Every day I wake up, and for the first moments I feel peace. I have my family, and what a gift they are. My husband and my girls give me all the love I need.
And then I remember. I remember the feeling when I saw the first suspect text message between you and him. You said ‘I think I just need my yoga teacher back’. Good, I thought. We were not in a good place, for a range of reasons that you will never understand (despite what you think you know). But it looked as though you were backing off and I was prepared to stop digging and let things resolve themselves. I resisted every temptation to confront you both, threw as much love as I could at the situation, and focused on the future.
And we got on with our lives together. We bought a house and decided to have a baby. But then you started turning up at his classes again. Messaging and calling and offering him that special brand of attention a man falls for when he needs validation. The kind of attention a woman who has absolutely no stake in the game, no responsibilities with this man, no life to organise, or kids to parent, or bills to pay can give. For someone who hangs her hat on how intelligent she is, your strategy with my husband was remarkably cliched and transparent. Not to him, obviously, but I knew exactly what kind of person you were from the first time he told me about the student who had opened up to him after class that day.
I remember the feeling when I knew you had crept back in. The hidden messages on his phone. When I knew he wasn’t where he said he was. When he called you, drunk, at 3am because he was obviously trying to spend the night with you. I was 10 weeks pregnant at the time. When I knew you’d been in my home by the bottle of wine you left behind.
And I remember the feeling of my heart sinking to my stomach and then breaking in to a million pieces when, with my newborn baby in the next room, I saw his messages to you describing your apparent prowess in the bedroom. And that he missed you.
It didn’t matter that your affair had ended some months before. In that moment, my world changed forever. Everything looked different. So this is what it’s like, I thought. This is my life now. I can never not know this happened.
You have no way of understanding this now, but growing and carrying human life is the most amazing and most vulnerable time of a woman’s life. To know that you continued to sink your teeth in to my husband and my marriage when I was pregnant with our first child together makes me sick to my stomach. To know that it continued, and that you continued to pressure him to leave me, even after I had given birth to our baby girl, is uncomprehendingly evil. Not to mention the absolute disregard for the commitment he had made to me and his stepdaughter, who completely idolises him.
Regardless of what you think you know about me or my marriage, there is absolutely no way to justify your actions. You actually know nothing at all about us. You got a blinkered, biased view of things from the perspective of a complex man who was deeply hurt and scared, and who acted like a coward instead of dealing with his emotions head on.