Is It Okay to Hate the Other Woman?

Is it okay to feel hate for the other woman?

Is it okay to verbalize your hate of the other woman?

Is it okay to verbalize your hate of the other woman to your husband with vehemence?




And my husband can go fuck himself if he doesn’t like it!

And for those who are asking themselves how I can possibly throw stones, I can, aimed directly at me. The fact is I hope my AP’s wife hates me. I fucking deserve it! I knowingly entered into an affair with a married man. I didn’t care about his wife. I only cared about ME. It was wrong and this is my penance, I suppose.

Anyway, I still hate Evil Bitch and I hope she gets hers really soon.

Thank you, this was a public service announcement.


Marriage Counseling Session #4

Today (Friday, May 23) I feel numb. Just walking around this morning like a zombie. My back hurts (thank you, Yoga), my head hurts and so does my heart.

Last night’s session started with an omen – a hail storm! Before we could get out of our cars to make our appointment with HippyDippy, the heavens opened up. Was it a sign? Not sure at that point. We were smiling, but nervous (always are at these sessions). My heart is actually racing right now thinking about it. I feel light headed, actually.

I’m actually having a hard time remembering everything that was said. My mind is a jumble.

HippyDippy asked how our last two weeks had been and J answered that it has been good. That we have been getting along really well. I then piped in that I agreed, but we had a rough Friday and Saturday last week.

I haven’t written about that, yet. So, here it goes:

We had a rough night last Friday while having sex. Evidently, I giggled and he took it wrong and it turned him off. I didn’t understand it. He basically turned off and went to sleep. I was left there wondering what I had done and why he went radio silent. I HATE going to sleep angry and distant. The next morning, he woke up early (guess he couldn’t sleep). I remained in bed for awhile because I was up half the night, not able to sleep myself. I came downstairs and grabbed a cup of coffee. He greeted me nicely, as he was on his laptop in the living room. I stood in front of him and said that I didn’t like what happened last night and that I didn’t know what was wrong. Once again, I’m the one that tries to make peace, even though it wasn’t my fault. Once again, I’m the brave person that faces the other. Once again, I speak first. He apologized and told me that he thought I was laughing at him and it turned him off. He recognized that it was ridiculous. I told him I would never laugh at him. I said I giggled because I was happy and having fun. He apologized again and I settled down to enjoy my coffee. So, that’s how the morning started, but for some unknown reason I wanted more. I wanted to dig a bit. Blame it on PMS. Blame it on a broken heart. Blame it on “her” return to work the following Tuesday…

I told him that I needed him to throw out all his Tshirts (remember my Tshirt post?) that he bought last year. The ones from NC (which was late June, about a month after he started texting her and flirting). I said that those shirts reminded me of her. That I remember the one shirt he wore when he came home from “shopping for a bike” that one Friday or Monday. That was the day they touched and kissed for the “first” time. I then said that all the bright shirts he bought because he hated all his clothes reminded me of her. He then went on defense and said that he didn’t want to go to NC again if it only reminded me of her. I said it was the week that he was texting with her. He challenged me and said, “Oh, so you think I was sexting with her then?” I said probably. He vehemently denied it. Said it was only texting. Oh, okay – got it, I guess I was a month off…so just texting, yeah, that’s okay, right? He then said it was ridiculous he had to throw out clothes. He never said anything about driving my old Beetle after I got a new car for the family even though that was the car “I screwed my boyfriend in.” I just stared at him. Okay, you are not still harboring resentment much? Oh, he let it all go, right?

I left the room and got dressed and went for a long walk. I had to get away from him. What a fucker. What an insensitive man. He still hurt and he was throwing out painful remarks (I’m a big girl and can handle what he dishes out). But, he “forgave me and didn’t think about it any more (my affairs) for years.” Yeah, right, honey. He was on the phone when I left. Didn’t notice me (again).

I came back about 45 minutes later. He was cleaning the kitchen and avoiding me. He got another phone call. After he was done with the call, he was back on his laptop. I stood in front of him one more time and said, “I want you to know that I don’t think it’s okay with what you said to me. Throwing that back in my face when you supposedly forgave me. That you never think about it anymore. That was hurtful and wasn’t okay.” He then said that he was sorry and I was right. But, he felt he had to defend himself. Some other things were said (which I don’t remember). He went into the kitchen and in a little while I went in and said, “Let’s call a truce. We are never going to agree on these points. It’s not worth fighting about it.” He agreed. We retreated to opposite corners. I went upstairs. I stood staring in the bathroom mirror for a while. I was still upset.

