
Why do I hate myself?
I didn’t cheat. He did.
But I’m not enough. I’ve never been. He needed more than me. Why couldn’t I be the only one he wanted?
I hate myself for not being strong.
I hate myself for not realizing it sooner.
I hate myself for being weak.
For being afraid.
For not being enough.
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This is the other side of the cheating coin.
The pain we inflict on our spouses. When they learn the inevitable truth — discovery day.
I usually write about the joy and the lust of affairs. And that’s an important part, too. It’s about desire and self-discovery. Usually (at least in my case), I had been in a long-standing dead bedroom.
Yet, infidelity is about betrayal and pain.
I can’t gloss over that.
This isn’t an indictment by any means. I write every day about cheating. It’s both good and bad, like most things in life. It can be life-changing, positively or negatively.
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If you want to read more stories about the pain and the hurt online, read r/survinginfidelity.
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Follow me at [email protected] (It’s free motherfucker and I’m worth it)
Don’t make me sell my body on OnlyFans; support me at [email protected]
Buy me a coffee at ko-fi/monalisasmiled because I’m interestingly evil…
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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