I met my wife about three years ago through a mutual friend. Early on, she told me she worked at an Asian massage parlor, and when things got serious, I asked what exactly she did there. I’m not naïve—I know what usually goes on at those places. She admitted to doing hand jobs, but swore that was it.
Despite my reservations, I stayed. She’s beautiful, the sex was amazing, she could cook, and outside of her job, she was wonderful. But that “one thing” never sat right with me.
A year later, we got married. Not exactly a fairy tale.
A couple months ago, her AMP closed and she moved to another shop. Curious—and honestly, suspicious—I looked up her new workplace on review sites. The place is known for full-service sex. I couldn’t understand how she could be working there and not doing that. When I confronted her, she finally admitted the truth: she’s always been a full-service sex worker.
I’m gutted. I thought I had made peace with her doing hand jobs, but now I find out my wife has been having full sex with random men for money. She doesn’t see the big deal—says we love each other and we’re great together—but I can’t just accept this.
I’m not sure what to do, but I’m completely devastated.
You married someone whose job crossed every emotional and physical boundary you weren’t okay with—and instead of listening to that inner alarm, you stuffed it down and told yourself to suck it up. Why? Because she was beautiful? Because the sex was good? Because she could cook?
Man, let me be blunt: you didn’t marry a partner—you married a fantasy. And now reality’s kicked in the door and punched you in the mouth.
Here’s what’s actually happening: you betrayed yourself. You knew the truth—or at least enough of it to walk away—but you stayed, because you were more afraid of being alone than being lied to. And now you feel gutted, not just by what she did, but by the fact that you ignored the giant blinking red lights for three years straight.
Let’s also talk about this: she lied to you. For years. She built a relationship with you on deception. She only came clean when you found the receipts. That’s not love. That’s not honesty. That’s not a partnership. That’s survival mode. That’s “tell the truth only when I’m caught” mode.
And if you’re asking, “Is this marriage salvageable?”—then I’ll give you the hard truth: Not unless she does some serious work on herself, and you do some serious work on why you chose this situation in the first place.
You need to grieve what you thought this relationship was. You need to look in the mirror and ask, Why did I accept less than what I wanted or deserved? Why did I trade my values for comfort and fantasy?
And then? You need to make a decision.
Because here’s the deal: You can’t unknow this. You can’t shove it back in the box and pretend it doesn’t matter. That pain you feel in your gut every time you look at her? That’s your soul telling you this ain’t it.
And listen, you’re not broken. You’re not dumb. You’re just a man who loved someone and hoped it would work out. But hope isn’t a strategy. Truth is. Boundaries are. Self-respect is.
So stand up. Get counseling. Call in some trusted friends. Get out of this fog and start rebuilding your life with honesty, courage, and clarity.
You deserve peace. You deserve truth. And you deserve a relationship built on something real—not fantasy, not manipulation, not secrets.
You’ve got this.