So, guess what I did? I stripped, put on a robe and went looking for my husband. He was in the basement cleaning up some things. I found him, grabbed his hand, dropped my robe and fucked his brains out.

Yup, I used the Vcard, ladies. When we can’t talk, we fuck.

I can say our weekend went much better after that. But, I always feel I’m the one seeking reconciliation. I’m tired and sad that it’s always me.

Back to yesterday’s session…

HippyDippy pursued the truce button. She asked why I offered it. I said that I realized we weren’t going to agree on anything at that moment. He wasn’t willing to so I thought it was best to leave it behind us. She thought that was good. I think I was just tired of hurting and not being heard or valued. I didn’t say that to HippyDippy or J. But, that’s how I felt/feel.

She asked for specific things that made things better. J responded that my words to him mean a lot. My texts were special to him. I said that he was wonderful on EB’s first day back at work and that he was forthcoming and reassuring. It put me at ease.

HippyDippy then asked J about my request about the shirts and what he thought about it. He said it took him some time to but he understood why I asked for it. He then said he got rid of all of them. I didn’t know that. I wasn’t shocked but I was pleased. He said he did it because he knew it would make me feel better.

I then spoke about Mother’s Day and how much it meant to me. HippyDippy kept saying, “So things sound good. Sounds like you are doing what you need to do.” For some reason, that disappointed me. She is no Freud. But, I sat still waiting to see where she would go.

Somehow the subject of the other woman came up and I said that this week has been tough. We have been anxious. Obviously, I was hoping she would return for one day, say she was quitting and would leave our lives forever. And then I added, “and of course, she would drop off the face of the earth. That’s my ultimate wish.”

I guess J didn’t like that comment. He said that I say that all time and that we all know how I feel. That I’ve said I hate her hundreds of times. I said that I think he was exaggerating quite a bit, that I only say it at these sessions and a few times before.  HippyDippy pursued my comments. I forget what she said, but I expressed that J has all the power in this situation. It’s his choice to continue working there and because she does, too, I’m threatened. My safety is threatened. The other woman is a direct threat to our marriage.

J then said that [EB] is a good person. She’s not evil (yes, I refrained from my evil laugh, everyone). I spoke up and said, “Well, she’s 50% responsible for the affair and yes, I do hate her.” He was mad. I then said that I felt he was defending her and likes working with her and I’m worried and scared. That all she has to do is make a comment and they are back to flirting and then more. His defense of her, to me, means that he still has feelings for her. That I’m the bad one for hating her. That I’m less that her.

HippyDippy came back into the conversation (oh, gee thanks, lady — about time). She said something (which I can’t remember) and we returned to the point that he has the power in this situation. That he refuses to get another job and that he would resent me forever if I made him do it. He countered that his greatest fear is that if he leaves a job he loves and we don’t work out, he has nothing. That’s his greatest fear? What about me walking out? I said that we spoke about this early after Dday and he said he knows he has to find another job. I guess he changed his mind.

HippyDippy asked if he was looking for another job. He said no. He loves his job. He can’t imagine finding another one he loves as much. Yup, knife to my heart.

We closed the session with her saying that it will take time for me to gain trust. That he has to know that. But we should keep doing what we are doing. Yeah, HippyDippy, not sure I agree with your advice.

So, everyone, here I sit in purgatory, in limbo, in twilight, in pain.

Happy Fucking Friday.

So far, so good

For those that follow my story, the Evil Bitch returned to work today. My husband has been absolutely wonderful these past three days and has been extra caring. I’ll have another post about Friday and Saturday of last week, which wasn’t so wonderful.

Anyway…I can tell he’s making progress, due to the marriage counseling, because he asked me what I need him to do to feel okay (inner dialog: besides the obvious? like firing her old bony ass?). I told him to keep doing what he’s doing and the rest we’ll just manage as the need comes up. He said it will be just a normal day, that she was just an employee (yeah, okay, honey – an employee with benefits, ffs).

