On being unfaithful

10 Nov

cheating spouse

My husband, whom I’ll call Bill, was unfaithful on two occasions that I know about and there were likely more, though it does the heart no good to dwell on possibilities.

I became aware of the first infidelity when Bill’s lover, whom I’ll call Emma, came to me in something of a state, and confessed. I knew Emma a little, we had both been Bill’s students, however, what I hadn’t known was that she’d been in love with Bill all through university, and had for the years since nurtured a deep loathing for me, provoked by our marriage. Which she had attended at Bill’s invitation, and on the day of the confession I remembered, as one remembers the most unlikely things when trapped in situations of intensity, noticing odd hand contact between them at our wedding party. Bill, when I asked him about it later, shamefacedly admitted it  involved passing between them a bag of weed, the smoking of which was apparently a ritual they shared in his office from time to time, and one he could not share with me because it made me chuck and weep.

Some months later, after our US honeymoon, in itself an extraordinary experience during which I was welcomed into a large Jewish Russian Polish American family whose matriarch liked to tell people in front of me that I was “just a doll of a girl, even if he has married out,” postcards began arriving for Bill from Emma, who was now in Italy on her honeymoon. “Caro,” the postcards began, which can be dear, beloved or darling, but Italian always sounds deliciously sensual and intimate, and I did ask why she was addressing him thus from her brand new nuptial bed. I don’t know, Bill said, I wish she wouldn’t, it’s embarrassing. After that, I forgot about Emma for years, and if anyone had asked me, would have said I presumed she’d forgotten about us.

It turned out that Emma’s marriage was not successful, hardly surprising since she said she’d never stopped loving Bill. They had been meeting for coffee & cake at the Gelato Bar at Bondi Beach for several months after her marriage collapsed, but as Bill and I had friendships that didn’t necessarily include the other, and he was always meeting with students anyway, their encounters never got a mention, and I conducted my life in blissful ignorance of what was building.

I should say here that Bill loved women, and women loved Bill. He was the smartest man I’d ever met, he was very funny, he had a way of speaking to others as if they were the only people of significance in his universe, and he was very seductive, though he swore he wasn’t on purpose and I think that was probably true. He could have had just about anyone, indeed, I once overheard a successful author wail at a gathering, “I offered myself on a platter and he turned me down.” When he asked me to marry him it went to my head, even though he said he only wanted us to get married so I would have his superannuation. Marriage as a thing in itself was politically and emotionally problematic for both of us, we’d both done it before, unsuccessfully, but him caring about my future without him (he was much older than me) won me over, so we did it.

Emma, it turned out, had sought out Bill after her marriage collapsed for comfort, which he would have given, initially anyway, in the most innocent of ways, because that was another thing about Bill, his empathy with the more difficult experiences of the human condition was legendary, and people sought him out when they needed someone to unconditionally accept them and their personal chaos. This sometimes led to us extending hospitality to characters you could think of as a little unsavoury, if you were feeling judgemental. It also meant having various former girlfriends to stay when they were passing through Sydney, and just wanted to have “a bit of his mind,” as one put it to me.

I don’t know how things escalated from comforting Emma to getting into bed with her, or at least, that isn’t true, I can imagine exactly how that progressed, but even these many years later I don’t want to talk about it, except to say that when one discovers a spouse has been intimately involved with someone else whilst conducting their ordinary life with you, it’s as if that period of time no longer has validity, it is not what you had thought it to be, you believed it to be what it absolutely was not, and that is something like the feeling of clinging desperately to a stair rail on the fortieth floor of a swaying building in a Tokyo earthquake.

The affair went on for several months, until Bill decided he had to end it. He told me he felt too guilty to continue, to which I rather scathingly responded that it had taken quite some time for that guilt to kick in, hadn’t it? Later he admitted he just didn’t desire her anymore and had found himself in the ridiculous situation of desiring his wife more than he desired his lover. In fact he always had, he continued, he’d just been so moved by the powerful combination of her distress and her unflagging long-term desire for him that he’d capitulated to her need. Desire begets desire. Don’t enhance it, I told him. A mercy fuck is a mercy fuck.

