I Haven’t Cheated on My Husband… Yet

From the moment I met him, I knew he was the man of my dreams. It took a few years for him to feel the same way, but eventually, we went from best friends to husband and wife. He’s an amazing husband — he’s kind, nurturing, hardworking, and trustworthy.

We both have jobs that require us to have a lot of mutual trust, or there would be the potential for a lot of conflict. We’re not the kind of couple who snoops in one another’s phones or makes accusations. We know who we’re coming home to.

But, like all relationships, it isn’t perfect. It often feels like he’d rather be doing anything else than hanging out with me or our child. He works all the time, and when he’s not working, he’s sleeping or scrolling on his phone. I have to work very, very hard to get his attention.

But I love him. So much. I love our comfortable life and our nuclear family. I love the trust that we have.

On the occasion that another man shows interest in me, I’m quick to mention how happily married I am and walk away. Until recently…

I ran into an old friend — a younger, very sexy old friend. He told me how good I looked, looked at me like he would absolutely devour me if I let him, licked his lips, and asked for my number. Wedding band on, I grabbed his phone and put my number in. He didn’t notice the ring (or didn’t care), and soon we began flirting via text.

It would be weeks before I told him I was married.

When I did, it didn’t end the conversations. The texts went from flirty to dirty in an instant. I had portrayed myself as a particular sort of woman, and he was more than happy to follow that lead. It was like an out-of-body experience when my response to him wasn’t, “I can’t do this,” as it should’ve been, but instead was, “I’m glad I still have your attention.” I watched myself continuing to engage with him, knowing it was wrong, but somehow unable to stop.

I knew that it was because I am starved for attention, that I love feeling wanted — a feeling that, if we’re being honest, I’ve never once felt in my relationship. I feel loved, but not wanted. Every time he texts me, I think about that look in his eyes when he asked for my number, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

It’s not that I want to step out on my husband — I really am attracted to him. But having this attention from another man made a problem that was already bothering me even more glaringly obvious. What I really wanted was for my husband to treat me the way this man is.

So, I started sending flirty texts to the man I married. The responses I got were the typical, “What are we doing for dinner?” Even responding with, “I don’t know about dinner, but I have a plan for dessert,” didn’t capture his attention. I sent sexy photos. It didn’t work. I asked ChatGPT how to get my husband to pay attention to me. I tried everything it suggested. When he did notice, like the time I sat on his lap and whispered dirty things into his ear, he laughed a little but didn’t stop scrolling his phone. I flashed him, and he laughed. I seductively changed clothes in front of him, and he said, “Excuse me, I need to get by.” I started paying more attention to my looks at home, for him, and got “Why are you getting all dressed up?” I scheduled a time that my daughter would be away and made it very clear what I wanted to do with that time. He picked up the hint, but the activity was one-sided, lasted maybe 10 minutes, and was disappointing. Lying there next to him, I couldn’t help but think how hard I had worked for that teeny bit of attention and how many weeks it had taken for me to get him there next to me in this way. I started crying; I couldn’t help it.

I hadn’t even cheated on my husband yet, and my thoughts of infidelity had already hurt my relationship. It hadn’t changed the dynamic at all — it only opened my eyes to all the emotions I’d been repressing about myself, my marriage, and my sex life. It made me more desperate for my husband’s attention instead of just being grateful for the stable relationship. It made me realize how underwhelming my sex life is, despite having a man in my bed every night. It reminded me what it felt like to be wanted, to be sexy. It reminded me that the time left on the clock of being a sexual creature is passing by very quickly.

I’m well aware that the real problem here is that I don’t know how to feel sexy without the validation of a man, and that I haven’t learned how to love myself in a way that feels satisfying. While I still haven’t acted on it, I also haven’t closed the door with the other man.

I can easily convince myself that it would be okay to just feel, one last time, what an amazing no-strings-attached romp would be like. What if it’s my last chance before I settle into a life of sweet old-people-hand-holding style love? I can tell myself that “what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” or “happy wife, happy life.” I can tell myself that if I’m satisfied in that way, I can be more of the wife that he wants and less of the needy pick-me girl that I’ve become. I can convince myself that since there are no feelings attached, it wouldn’t be that bad.

But I honor the trust we have, and I don’t want to throw it all out the window for what I know would be a very good time. So, I haven’t cheated on my husband… yet.