So, when he got to the office, he texted me multiple times (has done so since Dday week). He then texted me that she arrived (do you hear trumpets? I don’t, I hear the theme of the Wicked Witch of the West from Wizard of Oz), he welcomed her back, asked about her injury, asked what she could do (in terms of movement) and that was it. Back to work he went.

So far, so good. And I decided I was going to be good to myself. Today, I’m working half a day (only two meetings, yay!), did some basic stretching, went on my morning walk (gorgeous day here). Then this afternoon I’m going to get my hair done and then go to yoga with my girlfriend. I’m going to breath deeply and remember that I’m surviving and will be better for it.

Yeah, Evil Bitch, welcome back to work. Take that and shove it up your old bony ass!



Text to the Other Woman (aka Evil Bitch)

I have written a text to Evil Bitch. It’s saved as a draft in my phone and someday (sooner or later) I will send it. It felt good to write it. Here’s what I wrote:

I want you to know that I hold you 50% responsible for flirting, texting, sexting, kissing, touching, blowing and fucking my husband. I will never forgive you for knowingly entering into and committing an adulterous affair.

As you go to work each day, I want you to worry IF TODAY IS THE DAY [her husband] finds out just what type of “wife” you are. Oh yes, you deserve a lot of pain for the pain you caused.

Have a GREAT day!

I may tweak it here and there. It feels good that it’s in my phone. Of course, I’m worried that one of my sons may see it so I have to move it where it’s not viewable.

Mother’s Day

I’ve read a few posts from fellow bloggers that didn’t have a very happy Mother’s day yesterday and for that I’m sorry. Many of us that are writing today suffered from infidelity last year and are still in the throes of reconciliation and healing. That day is a day of discovery for some, or a holiday that was either pre or post affair. It’s a big trigger day for most and many of us just wish we had a fast forward (or even better, a rewind) to go past the pain. I was feeling the same. A year ago this time, my husband started to flirt with the Evil Bitch and from this point on, I am triggering with timelines and remember back how he acted or what he said, etc.

For the last week, friends at work have asked me what my plans were for Mother’s Day and my response: I have no idea. Probably not much. I’ve heard no plans from my husband or sons. My hopes were low.

Saturday started early. J went to the grocery store to buy breakfast for the weekend (fruit, eggs, bacon, etc.). Later that afternoon we  met with another kitchen designer/developer and dealt with the shock of the $$$ for the remodel. J asked if I wanted to go out for dinner that night or stop at one of the local shopping outdoor malls (he used to buy me jewelry from a nice shop there). I said that it was up to him and that whatever he wanted to do was fine with me (in other words, I didn’t want to exert any pressure on him). We ended up buying food for a nice BBQ and spent a quiet evening at home relaxing.

The next morning, J woke up a bit earlier than I did and when I came downstairs he had my coffee ready. The sun was out, birds were literally singing out every window and the house was quiet. I was expecting the traditional homemade breakfast by him, with minor help from the boys. However, I was pleasantly surprised when he asked if I wanted to go to what is called Walkway Over the Hudson. It’s a rail bridge that was redesigned as a pedestrian bridge. It was on my list of “To Do’s” and I jumped at the idea and said, “YES!” He told me to quickly get changed and we would leave even before the boys woke up. I was so excited! When I was dressed in my comfortable workout clothes, I came downstairs and noticed a card waiting for me. It was lovely and heartfelt and perfect.

We left and went in search of a place to grab breakfast. Every place we stopped at had a line out the door. We decided to just get to the trail and figure out food after. Just at the opening to the park, there was a quaint café that seemed perfect. It was! Delicious organic breakfast with coffee a few bottles of cold water and we were ready to go!

The walk was really a lovely “stroll” and it was filled with mothers and their families. Every type of dog you can imagine, too! The demographics varied and as a major people watcher, I was in my element. Amazing tattoos, shoes, ridiculous heels (it’s about 1.5 miles each way across the river), loud, quiet, young, old, training wheels, scooters, wheel chairs with Love You Mom balloons, women with big hats, men with baseball caps. Remember I said we saw every type of dog? Largest = Bloodhound, smallest = Chihuahua, tied with Yorkie. Best pet award went to a Goth Guy walking his ferret. Yup, no joke. Too funny. Yeah, it was awesome. J and I giggled and held hands, stole kisses throughout each direction.

