My husband of 27 years was cheating with a man, So I allowed him to join our marriage – 54-year-old woman reveals

A 54-year-old woman has revealed the live changing decision she made after finding out her husband of 27 years was cheating on her with a man.

Below is her story;

My toes clenched the cold stone at the pool’s edge. Stuart, my husband, walked carefully on the water, smiling. My husband of 27 years fully understood why I disliked swimming.

We belonged to the neighborhood swim club for most of our children’s childhoods. On occasion, I would wade in to play with the kids, or just sit by the pool’s edge.

They could cannonball off the diving board and splash around with their friends while I cheered them on. But I didn’t join in.

But this night was special. It was hot, and our Airbnb had a gorgeous pool overlooking Napa Valley vineyards and hills.

We had spent the last 18 months trying to rebuild intimacy after our marriage had essentially burned down. This weekend felt like a celebration of that work.

To my dismay, I discovered my husband was having an affair just before the 2017 holiday season. With the twist that he was cheating on me with someone else.

My husband is queer, and while we taught our children that love is love, I never imagined it would be me who was queer. The weeks that followed were harrowing, confusing, and sad, but also lovely.

Stuart assumed that if I found out about his affair, I would abandon him, his kids, friends, community. But I saw shame, confusion, and pain in this man I had known for half my life. So I chose to work with him to find a solution.

Until I found myself in one, I had no idea what a mixed-orientation marriage was. To his knowledge, Stuart had never heard of the Kinsey scale, which views sexuality as a spectrum. To find out if he was gay or not, and what this meant for him and for us, we decided he needed time to date.

My best friend’s ex-wife and I could have a big gay family if Stuart was gay. He asked me to help him create his online dating profile, and I sent him articles on gay dating advice. Stuart removed his wedding ring in February 2018 and gave it to me. He then moved to a nearby city to explore.

But in reality, my marriage was already over. Achieving happiness, rather than simply saving the marriage, became my primary goal. I had to work hard to truly love myself more than our marriage. So I helped Stuart pack his suitcase.

But I had low self-esteem and didn’t think I was smart enough (even more so since learning my husband was having sex with a 25-year-old ex-model).

I’d sought self-worth through co-dependency to excess. So, while Stuart dated, I worked on myself. His infidelity tapped into my own childhood traumas of not being loved or good enough, as well. I feared abandonment, deception, judgment, and martyrdom.

I started meditating and reading Buddhist books. I also started daily exercise and more serious yoga practice. Yoga has often been my lifesaver.

On the mat, I could get out of my head no matter how bad my day was or how bad Stuart was. Of course, I was in therapy, of course (with Stuart and also on my own).

Slowly, I began to dismantle my defenses and investigate the roots of my issues. I started loving myself and dealing with my own crap. Not for the faint of heart, I assure you. This was my most difficult task.

Stuart had decided by mid-year that he was bisexual and wanted to stay married to me, but with an open marriage. Our ethical non-monogamy marriage agreement included rules about how often they could see each other, how long they could text, and other expectations.

This was a risk I wanted Stuart to take, but I also wanted our marriage to thrive. We weren’t sure it could be done, but we wanted to try.

So we did that, and we agreed to prioritize our couple time and our marriage above everything else. That meant more sex, more date nights, and new daily practices to improve our relationship’s communication, honesty, and openness.

We felt like we were working at warp speed on ourselves, our relationship, and Stuart’s developing sexuality.

His therapist called our situation and our goals a “powder keg.” And sometimes things blew up: Stuart’s shame or my fear. We had some epic arguments when we spiraled together.

“No mud, no lotus,” says a Buddhist proverb. In order to bloom, the beautiful lotus must first emerge from the muck. All of this pain was a gift to help us grow, so I had it framed and a tiny lotus tattooed on my foot.

When Stuart got a boyfriend, “Marriage 2.0” began. The men he dated became friends, and we even went on vacation together. Even so, I faced my challenges with the help of therapy and yoga (and more therapy, and more yoga).

Then a shift occurred. I focused on Stuart’s sexuality, anxieties, boyfriends, work stress, and fears. I knew I needed more as I continued to work on myself.

I finally told Stuart why I don’t go into pools 18 months after we started this journey together.

We were on a family vacation when I was 7 and we went to the resort pool. To my dad’s delight, my brave little sister jumped, dove, and cannonballed into the water. My turn came. In the distance, my father clapped and smiled. What would happen if I jumped? I stood there, staring at him, staring into the Holiday Inn waters, paralyzed by fear.

Then my family started teasing me. We joked instead of offering genuine emotional support, but I was humiliated and shamed nonetheless. My family’s opinion of me had dwindled.

The story brought tears to Stuart’s eyes. So I didn’t tell him. “I am not leaving,” he said sweetly. Here I am. I’ll find you. It’ll be fine.”

So I jumped, looking up at the beautiful evening sky and Stuart’s smile. I awoke to cry. I felt good. I wept as I hugged Stuart. So free and strong. I was free.

I jumped out five times to make sure it stuck. That’s when I let go of my fear.

Now I do it metaphorically. This has included a sexy threesome with Stuart’s insanely hot boyfriend and a few trysts just us two (which Stuart approved, of course). Now I teach yoga. To prove my worth, I no longer work 12 hours daily. And recently, I’ve opened my side of our union. I’m 54 and I enjoy casual sex.

Nothing is guaranteed. Change is the only constant in life. In spite of our deep love, I doubt our marriage will endure. My toes will be on the edge of the pool, ready to jump in, wherever I go now that I know what I’m doing.

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