Histori Personale

The 10 seconds that ended my marriage

The 10 seconds that ended my marriage

It's August in Northern Virginia, hot and humid. I still haven't showered from my morning run. I'm wearing my stay-at-home mom's uniform. I feel confident in this outfit. It doesn't hug any part of my body, allowing me to hide my physical failings.

In this outfit I can claim to be acceptable. So far, it has been enough that my husband is still willing to initiate sex with me once a month.

It's dinner time, so I'm busy in the kitchen cutting tomatoes and onions on the cutting board with the very expensive knives I got for Christmas.

He walked into the kitchen with a plate of hot burgers.

My instinct told me something was wrong. I followed him because I'm always the follower. I went to him, hugged him, and with my hands still on his shoulders, I looked him in the eye and said, 'Is everything okay?'

I know the answer. I always know the answer. I just didn't know what it would be this time. Is this forgivable? Can I fix it again?

"It's a woman from my past... We reconnected on our family trip to San Diego... We started talking... She makes me feel alive," he told me.

I could feel panic take over my body.

"Is it serious? Please don't do this. We can fix it. We can make it work. What can I do? How can I do it better? Please let me make our relationship better," I told him.

I have no pride. He knows that. This is who I am at my core - a desperate woman. I am ashamed. Frightened. Ashamed. Angry that I let it happen. This is my job. I created this. I could be better, but I'm not. I'm a loser.

Our marriage was built on fear and then thrived on it for 20 years.

When he proposed to me, he knew he would grant his dying mother's last wish - to experience being a grandmother in her lifetime.

I keep praying. He continues to be angry and disgusted.