And then, because some of us are incapable of protecting ourselves and seek to know what can only cause our hearts to bleed half to death, I asked “Were you very passionate with her?”

There was a long silence.

“What else would you have me be?” he finally answered.

I was breathless at the audacity of his reply, at the excruciating hurt it caused me, and finally, at the truth of it. I would not have had him be a man who dithered about these things. If it is to be done, it ought to be done with feeling, holding nothing back. The man I loved was incapable of acting without passion in all things, and no, I would not have had him be less than passionate about his infidelity either.


I was a that time involved in a family court matter with my first husband to do with property and child maintenance and all the detritus of a broken-down marriage. I had a lawyer. This lawyer made it obvious to me, by rubbing his leg against mine under the table as we sat in front of a magistrate hammering out details of the settlement, and with various other attentions I hadn’t known were included in his fees and that I ignored, that he fancied me as a potential sexual partner. I was about as uninterested as anyone can be, my preferred mode of relationship being serial monogamy, and being as deeply in love with my husband as it’s possible to get.  Sam didn’t stand a chance. But after Emma’s confession, everything changed. My hurt was a constant dark companion that made me feel quite maddened. I’d smashed up the kitchen, broken every thing I could break, started smoking, and in the most bizarre expression of grief I can ever recall in my life, shaved my head. All my long blonde hair, so loved by Bill, lay in a tangled slippery mess on the bathroom floor, and I refused to clean it up. Every time he brushed his teeth he tried to avoid treading in it but would always come to bed with strands  of my hair between his toes.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this,” he moaned the first night, and tried to stroke and kiss my head, but I swatted him away in a fury and removed myself to sleep in my study.

My newly bald look did not deter the lawyer. This was before the time bald immediately made everyone think of chemotherapy, when it was still exotic. I made up my mind. I would fuck the lawyer. If Bill could do it, so could I.

I cared not a fig for the lawyer, the sex was terrible, I cried the whole time and then I did it again. The affair was brief, over a couple of weeks, and I told Bill straight away, otherwise what would have been the point of it? This caused an explosion I could never have foreseen. It was, apparently, one thing for Bill to fuck around, but quite another if I did it. He didn’t smash anything because there was nothing left to smash, but he did insist on meeting with Sam to “discuss” the “situation.” They met at the Gelato Bar.  Sam’s contact lens fell out into his coffee, he said Bill was better looking than him, and he felt at a disadvantage. They agreed if I wanted both of them, they would learn to share me with as little acrimony as possible.

I heard that news from both parties initially with bemusement, and then rage. I could not believe the arrogance and stupidity of men. And Emma wouldn’t leave me alone.

Bill had, it turned out, made promises. He’d led her to believe he was in something with her for the long haul. She had offered him what she called an “unconventional” relationship, in which she would be his mistress, she accepted that he would stay with me, and he had agreed to the arrangement. I said I couldn’t think of anything more conventional than being some man’s mistress, and I let them both know I very much did not appreciate finding myself in such a fucking cliché.

“She isn’t going to let this go,” Bill told me, trembling, after another long, fraught phone call.

“Why should she? You gave her your word. You let her think it was a long-term thing. Is she now to think that either she’s a fool, or you’re an opportunistic liar? You knew she’d been in love with you forever. What do you expect?”

“I changed my mind, surely a man can be allowed to change his mind?”

“You really have to be careful about “changing your mind” when it involves relations with another human heart. Did you think she’d say OK, and thanks for all the fish?”

I’ve since noticed, listening to others describe their affairs with married men, that there seems to be an assumption on the part of those men that the words they say to their mistresses don’t carry the same weight and gravitas as the words they say to anyone else. In general, these men are amazed when their lover protests, but you said…and repeats back to them the undertakings they have made. There seems to be an assumption on almost everyone’s part except the women involved, that married men are not to be held to anything they say when they are involved in an extra marital affair. The woman, it’s generally thought, is a fool to believe them, and ought to behave graciously when he wants to return to the safety of his marriage, and should not remind him of what have become for him embarrassing promises and declarations of love.

