THHWAAACK!!
I slammed the garage door so hard it shook our wedding photos hanging on the wall behind me.
I silently seethed down the hall to our bedroom, where I could blow off some steam.
What!? He wants a break to pursue other relationships, after everything we’ve been through?! Who in the fuck does he think he is, Ross Gellar?! What husband says that to his wife of fifteen years?! What the actual fuck?!
Clearly, we had bigger fish to fry than that one time I sucked a stripper’s d*ck for fifteen seconds at my Bachelorette party fifteen years ago.
I am coming back to this story a year and a half later. I’m still disgusted but for a much different reason the second time around.
“The catalyst to all this was my husband’s honesty. It’s fucked up how it all unraveled. I’m fucked up for not telling him the truth before we got married. I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to leave the kids and me fourteen years later.” — Me, 2019
Oh, Gawd, the amount level of toxic fog (fear, obligation, and guilt) seeping through my computer screen as I re-read my story made me cringe. And then puke shortly after that.
Today is the day where I take full responsibility (more healthily than I did the first time), tell you unapologetically what really happened (behind closed doors), and then let that shit go.
First, I’d like to go back and thank everyone who read, commented, sent me private notes, and supported me through the revelation of one of the rawest stories I’ve ever told on here.
Thank you, Munish Goyal, Lanu Pitan, Corinna See, Tania Caan, Megan Benson, Joe Duncan, CJ Edwards, Lola Down, Agnes Louis, J. Matthew Peabody, Michelle Brown, Katlyn Gallo, Mike D., and Quy Ma for your warm virtual bear hugs, authenticity, and unclouding my veiled vision. It turns out, every single connection I made after publishing that story shaped a solid springboard for me to plunge deep into the uncomfortably cold waters of being honest with myself.
What I Will Take Responsibility For
I was twenty-two years old, about to marry the first guy I had ever had sex with, and drunker than a skunk swimming in a barrel of whiskey. I was bursting with unexplored sexuality and got caught up in the moment.
I was also selfish and put myself in a situation where I knew I would lose control. If I’m completely honest with myself (and you), I wanted to lose control that night.
I made a mistake, vowed to change my behavior, recommit, and never put myself in a situation like that again. It was a gargantuan lapse in judgment, and I am 100% accountable for my behavior that night.
What Really Happened (Behind Closed Doors)
My ex-husband had been stalking my Medium account for months before publishing my stripper story. (I wrote a story about that too.)
You see, back fifteen years ago, I confessed to my soon-to-be husband that I messed around with the stripper at my Bachelorette party, and we kissed.
However, I did NOT give him the full details of my tongue in his mouth and his d*ck in mine. Long story short, an intense 2 am conversation later; I confessed the entire narrative to my ex that night after he pressed me for more details from one of my previous articles.
He was pissed, and rightfully so. But as the mother of his children and the woman who dedicated her entire existence to her family, I certainly did not deserve to be called a “d*ck-sucking whore” for a mistake I made fifteen years ago. Especially since the timing of it all, as you’re about to find out, seemed a little too serendipitous to my husband’s recently expressed wants and needs in our marriage.
I was filled with unbelievable remorse, and heaps of shame piled on top of that heaviness. I often wonder if I strived to be such a good mom and wife because of the extreme guilt I felt for what happened at my Bachelorette party that night as a way to make up for it.
It’s definitely a possibility.
I felt obligated to roll around in those scummy emotions, i.e., write publicly about it after that gruesome 2 am conversation.
Days later, I published “I Cheated On My Husband A Week Before I Got Married” while I hung my head incredibly low for ruining my marriage.
When I write, “I don’t want to do any more damage than I already have,” it tells you how well I was doing mentally.
I was spinning.
Tonight, I tell you unapologetically and without fear of repercussions that I wrote this story after my ex-husband told me he wanted an open marriage.
But wait, there’s more.
He invited one of his girlfriends over for drinks, to meet my kids, and for a potential threesome. I was somehow the bitch for not agreeing to his plan after two kids and fifteen years of monogamous marriage.
His reaction to my reckless interaction with the stripper threw me for a loop because six months prior, he had been trying (hard) to convince me that an open marriage is what we needed to reconnect and take our relationship to the next level.
At first, his polyamorous “confession” seemed heartfelt and a we’ve-been-together-for-a-long-time-people-change-YOLO sort of thing. I, of course, had empathy for how “transparent” he was with me. But there was something about his presentation that didn’t feel good in my heart of hearts.
Maybe it was the back and forth between his proclamation of polyamory and monogamy. I believed, after his seemingly heartfelt testimony, that he was polyamorous. Whereas the next day, he would convince me, beyond a reasonable doubt, that he was monogamous, always has been, always will be, and loved me and the family-life more than life itself.
Maybe his controlling behavior getting more nefarious as the days passed was what sounded off the alarms in my gut. Or how any hint of my autonomy sent him into a jealous rage. His tantrums went as far as to confront an unsuspecting long-time friend of ours to confirm that we were sleeping together (while he was at work and I was home with our two kids all. day. long.) That was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard. But to him, it made sense that I was capable of such wicked deceit because I messed around with the stripper fifteen-year prior.
What do I really think was going on? Projection. My ex-husband’s guilty conscience was knawing a cheating-sized hole right through him.
I wish I would have been completely honest with him the morning after my Bachelorette party. If what he says is genuine (and not manipulation at its absolute best), I could have avoided divorce altogether. He said he would have never married me in the first place had I been honest and given him a choice.
