I Found My Husband in Bed With Another Woman and Wrote About It

Here’s what I gleaned from your dozens of comments.

By

Linnea Hardwick

 
Published July 25, 2024
gif photo illustration of ethel cheating article on laptop screen covered by multiple reader comments
Ethel Staff

The 125 honest and insightful responses I received to my adultery article were eye-opening, and sometimes quite painful to read. As you may recall, I was the writer who found her spouse of 40 years with another woman, in our bed.

And I stayed married to him. For our children, our grandchildren and because so much of our history is tangled together — he was my college sweetheart. And I love him, though this twist in our marriage brought a lot of doubt, darkness and fury. This reader agreed with my choice when she wrote: “I would rather be in a family that works out problems instead of walking out on them.”

I wanted to fix us, not lose us. The scariest part of witnessing this unthinkable scene in our bed that led to discovering an avalanche of lies was that I felt out of control. My life literally had turned upside down. The optimistic view I expressed in my article was described as “over-the-top justifying to stay in this marriage," by one skeptical reader. Then came this wise comment: “Love is messy and brutal but so worth it.”  

Very messy, and really, really sad. How could I still love this untrustworthy man? The next two comments spoke directly to the answer:

"Counseling, accountability and forgiveness are awesome steps to take.”

“Walk your own path."

And, I did.

Another reader called enduring a cheating spouse “the worst betrayal of my life." Others judged me harshly for being weak, like in this comment: “Strength would have been to leave the cheating worm and forge a life for herself and her children." This may all be true — I was not that kind of strong, though the path I chose also required a lot of strength.

One reader asked pointedly, “Why? Behaviors are a result of childhood wounds.” Dissecting my husband’s unhappy childhood was an exhausting theme in our marriage. But perhaps it gave me the understanding that his actions were not solely directed at me. His risk-taking appetite flew from flying his ultralight in stormy weather to our bed.

Shaped by his absent father, his mother’s three marriages and consecutive stepfathers, he called himself a maverick. My college-girl attraction to a maverick is sharply different than being tethered to a maverick as a senior citizen.

One reader shared that she “could not stay married because I couldn’t trust him — then I had 15 years alone after our divorce.” As I expressed in my original essay, the loneliness did color my decision — as did our joint finances. “Staying for financial reasons, length of a relationship, or children is settling,” scolded a writer. I do admit this marriage is far from a dream scenario but I am grateful to be settling into our roles as grandma and grandpa.

Many comments addressed the layers of loss — broken trust was a dealbreaker for some. I stressed the importance of keeping my family together. This reader agreed: “Maybe this is why Hillary Rodham Clinton didn’t leave Bill — you have to realize what you would lose and what you would gain.”

Many stated flatly this sentiment in their comments: “Adultery is a sin and a reason for divorce.”

Forever faithful is hard — so we underscore it in our wedding vows.

“I take thee to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'til death do us part…”

I have kept my promise for 43 years of marriage. I still am, until death do us part. I’m keenly aware of what the word “commitment” entails.

Some readers weighed in on women’s new economic independence and our society’s abandonment of outdated stigmas about divorced women. “It seems so last century when women were forced to stay because they were dependent,” said one about my choice.

“Economic independence allows women to leave if they don’t want to stay,” noted another.

Our joint incomes make us able to help our children and grandchildren. This was a huge factor in staying.

This reader corroborated my choice: “The overriding goal of placing our children’s welfare first became my goal."

No matter what course you take, the children will be harmed by a difficult marriage like mine or one that ends in divorce. I was devastated years later learning from my sons how hurt they were when I thought I was protecting them. One reader remembering her childhood, concurred with these heartrending comments, “As a child I was aware my father cheated and lied often and it damaged me. My mother stayed for many of the same reasons that the author did."

These two comments particularly resonated with me: “Sorry you have joined this club that no one wants to join” and “We chose to learn from the challenges and find the silver lining."

When I discovered my husband’s numerous affairs, I mined for silver. We moved to the countryside and worked to repair the bond with long hikes, big fights and therapy. It was hard. Brutally hard.

I agree with the reader who commented that “loving relationships can evolve and be sustained even with hardship and heartache.”

Then came this slam from an irate reader: “It is intolerable that this woman stayed. None of her excuses are enough to justify her staying.”

“Intolerable to whom?” replied another.

I am so fortunate that our sons are thriving in their marriages. They learned from their father — that saying “I do” doesn’t mean “I may," it means “I will.” Our family is working toward total forgiveness with their father and my husband. He made us suffer. He taught our sons a lot about what never to do. And he taught me that the college boy who instantly stole my heart is someone with whom our love is still growing.

Thank you to all the readers who responded to my article with your own broken and healed hearts.

Would you ever stay with a spouse who cheated on you? Let us know in the comments below.