It hurts when I pull back the curtains and look out my front window, but I want to see my family and to remind myself of the consequences of bad choices. My ex-husband lives across the street. His house has a pool. I can't refuse our boys to go there and have fun. We have no formal schedule of visits. My ex-husband and I talk frequently about what is on the schedule for the boys each day and decide who takes them where and when as well as who is feeding them and when. That's about all we talk about together.
I see the boys have started inviting girls over. Their testosterone must be peaking. They are showing off with their funny dives and big splashes. It appears to be working. The girls are giggling. Girls? They are only 13 or 14 years-old but their bodies look older. I hope Rob has had 'the talk' with the boys. Someone may need to have the talk with him. That fitness instructor, since she is over 40, she is an old woman to the boys, looks terrific in her bikini, if that's what it is. I am thinking of the old analogy to dental floss being larger than what she has on. Am I exaggerating? Probably. Do I sound jealous? Hell yes, I'm jealous.
Our kids technically live with me since I have primary custody, but I don't have a pool. They usually sleep and eat here. Most of their clothes are here. The boys are used to being at the house across the street. The family that previously lived there were close friends and had two children, a boy and a girl, about the same age as our boys. The kids practically lived at both houses. Misty and Carl James were close to being surrogate parents to our kids. More than one person thought Misty and Carl had four kids. Sound like we had a good life? We did. So, what went wrong?
The answer is: I became a slut. That is definitely not a statement of pride. It's just a simple fact. Now, I wasn't a slut for very long. Just long enough to ruin my life and hurt my family. It's taken many sessions of therapy to come to grasp with what I did and, more importantly, why I did it. Telling you my story is supposed to help me. Maybe it will help someone prevent them from suffering what happened to me and my family.
My name is Susan Lawrence. I was married to Rob Lawrence. We have two boys, David and Eli, now 13 and 14 respectively. I actually made use of my English Literature degree by working for a publisher as an assistant editor. Rob ran his own security business for homes and offices. We were married for almost 20 years although the first four years were spent seeing each other between deployments. He was a MP in the Army.
We had met on a blind date. I was attractive enough to get my own dates, but Amy needed someone for her boyfriend's friend. My girlfriend, Amy, was dating a MP who was trying to convince his buddy Rob to join up. Although Amy and her boyfriend did not wind up getting married, my friendship with Rob blossomed. Knowing he was about to join up, the future of our relationship was put on a fast track. We wanted to make the big decision one way or another before he had to ship out. We got married.
Rob and I agreed on most everything: politics, religion, children and fidelity included. The glow of marriage kept me from being tempted during the time I was waiting by myself even though I had several active suitors. Rob re-upped after his first two year stretch because of the re-enlistment bonus. It made a big difference in our ability to set up our household. It was hard on our relationship, but we made it.
Soon after Rob was discharged, we decided to start having children. I had been working for four years and he had a job with a home security company upon discharge. My firm was willing to let me work out of our home for the last part of my pregnancy and the first few months after. Before long, we had two little toddlers a year apart. Life was good, busy but good.
Once the boys were in school, I worked more at the office. When the security company Rob worked for decided to sell out to one of the bigger national firms, Rob started getting the idea that he could run his own security business. His father fronted him the start-up money. I was scared because of the financial risk, but I believed in my husband. His departure from his job was amicable and a couple of guys told Rob to call them when his business got large enough to need more staff.
We scrimped and sacrificed for about five years before the business really started taking off. Ironically, the impetus for the growth was the increased desire for equipment that allowed people to spy on their supposedly cheating spouses. I continued in my job. I loved it. Although I did not get many promotions at work, I did get nice annual raises. The editing business was strong as it seemed everyone had a book they 'had' to write. I loved to read, and it mattered to have my opinion valued. I made a lot of books better although I rejected a lot more than I made better. Now, I have to come believe that was when I started developing an inflated value of who I was vis-à-vis my husband.
Neither Rob nor I expressed any serious complaints about our life. Squeezing the toothpaste from the middle of the tube versus the end of the tube was about as serious an argument as we had. Our friendship, our sharing of chores, our finances, our parenthood duties, and our sex life was satisfactory to excellent. Since things were so well, we settled into a routine. I failed to realize how dangerous that could be.
The problem I had with Rob came very gradually. By the time we were taking each other for granted, my attitude had become increasingly negative: How come I am the only one washing the dishes? How come he or the boys get to choose where to eat out at? How come he never says sweet things like he did when he was courting me? How come I only get acknowledged on my birthday, Mother's Day, Valentine's, and Christmas? How come we always have sex the same way? These were some of the many ways I began denigrating my marriage. But I only presented my questions to myself. I never brought the issues up to Rob. In my mind, if he really loved me as much as I loved him, he would see what was wrong. HE would do something about it. Why was it just up to me to fix our problems? My resentment festered. I became depressed, but I kept performing my role in the house. I had a routine that I came to see as a rut I was stuck in. No one seemed to notice a change in me.
I turned more and more to my job for my happiness. When I was happy with my home life, I didn't think much of the personal compliments I got at my office. Now, I sought them out and treasured them. I started to dress more provocatively (I called it more stylish when my husband noticed my wardrobe change). Comments, looks, and flirting at the office increased and I loved it. Someone was paying attention to me, just me.
Then I made the decision that turned my life upside-down. Hal, my boss, and I were working on getting a book ready to publish. The deadline was almost impossible. We realized we would have to work late Thursday night to be able to submit the final manuscript on Friday. This was a legitimate working late scenario. One reason I didn't mind working late was that Hal was one of my strongest admirers and flirting partners. It didn't hurt he was a handsome man even though he was married. But, heck, so was I.
When we finished up, Hal exclaimed, "I'm afraid I have messed up your dinner plans at home."
"Don't worry. On Thursday nights, Rob has food, meaning pizza, delivered. He and the boys watch the college Thursday night football game. They don't even notice if I'm there or gone."
Hal got serious, "If you were my wife, I'd never not notice if you were there or not. Forgive my double negative."
I felt a jolt in my heart. I was flattered. I was turned on. I stumbled in saying, "Thanks. Sometimes I don't feel appreciated by my family." Why did I tell him that?
"Please let me take you to dinner to make up for you missing yours."
I agreed and we went somewhere not far away from the office. It was a seafood place and we went through a bottle and a half of wine before we decided we had to leave. The meal had gone by pleasantly. We told each other about our home lives and laughed about the things that only come up with teen and pre-teen kids. We both expressed some lack of spark with our spouses. I think we both realized the dangerous path we were taking, but we both kept walking down it.