This has never seemed quite right to me. I felt a certain sympathy for Emma. I felt furious with Bill for behaving like any other boring stupid married man who thought for a while he could have a wife and a mistress and then when it got complicated ditch the mistress, and then have the temerity to complain when she didn’t shut up and go away and instead held him to his words, and let her messy broken heart bleed all over his life. I didn’t care how much trouble she caused him. Bring it on, was what I thought. I never got annoyed if I answered the phone and it was Emma asking for Bill, even in the middle of the night. Of course, I’d say, he’s right here. Then I would sit, glowering at him, listening to his uncomfortable side of the conversation  while he made helpless shrugging gestures at me, as if to say, I can’t get away, she won’t shut up. Good, I’d mouth. Serves you fucking well right.

Eventually, Emma did give up and I have no idea what became of her.

I count myself as fortunate to have loved and desired Bill to the degree that I never wanted anyone else, so I didn’t have to struggle with what is, in Western culture, forbidden desire. Though I never managed it, I would like to have been able to deal with his infidelities with more equilibrium, because I don’t think there is anything wrong with desire, and I think  it’s probably much better to act on it than to attempt to repress and deny it. I tend to agree with William Blake:

Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained; and the restrainer or reason usurps its place & governs the unwilling.
And being restrain’d it by degrees becomes passive till it is only the shadow of desire.

He who desires but acts not, breeds pestilence

When Bill asked me, in response to my tortured question about his passion with Emma, “What else would you have me be?” I understood that a human being can never be enslaved by another, and though his infidelity was like death to me at the time, I could not have wished him to do it in any other way.

I don’t think Blake is suggesting I act on every whim, like a rude child selfishly doing whatever I want with no thought for anyone else. But desire isn’t whim. I think Blake is saying that desire is a powerful force, and to be reckoned with, that it is transgressive, that it will break down all my boundaries and lead me into the unknown, and if I turn away, if I refuse desire, I will be the lesser for it in the end. Desire is perhaps incompatible with convention and fidelity. Perhaps this is why cultures are so anxious to restrain it, and the infidelity that so frequently accompanies it, whenever it so subversively appears.

Blake- Marriage of Heaven & Hell

39 Responses to “On being unfaithful”

  1. ドン博士 (@eldonnn) November 10, 2013 at 2:40 pm #

    well, that was good to read.


  2. 8 Degrees of Latitude November 10, 2013 at 3:49 pm #

    Well, they do say it does you good to get shit off your liver 🙂

    It’s certainly true that human relationships are subject to great and often fractious complexities. I’ve always believed that in a marriage, you must very be careful to avoid any semblance of servitude (you note that towards the end of your piece) and always remember that neither party owns the other. There must be trust, but for me the virtual certainty of infidelity is a fact of life; it is to be dealt with as one decides in the circumstances. Dwelling on the sexual aspect of a straying partner’s relationship outside your marriage is deadly poison; to my mind it demeans one’s own intellect as much as it devalues the other.

    I would discount an occasional encounter (say a one-night stand) as having any potential to impact on my marriage (I can only speak for myself). You mightn’t like it, but it’s not worth getting into a tizz about. An affair in contrast – something that lasts longer than a lustfully illicit bonk – has true value to the parties; it inevitably involves deceit far beyond the prosaic level of, say, not making that phone call home that night you were away on business – is an abrogation of one’s duty to one’s spouse.

    I have never had an affair, for exactly that reason, but there have been people with whom I could easily have formed a relationship and, since this is apparently a forum for searing honesty, I’ll add that there have been two with whom I wished at the time I could. I don’t believe there is only “one person for one person”. That’s crap. So fundamentally I’m with you on serial monogamy.

    Of course it hurts when your partner has casual sex with someone else, if you know about it, though logically it shouldn’t. It hurts far more when an ongoing sexual relationship is created outside the marriage. But it doesn’t do that, in the case of an affair, because of the sex. It’s because of the fundamental disloyalty it reveals.

    At the same time, we should be forgiving. None of us is a saint (thank goodness!).