We got a text from my youngest, K asking where were we and when would be home. We were flippant and snarky and said NEVER! But, being responsible parents, we did tell him when. J and I were curious why he was asking specifics and I was hoping for the best!

I grabbed J’s hand on the ride home and told him that this mother’s day was perfect and that no gift would be better than spending an awesome day with him. I loved dating my husband and I felt as though we got our grove back. He beamed at me. It was just the right thing to say and it was true, from my heart to his.

About an hour or more later we got home. Both of my sons were awake and smiling. The kitchen was clean, and I mean CLEAN! and K made my favorite Guacamole and Salsa for an afternoon snack. I put my feet up, poured myself a glass of cold white wine and took a minute to be thankful. It was delicious and it couldn’t have been better. I told the boys that it meant the world to me what they did for me and I loved them. They were so pleased with themselves (rightly so). J then started preparing dinner, his homemade Chicken Parmigiana with fresh bread and salad. We ate later and relaxed watching movies and cuddling on the couch. J got this day right and all my worries and fears for how I would be treated on this Hallmark made holiday were dissolved.

I went to bed feeling tired, blessed, loved and in love. It was a wonderful feeling that I hope keeps building and never leaves me.

Marriage Counseling Session #3

It’s morning, windows are open and the rain is falling. It feels peaceful and I’m soaking it in while I drink my morning cup of courage.

What a difference 12 hours makes in a marriage.

We both had felt good prior to the news of the bitch returning to work in two weeks. Then he shared the news and I’ve been thrown back into that scary place where I doubt everything, I doubt us and I doubt him.

The session was a bit tough because I was reading his body language, listening to his answers and I was dismayed and nervous. He said that he has to gauge my mood each day because I go into “the doldrums” and he doesn’t know how to talk to me. That hurt, in how he referred to my depression. I honestly am not a basket case. It made me feel bad about being sad. I can’t help it and, to be honest, I really should be a bunny boiler, right? I mean, for fuck’s sake! He’s so lucky that I am not a complete psycho about this situation!

I decided I wasn’t going remain silent, so I spoke up (yes, you can cheer, ladies). I said that I felt as though I have been paying for my past sins and he hasn’t let me forget them. No doubt, that’s my own personal hell I’ve created myself because I did commit adultery! HippyDippy (our therapist), asked in what way was he making me feel that way? I replied that he has compared how he forgave me and how he never made me feel bad for my affairs 14 years ago and that I should do the same for him. Of course, hubby challenged that and said he only did that right after last October’s Dday because he was deflecting blame. Yeah, thanks, but the damage is done. It’s now a scar that is deeply burned into my heart. I won’t forget that anytime soon.

He was pissed off. He didn’t like being portrayed as a bad person. Sorry, honey, you WERE a bad person! I read his reaction spot-on and said the following: “For almost 30 years, you were a truthful, honorable man and last year, you pretty much lied about everything and broke my trust. It’s our reality. I know you don’t like being portrayed this way. But, it’s the truth. Through everything, you were someone I could count on as honest. Now, I don’t have that trust in you, yet. And that’s just how it is. I want you to regain my trust. That is one of my wishes.”

We then focused on EB and her return and what that means for our relationship. I said she’s still a threat to it and my feeling safe. Pure and simple. HippyDippy asked how should hubby tell me about EB. I said that I need to hear her name in his work stories to the point I become desensitized to her. I said that when he doesn’t mention her or say that she was at work, etc., I would think he’s hiding something from me. That there’s more to the silence. I would then obsess and think the worst. His reaction was he chose not to say things about her because he knew it would upset me and he didn’t want to cause me more pain. I acknowledged that, but I also think he doesn’t talk about her to save his ass. My pain is painful to him and he doesn’t want to deal with a sad wife. Sorry, but I can’t help that, honey. You broke my heart! You did this to me. And by you continuing to work at that company, it’s like salt in my wound.

I did say that I appreciated his consistent reinforcement that I’m the one for him and his undying love for me. That is helping and I need it.

