I recently found out that my wife has been having an affair for the past five years. Five years. Half of our marriage. The part that stings the most isn’t just the betrayal, it’s that she feels almost no remorse. When we talked, she said it “just happened,” that she “needed something for herself,” and then she blamed me. She said I was emotionally distant, that I stopped making her feel wanted.
And here’s the painful part, I can’t completely deny it. Somewhere along the way, I got caught up in work, in being a dad, in just trying to keep everything afloat. I stopped paying attention to her the way I used to. So yeah, I can see how I contributed to the distance.
We have two young kids, and they have no idea what’s going on. They adore her. And despite everything, I can’t bring myself to blow up their lives. So I’m still here, sleeping in the same house, eating at the same table, pretending things are fine. Every day feels like I’m swallowing a little bit more of myself for the sake of the family.
I just don’t know what the right thing is anymore.
Your wife chose to cheat for five years. Not five days. Not one drunken weekend. Five. Years. That’s not a mistake — that’s a sustained campaign of deceit. You didn’t make her do that. You didn’t “cause” her to betray you. You may have contributed to the emotional distance in your marriage — fair. Relationships are two-way streets. But she drove her car off a cliff, and you’re standing at the bottom blaming yourself for not painting brighter guardrails. That’s not your fault.
Staying “for the kids” sounds noble, but it can easily turn into a slow emotional death. Kids don’t need a perfect family; they need parents who are emotionally healthy and honest. If they grow up watching two people coexist in quiet resentment, that’s what they’ll learn love looks like — walking on eggshells, silent suffering, avoidance instead of courage.
Right now, you’re trying to carry everyone’s pain — hers, yours, the kids’. But you can’t fix this if she doesn’t even think she broke anything. You can’t rebuild a house when the other person insists the wreckage is “fine.”
So here’s what I’d tell you if we were having a beer: stop trying to be the good guy who saves the marriage. Be the honest guy who saves himself. Go to therapy — alone, not with her — and figure out what staying or leaving actually costs you. Stop asking if you’re doing the “right” thing for the kids. Start asking if you’re doing the honest thing for yourself.
Because no kid deserves to grow up in a house where love has been replaced by guilt. And no man deserves to live his life in someone else’s shadow just because he’s afraid of what the light will show.