier option. Is it the ego that is telling you that you won’t get caught or that the aftermath won’t be so bad if you are caught?
First, I’d like to say how much I appreciate the curious tone of Eden’s comment. So often, people shame me but I don't sense that in her question at all. Also, since I’m a huge proponent of curiosity, I believe curious questions like hers are exactly what we need more of in this world. She’s not coming to a quick judgment. She’s seeking to learn and understand.
Thank you for that, Eden.
The question she poses is a good one. I responded to it in the comments with a short answer but felt it’s worthy of a much longer explanation. I’m hoping this will help her and others understand how I ended up doing what I did.
To begin with, neither getting divorced nor having an affair were easy options.
For those who haven’t gone through one, getting divorced is like stepping into a fire. It’s destructive and you have no idea where you’ll end up when it’s over. It’s really like a death. It was very difficult to accept ending my marriage when I’d worked so hard to keep it alive.
When it comes to divorce, there were so many things to consider. My kids. My family. Our friends. My financial picture. There were so many layers.
I felt completely stuck. This was partially due to who I was at the time and the choices I’d made and partially due to the structure of my marriage. My ex was a good manipulator and I was easily manipulated. What I admired as confidence when we were dating turned out to be arrogance and a form of control. He said he knew what was best and if I challenged him I was told I was being disrespectful.
I’ll admit I had poor boundaries but it's difficult to have them when your marriage is structured as a hierarchy rather than a partnership. I always felt like I was trying to win his favor. Rocking the boat seemed like a bad idea.
But as Eden’s question suggests, having an affair wasn’t an easy option either. If a divorce is like stepping into a fire, then an affair is like a frog in a pot of water on the stove. It feels good for a while until you suddenly realize you're swimming in boiling water.
My affair rocked me to my core and made me question myself in so many ways. Yet in working through all the internal questions the affair brought up, it did for me what I couldn’t do for myself alone. It ignited the courage in me to make the changes I needed to make.
So to give a short answer, I’d say this: A divorce didn’t seem like an easy option at the time because for various reasons I felt completely stuck in my marriage, and although the affair wasn’t easy either, in a roundabout way it helped me to get unstuck.
For a longer answer, I’ll need to dig into all of this further. As I mentioned, my stuckness was largely due to who I was at that time, the choices I made, and my ex controlling large portions of our marriage — the two biggest being money and sex. There were also messages about what marriage is like that confused and compounded the situation.
Financially stuck
When my youngest was born, I left my career for the sake of family life. My ex offered little support to helping around the house or with the kids. He’d say he’d do something, but rarely would.
I know now the importance of watching someone’s actions over their words. That’s where you see the truth of someone’s character.
But I digress. My career path and the truth of my behind-the-scenes married life weren’t compatible. When I was working full time and taking care of all the household duties and the kids, I was stressed to the max.
So I quit my career and took a much less stressful any-monkey-can-do type part-time job — one that allowed me to be at home in the afternoons when the kids were home. At the time, I did what I thought was best for my family life and for my sanity. But in retrospect, I shot myself in the foot. My former career wasn’t one that could be re-entered easily after being away for years.
And although working part-time at that any-monkey-can-do type job was great for my family life, it made me completely dependent on my ex. There was no way I could have supported myself with what I was doing at that time.
To top it off, he controlled the money he made. I know this may sound crazy but he kept his income separate from mine yet I was the one who paid all the bills. So he’d give me what I needed to pay them with little to spare.
I kept the money I made in my part-time job separate, but it wasn’t much. The way things were handled made me feel completely dependent on him. I asked numerous times for him to be more transparent and to split things evenly but he’d say, “Can we talk about this later?” or ask, “How much more do you need?”
When I look back at this now, it’s hard to believe I put up with this. It’s hard to believe I never put my foot down and said, “No, we’re talking about this now.” But again, my poor boundaries and his insistence on being right kept me quiet.
Sexually stuck
As I mentioned, my ex controlled our sex life. He’d only have sex on Saturday nights. He considered the rest of the week “work nights”. So if either of us were tired, sick, or if it was that time of the month, we didn’t have sex. He’s also a night owl and I’m an early bird. I couldn’t stay awake until after midnight when he’d finally rolled into bed.
Needless to say, our sex life was basically non-existent. I tried so many things to peak his interest to come to bed earlier— fancy underwear, books on erotic massage, sex toys— but nothing I did seemed to help.
Over time I discovered that he was staying up late to watch porn in secret while I slept, which filled his needs but not mine. When I made this discovery, I felt cheated on. I also felt unattractive and undesirable. My self-worth took a major hit. I felt like I must suck at sex.
I tried to approach him in a non-confrontational way to talk about this. Like Eden’s question, I wanted to understand. I wanted to have a conversation. But he denied it and proceeded to lie to me about it.
And I couldn’t figure it out. I wanted to be able to talk about it. I wanted to understand why my husband — the only one I’m supposed to be having sex with — preferred someone on a screen over a living, breathing, and willing woman.
It’s a question I still wrestle with.
Stuck on confusing messages
I was told often that marriages are hard work, so I thought the problems in my marriage were just that — stuff we needed to work through. So I kept working on the stuff.
But what I didn’t see then is that both people have to be invested in the work. As my ex did with many things, he’d say he was a family man, that he was invested in the marriage. But in practice, he wasn’t. I didn’t see this while I was married, but I see it now.
Instead, I made the mistake of trusting his words over his actions. I painted my values onto him. I thought we were of like mind. But we weren’t. I mistakenly kept giving him the benefit of the doubt. And this was so confusing to me because what I thought marriage would be like by seeing my parent’s marriage and those of my siblings and how they worked through hard stuff was incongruent with what I was experiencing.
I know I should have held him accountable. I should have spoken up more than I did. I know now that I had poor boundaries and lacked the courage to stand up for what I would and wouldn’t tolerate.
But it's hard to have boundaries when you’re financially dependent and feel unworthy. He held the purse strings, the sex strings, and just about any other strings you can think of. He held control over me and when that imbalance happens, it’s hard to overcome.
The affair helped me get unstuck
I didn’t seek an affair. The situation presented itself and I took it. I was so starved for affection. To feel heard and understood. To feel worthy.
Through it, I learned a great deal. I learned that with the right person, I could ask curious questions and not be dismissed. We could have conversations about difficult topics. I learned I was desirable, and attractive and that I didn't suck at sex. I learned what could be possible in a relationship with someone else.
But the affair was far from easy. I berated myself often for what I was doing. I told very few friends about it. I knew it had the potential to harm a lot of people. In many ways, it made me feel more separated and alone.
Yet oddly, the affair was both a weight and a light. The weight of what I was doing was heavy on me, but it also brought me light. It brought me hope. It ignited the courage in me to want something better for myself.
It was the catalyst for change.
Shortly after it began, I started seeing a therapist. About six months later, my ex and I began couples therapy, but nothing changed. He kept telling me and the counselor that my accounting of things was wrong. After 9 months of this, I moved out. It was obvious then that things with him would not change.
Although I can’t be certain, I’m not convinced I'd have ever taken the steps to leave my marriage had I not had the affair. I was controlled, dependent, down on myself, and feeling unworthy. I’m not convinced I’d ever have left.
When you’re stuck in the muck of a bad relationship, sometimes it’s hard to see how bad it is until you experience what a good one is like.
kasey sparks, © 2022
Thank you for reading. To quote Ram Dass, “We’re all just walking each other home.” If you’d like to join me on the journey, click here. If you’d like to access thousands of writers and their soul-stirring stories on Medium, click here. A small portion of your sign-up fee will support my writing.
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