  3. zerograv1 November 10, 2013 at 4:36 pm #

    Lust is the symptom on love driven desire wishing it’s fulfillment, or alternatively a sign of inpending insanity as the thrill of the chase, the catch, the completion then the loss of interest runs its course – it was never love, it was a goal, and an inhuman one at that. The hunter and the prey. Your story reads like a movie script…it would make great French theatre….and I know the deep pain of treachery and lies from an affair….but the longer term aftermath for me was to change the expectation from an all consuming emotional cloud based expectation to something much more down to earth, drama free, companiable, friendly and long lasting…this is the fortunate position I now live in and I would never go back to searching or exposing myself to a Hollywood style definition of what a relationship or monogamy is supposed to be….we are at odds in our expectations on this, and Im not claiming my version is for everybody but Im a lot happier than I’ve ever been with previous partners and there is little risk of even chancing the eye elsewhere since we meet each others needs comfortably and without stress, worry, jealousy, deceit or any other relationship killer being within coo-ee of how we live. Im of course sorry for your pain Jennifer, but invite you to muse whether there might be a better way of doing it than what we are brought up to beleive is the “right” way to have a relationship /RANT OFF


    • Jennifer Wilson November 10, 2013 at 5:00 pm #

      Ah, I agree with you, though. I’m not a fan of marriage, it seems an exclusionary practice, but the emotions that accompany infidelity are hard to contain…


  4. Gruffbutt November 10, 2013 at 4:48 pm #

    As much as I hate puritanical thinking, the desire of societies to exercise restraint has its place. Who’s to say where the line is in the sand? Regardless, it seems to me that you handled the situation with the wisdom I’ve come to expect from reading your blog…and once again, thanks for sharing.

    Those words of Blake ring true. I relate well to pestilence, having held back too often in hindsight, always in hindsight. Your experiences, I know, are shared by a lot of people. It’s a little foreign to me, alas…it’s better to have loved…etc etc…

    As for the mercy fuck, giving into it has further complicated at least one friendship of mine, but I think it will turn out better than the numerous wotifs that buzz around my noggin. Some of us are hopeless dwellers, unfortunately.

    Juggling of dignity, respect, pride, restraint, trust, honesty, passion, release, realisation, actualisation, discovery, feeling alive, leaving nothing behind…where’s the instruction manual, Mr Blake?


    • Jennifer Wilson November 10, 2013 at 5:01 pm #

      I love Blake’s opinion on this. For me, my husband’s infidelity brought excruciating pain but also an enormous increase in my experience & understanding.


  5. malbrown2 November 10, 2013 at 6:09 pm #

    I’m grateful for that honest and well written piece.
    My being just an average Australian guy, (maybe above average) it’s good for me to be able to look through the window onto what is happening with other couples. Many of my “male” friends have separated from their partners but males being what they are, there is little discussion on why. Females are so good at taking honestly. That is a good thing and you’re lucky.

    If my wife of 32 years had a fling, (and she may well have) I would be hurt but also curious as to what I did wrong, if anything.
    Being a scientist, I believe our existing construct of a society does not reflect the complications of our species but most of us try to be nice, especially to those who we hold dear and love.

    I really do hope things work out for you.

    May I suggest, if you are or get into the “partner finding game” you try someone involved in science. Nothing better than a rational but dry discussion on the matter of love. For me anyway.

    Good luck and I enjoy your tweets.


    • Jennifer Wilson November 10, 2013 at 6:37 pm #

      A scientist, you suggest! No, I’m not looking, but I would like to hear a scientist discuss love in a dry and rational fashion.


  6. dave2718 November 10, 2013 at 7:36 pm #

    Wow! Hitting like doesn’t feel like the right response, but equally I can’t really think of any words. Thanks for sharing this story.


  7. theagonisedone November 10, 2013 at 10:02 pm #

    Wow, that was one incredible read. I am at a loss for words.

    Thank you for sharing your story, I hope things work out for you.


  8. Catherine Manning November 10, 2013 at 11:37 pm #

    Beautifully written, Jennifer. Even if you and Bill hadn’t been married, I think you would have felt exactly the same about the infidelity.
    By the way, why the hell didn’t he pick up your hair rather than stepping in it and walking it through your bedroom?!


    • paul walter November 11, 2013 at 12:22 am #

      Men often do this. Same as they leave the toilet seat up and forget the garbage.
      Sexual infidelity is only one of limitless ways people find to betray others and themselves.