Free Love
Not to toot my own horn here but, I think I’m sexy, and my personality isn’t half bad either. I’ve had my fair share of offers outside my twenty-year relationship with my ex.
In a different world, I’d be a much different girl — a more free-spirited woman per se. But in this world, I chose to get married at twenty-two, bring two tiny humans into that world, and to stay monogamous. I stayed loyal because that’s who I am — which brings me to my next point.
I’m all for free (safe) love, believe you me. But something about my ex-husband’s approach just didn’t sit right with me. Suffice it to say that something indeed smelled fishy. He pushed and pushed for an open marriage, an “open marriage” where he had girlfriends lined up that he was cheating on me with already.
I didn’t sign up for that shit.
I was threatened and given ultimatums — but I did not consent to the direction he wanted to take our marriage or the stipulations he added to our forever contract some fifteen years later.
He didn’t care.
My opinion didn’t matter, and he certainly didn’t respect it — a toxic pattern I learned too late in the game.
The only thing he seemed to give two shits about was that I told him, “No.” He didn’t like that, especially from a partner of almost twenty years who bent over backward to please him, literally.
Monogamy, polyamory, threesomes, or celibacy — you do you, boo. Be honest with yourself and your partner(s), and don’t continue to hurt people you swore you’d love forever.
Oh, and don’t dodge accountability, be unwaveringly selfish, or try to rewrite the contract you signed many moons ago, and then try to convince your unsuspecting overly-trusting spouse that it was their idea in the first place.
I don’t believe in monogamy or ethical nonmonogamy, for that matter. I believe in keeping my word and being honest about my intentions, no matter how many people I’m committed to.
“Well, you almost had me fooled. Told me that I was nothing without you. Oh, after everything you’ve done, I can thank you for how strong I have become.” — Kesha
On March 19, 2020, when my ex-husband got home from work, I didn’t ask — I told him we needed to talk in the garage (where the kids couldn’t hear us.) After years of placation, I stood up for myself. He didn’t recognize this woman he saw standing in the garage before him who was finally telling him what she wanted.
“I want a divorce,” I said with quiet rage and conviction.
In the twenty years I spent loving my ex-husband; I never raised my voice at him the way I did that night. And I certainly never slammed one single door in his face.
Looking back, I should have done it more often.
“What did you expect me to do?! Wait around at home with the kids to see if it works out for you and someone else?!” I roared.
Ironically, slamming the garage door that night was a sign of the ultimate closure to our marriage.
I had enough of his bullshit.
Forgiveness
I’ve sat with this for a long time. (Fifteen years to be exact) I got comfortable with the uncomfortable feeling that I messed up the night of my Bachelorette party.
I’ve taken accountability for it, and now I’m moving on.
I’m forgiving myself for what happened that night and moving on with my life as that single more free-spirited woman I’ve always wanted to be.
I forgive my ex-husband for how unkind he has been to me. I forgive him for the name-calling, gaslighting, manipulation, and blatant disrespect he thought I deserved.
I didn’t.
I hope he can forgive me, too, for sucking the strippers dick a week before we got married. My behavior was unacceptable, and I’m sorry for hurting him.
It would be healthy for us both to move on from this moment in time to heal.
That’s the thing — I’ve always seen his pain. I’ve always been able to hold a space for his wounds. That’s what got me in this situation in the first place.
I wish him nothing but love in his life and peace in his soul forever and ever.
And no, I didn’t fuck the stripper — I promise.
Final Thoughts
Eight months ago, I didn’t have the poise in me to make a Friends reference while writing this piece.
I’m in a much healthier place now.
I asked myself if I was too cocky (pun totally intended) about cheating on my husband and proclaiming it to the world. I started to doubt my reality and thought maybe things would be easier to accept if I had slept with that guy in the banana hammock.
That thought led me to the ending of Part Two and discovering what I wanted to express in Part One but wasn’t emotionally intelligent to sift through yet.
My second time around, I say with confidence that:
My marriage didn’t end because I sucked the strippers dick at my Bachelorette party fifteen years ago.
My ex-husband gaslighted me into thinking that to take the attention off his transgressions. It worked. It worked so well that I wrote a fucking article about it.
And that’s disgusting.
Thank you for your love and support. ❤
©2020 Divina Grey. All Rights Reserved.
Divina Grey is a ferocious woman and mother rebuilding her life one article at a time. She likes long walks on the beach, singing and playing her guitar, an electrifying workout, and a cup of coffee so decadent she can feel the frothiness in her bones. Over the last twenty-five years, Divina has stockpiled a collection of used journals in an elegant wooden chest and is oozing with gratitude for the chance to share her staggering long-time love of writing with the world.
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Previously published on medium
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Your marriage was over the minute you cheated and lied about it. Tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night, but the sheer mental gymnastic at play here to make him out to be the bad one here when everything started here from you. Take some accountability for once in your life and maybe you won’t die alone surrounded by a bunch of cats. Sincerely, a man who’s (ex) wife also cheated before the wedding and tried to make him out to be the bad guy.
She’s not sorry, if she was, she’d have told him years ago. If she’d have done so, he’d have left ands she knew that. She’s couldn’t keep her mouth shut, she had to blab about it to the internet. Not only that, she clearly got a kick out of telling internet strangers enjoying the entertainment of betraying the person she supposedly loved. And her “accountability” claim is bs. She wanted to keep her safe option and clearly didn’t respect her husband, which in return caused him to lose respect for her. And she got mad when he wanted other options.… Read more »