We then talked about a few other things. I asked him a question if he actually knew what I did in my job? The reason why I asked that is my fear of not having deeper conversations about our lives, instead of just talking about schedules, kids, etc. I’ve felt the awkward silence more and more and trying to emphatically communicate with him that he needs to talk to me. Ask me questions! Get to know what I do and what I think. But, he’s just gun-shy that those types of conversations would lead him into the uncomfortable realm of his affair, etc. It made me think of PablosWife’s post about losing her best friend from the other day (great friggin’ post, you should read it). It scares me that we’ll be that couple in restaurants that are there just to eat and not enjoy each other. No thank you! I’m in a marriage that is a relationship that is based on friendship and love. Not a business arrangement! I want more. I want more of him. I feel his absence physically and emotionally. I told him that. I think that was eye-opening for him. It felt good to express my fear. It felt good for him to hear me!

HippyDippy closed the session with advice that we must keep doing what we are doing. Finding happiness and working toward more open communication.

I left feeling exhausted. Just a bit numb from the raw emotion.

We went home and ate dinner, decompressed for a bit and when we were alone, he actually said he understood me better with what I said and he was glad we went. I was amazed but kept my cool. I want to encourage him to keep opening up to me!

We went to bed and I woke up at 3am (the witching hour) and was wide awake for a few hours. Thank goodness for you ladies on the other side of the world and your posts…it gave me something to read! I finally decided to try to get some sleep and cuddled into his warm embraced and felt at peace. Then the thunderstorm hit but it was soothing. Cool, calming rain, a few lightening streaks and a rumble to wake us with the dawn.

He brought me coffee after his shower and then hugged me and said that he is really happy we are going to therapy. He likes that HippyDippy is leading us through a process of discovery and understanding. He liked that he now knows what I need when EB returns in terms of his communication and openness. He has tools to cope and understand!

Wow…it was a turning point for us. I feel hopeful. He does, too. After he got to work, he texts me (it’s our “thing” since Dday, to keep connected and to declare how much we love each other). I wrote back the following:

J, it means the world to me that you are getting something out of our counseling sessions, too. I was so worried that you would hate them and therefore blame and hate me.

I feel a sense of hope for us if we just keep on talking.

Than you for trying..x

I love you!

He just called me to tell me how much my words mean to him and that he loves me. He didn’t want to write that in a text (his own admission to improve our communication by TALKING to each other and not relying on text as a crutch).

Yeah, I have hope, people. Really for the first time in a very long time. Let’s just hope it keeps growing.

The Bitch is Coming Back

May 20th – can’t wait!

Yup, Evil Bitch loves her job so much that she wants to return after being on medical leave for over two months.

Hubby dropped this morsel in my lap last night. I have to give him credit that he spoke to me about it and didn’t text me this information. He said that he only loves me, there is only me. She’s just an employee. (an employee whore with benefits?)…whatever.

Yeah, and there was only me last year and yet he chose her, remember? I feel a bit numb. I knew this day was coming but I honestly wished she would just fuck off and get her own life.

The timing of this information is great because tonight we have our third marriage counseling session!

So, as I get ready to leave for the office, I am planning on being a little bit good to myself by hitting a yoga class right before our session. Perhaps I’ll be centered and at peace and not totally lose it?

I hate her. I hate this situation. I hate that he brought this pain into my life.


When I felt my heart actually break…

I can actual pinpoint the moment my heart broke. Can you?

It was at 1:13pm on October 15 at a local Wendy’s fast-food joint.

I asked to meet my husband for lunch. It was day after Dday. We hand’t spoken since my confrontation the night before (7pm). We spent a fitful night, my balling, him holding me. I woke up numb and pissed. I needed to know a few things. I wrote questions down.

He texted back and suggested we meet at 1pm. I arrived at 12:30pm. I sat and hoped he would show up early. He didn’t. He pulled in about 1:03pm. I was hurt that he didn’t want to see me sooner. He was nervous. I was nervous. I had a notebook with me. We ordered our food and quickly sat down.

Let me set the mood. Prior to meeting, we texted back and forth and he ranted back that he realized that “this was difficult for me” but he can’t allow me to scrutinize his entire workday. Yeah, okay, honey. Just continue to work with the whore and I’ll just go about my day without a care in the world!

So, while he picked at his food, I opened my notebook and asked if he wanted to attend counseling with me. He didn’t want counseling at that time, but if I wanted it, he would go. I then asked would he want a male or female counselor. He didn’t care, didn’t matter. It was such an uncomfortable conversation for obvious reasons. I literally started to shrink and die while sitting at that grimy table, staring at my notebook with hastily written questions. I felt my heart break. I lost my breath. I felt as though time stopped.