      • Jennifer Wilson November 11, 2013 at 5:40 am #

        I didn’t intend this as a rant against men – I know women betray their partners as well. 🙂


    • Jennifer Wilson November 11, 2013 at 5:36 am #

      I think he was afraid I’d react badly if he swept it up and discarded it!


  9. hudsongodfrey November 11, 2013 at 12:07 am #

    I suppose Freud would have a field day. Nor would I be surprised if others hadn’t tried in their efforts to help you to furnish their analyses.

    I think we should make a point of never judging others in affairs of the heart. Yet to write about it on a blog is almost as if it would reassure you to somehow invest in our opinion?
    The thing is of course that in matters of the heart analyses of anything we’re less vested in that the contents of our own hearts is found to be comprehensively useless.

    It is not, I think, to be crippled in love to feel at the whim of the fates over who or what one desires. Whether they’re the wrong person for all the most logical or reasons, or the right one doing all the wrong things. The thing, I think, is that what we’ve control over is how we address ourselves to the problem of love. Not only before or during, but in the aftermath when we can’t change it and need mostly of all to realise that we probably quote from another poet….

    T’was Tennyson wrote, “better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all”.

    It’s a wonderful piece Jennifer. I’m just not so sure as to where it should be published. Somewhere the better to be admired than commented upon would seem fitting.

    I’m working my way through Clive James’ unreliable memoirs, another bloke who fancies himself a poet. and I find him endearingly honest most of the time. Something I’m sure he always intended. Should we be charmed by the disarming honesty of somebody’s more ineffable moments? I wonder, but I excuse it with Tennyson’s riposte and the firm belief that to make a sin of omission is not an acceptable course of action for one aspiring to a properly examined life. And if one is a writer then there’s nothing whatsoever for it other than to write the thing well.

    This writing of the thing well you have and have my congratulations for.

    When the unravelling of the thing is all in the telling then it would seem impolite to comment further on the matter. To thine own self be true, and damn the consequences 🙂


    • Catherine Manning November 11, 2013 at 12:37 am #

      Point well made, hudsongodfrey. Jennifer, I hope you see my comment as it was – support, and a (poor!) attempt at humour, rather than judgement. Love to you.


      • hudsongodfrey November 11, 2013 at 8:31 am #

        Since humour is often cathartic I think we can see the comic possibilities of a head shaven woman in an amusing light.

        In the days that followed it might be curious to wonder how long it was before the deception wore off and people stopped deferring to the notion that she must be a cancer patient. A lesser person might enjoy abusing their assumptions….

        How funny it was or wasn’t when as the stubble came back in lesbians fancied the look she may have sported.

        Perhaps even the usual consternation among insecure superiors in a working environment, dreading strong opinions of any kind, that one of their number may have chosen to make some kind of political statement! Devastating possibilities in combination with a well chosen T-Shirt bearing just the right slogan could be hinted at….

        The possibilities to amuse and be amused are endless. Especially in a suitably elevated mood 🙂


    • Jennifer Wilson November 11, 2013 at 5:39 am #

      “to make a sin of omission is not an acceptable course of action for one aspiring to a properly examined life” In a nutshell, HG.


      • hudsongodfrey November 11, 2013 at 8:37 am #

        Ah yes a nutshell. I struggle with those and the need to set the proper context…..

        Doug has in the past been kind enough to offer me Pascal’s excuse….

        “I have made this letter longer–because I have not had the time to make it shorter”. –Blaise Pascal (1623-1662)


      • paul walter November 11, 2013 at 8:06 pm #

        But isn’t what is discussed more a question of a sin of emission?

        Good to see you about Jenny, perhaps you ended up engaging in that semester of heavy study you mentioned early in the year.
        The illness and death (?) of your ex partner I think rattled you severely and you are still working through the protected, painful adjustment process that comes of a genuine coming to grief.
        I’ve had much tolerance from people when I’ve “ventilated” at a bad time and I’d expect I’d celebrate your return overwhelmingly, rather than cavill on details..beleive it or not I worried about you and hoped you were doing well..
        With the event itself you were clearly offered a mansplanation not adequate.. I wonder, would he have reacted tolerantly if you had had an impulse-fling of your own (not the event described with the lawyer afterwards).