In a small voice, I asked if he would like us to take a break and for me to leave for awhile. He said no, very quickly. But, at that moment, I thought about going to my sister’s in Florida for a few weeks. That I wanted space and time to process all this. To grieve. I then told him that I wanted us to work but I was scared he didn’t. I told him that I was there at 12:30, hoping he would come earlier as a sign he wanted us to work. He said that he couldn’t leave because he had to work and wait for everyone to get back from their lunch. Yeah…okay. He only had 30 minutes for lunch and needed to get back (or wanted to get back? to her?)

I just grabbed a cup of coffee and trying to understand why my heart broke. I think it was because I felt as though there wasn’t any hope at that moment. I felt his anger toward me (yeah, classic, right?). He hated sitting at that table. I was meek and mild. I was NOT my usual self. I was broken. Pure and simple. Broken. It was almost an out of body experience. I didn’t recognize myself. Who was this woman? Professional person, mother of two, wife of 24 years. Who was this chick? I didn’t recognize her nor like what I saw.

I decided I had enough and said that this wasn’t going well and that I was going to go home. I got up, collected my things and walked out on him and to my car. He followed me. I didn’t want that. I wanted to get out of there. I was starting to cry. My throat was closed up. He held my door open and said that he would answer my questions, that I deserved at least that. 

Yeah, I deserved “at least that.”

What to do with all this time I have on my hands? WHAT???

I’m bored.

It’s been almost 7 months since I caught him cheating by looking at the cell phone bill.

  • Every day, some days, every 10 minutes, since, I have checked the cell phone bill for the Evil Bitch’s phone number.
  • I purchased a premium account for reverse phone look up.
  • I’ve researched everything about the Evil Bitch that I could.
  • I trolled her FB page (never ever posted or messaged her).

Since February, she hasn’t contacted him via his cell (she’s been out of work). I don’t know if she’s called him at the office (he says no).

Frankly, I’m bored, people! How does a person come down from all this super heightened awareness, private investigator, spy-like activities? My brain has been so over-stimulated, on call, like a new mother waiting for the newborn to cry, sleep deprived, and adrenaline saturated, waiting for the other shoe to fall.

I find myself not checking his usage details – just forgetting. This is new. However, I recognize it’s because she’s not at work. That may change if/when she returns. Let’s hope her leg falls off, people! HELL YEAH!

But for now, I’m a bit bored! So, what do I do with this extra time? Well, I actually get my REAL job done! Or, I go for another walk in between conference calls. Or, I get on the floor and do some yoga when I work from home. Or I check on your blogs 😉

I’m not comfortable to say that I no longer have the compulsive NEED to check on him. I think that’s in a temporary lull. But, I feel like it’s less and less.

Is this what an addict goes through? Withdrawal? The high is addictive. The adrenaline to see she texted him and wondering what it said and having to wait for him to come home so I could look at the message. Even better, he would call me if he got a text from her (later on in our reconciliation) so I wouldn’t freak for the entire day.

I need to replace this boredom with REAL, personal productivity.

Anyway, just something I noticed about myself over the last week or so…

The T-shirts



My husband is a T-shirt and jeans or shorts kind of guy. Last summer, he bought about six new T-shirts. It’s his thing when we are on vacation to buy a bunch of cheap T-shirts.

He bought three while we were in NC last summer at the beach. Then, he bought more a month or so later. He NEVER shopped for himself EXCEPT while on vacation. I thought that odd when he said he was going clothes shopping because he hated his clothes. Let’s be clear…I ALWAYS did the clothes shopping because he hated to do it. All of a sudden, he bought three more.

They are colorful (I’m not against the colors). They are different from all the other T-shirts he’s bought in the past.


That was last August. Last August he touched her for the first time and kissed her, while pretending to shop for a bicycle (another out of the blue shopping trip…he’s not owned a bike since he was a kid!). I know that he did that because he wrote it in the timeline letter. I remember that day because something he acted differently. When he got home he gave me an excuse why he was delayed and how expensive the bikes were and he didn’t like any of them.

He wore one of those T-shirts–the turquoise one.

He wore it to work today.

He doesn’t know that I associate those shirts with his affair.

I want to burn all those shirts.