        • hudsongodfrey November 11, 2013 at 11:26 pm #

          As an aside, and not to be confused in any way with your opening line, I suspect ventilation is not the longer form of the term to vent. I always thought the meaning was taken from what a volcano does when it emits lava during an eruption. Though I guess it is also true that one is also airing a grievance at the time in other similar usage I recall connections between venting and bile.


  10. Elisabeth November 11, 2013 at 8:00 pm #

    This is such an evocative piece, one that calls for a personal response, and from me one that resonates with yours. I could say so much more but those I might implicate in my story are not dead yet. Thanks as ever.


    • hudsongodfrey November 11, 2013 at 11:29 pm #

      Surely whether they;re dead matters not so much as whether anyone knows where the bodies are buried 🙂


  11. doug quixote November 12, 2013 at 1:21 am #

    Shaving off your own hair to punish your husband! Such a female thing, I think.

    I once had a case where a couple broke up and the girl accused the boyfriend of hacking the hair off her horse’s tail!

    She actually persuaded the police to prosecute, and the fools brought the charge of docking a horse’s tail. The fucking magistrate convicted him (!) in spite of my submissions that docking a horse’s tail involves removing bone and drawing blood, neither of which had happened.

    Needless to say, on appeal the judge took about 5 minutes to have the charge dismissed.

    I digress!

    Thank you for that story (account?) Jennifer.

    A pity you are not looking . . . 🙂


  12. samjandwich November 12, 2013 at 11:42 am #

    “I understood that a human being can never be enslaved by another”. Ah see, if only I hadn’t held that attitude when I was a bit younger I might have had more success! But instead I felt the need to declare exactly what I was about to anyone who was vaguely interested [shakes head].


  13. helvityni November 12, 2013 at 3:41 pm #

    In my circle of female friends the litmus test of marital infidelity was hubby buying new underpants, not boring white Bonds, but experimenting satin(look) boxer shorts and moving towards the more smart Calvin Kleins…

    About infidelities on the female side, we kept mum, you know how there’s always one bitchy type in any group of women…our secrets were saved for the very best friends’ ears only…


    • helvityni November 15, 2013 at 11:31 pm #

      “Prime Minister Tony Abbott says he “deeply” regrets that an asylum seeker was given limited access to her sick baby, but won’t apologise “for what happens when people come to Australia illegally”

      I’m speechless….


  14. jo wiseman November 21, 2013 at 12:45 pm #

    The guy’s a class act. Appealing to your intellectual vanity over the passionate affair. Let me guess – before the sexual ball got rolling YOU had to pursue HIM while he was being accidentally seductive. Classic.


  15. paul walter November 22, 2013 at 4:20 pm #

    Wily bugger, Jo.


  16. Rose November 28, 2013 at 6:29 pm #

    “Dave had finally left his abusive wife of 9 years, and was about to move in with me, all of a sudden he got cold feet and just went off. I called Alex and within 2 days he was back, I don’t know what she did, but it worked and he is now living with me and we are expecting our first child and couldn’t be happier! without any doubts i can recommend him to anyone, you can contact him on his email address: drtakolovespells@gmail.com” Rose – Nottingham


  17. Darrell December 2, 2013 at 6:09 pm #

    Wow….. Thanks Jennifer for opening your heart & Soul to the world, offering your deep wisdom & insight to us all…Yes, that William Blake poem.. Wow… And, all this with my reading up & learning about James Hillman & archetypal psychology.. And, the Soul’s allegiance to the “Fallen World”.. as he puts it.. To reclaim all that has been marginalised.. Of course this is the call of the deep poetic Soul calling out to us all.. ie. To alll that who have developed the “ear” for hearing.. And, also with my watching a series of short You Tube videos with Hillman on the Senex & Puer archetypes, one talking specifically about “Fidelity“ relating this to the story of Dido & Aeneus.. at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2jMysQnFIXI&list=PLFDB2D6C9B464210F

    Bless you….


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  1. Down Under Feminists’ Carnival LXVII | Kiwiana (inked) - December 7, 2013

    […] “On infidelity” at No Place For Sheep […]


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