I have a cheating habit.

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I’ve been married for 10 years now, but it hasn’t been an easy journey. When my husband and I first got together, I was young, naïve, and madly in love. I believed in him and the life we could build together. In the early years of our marriage, I discovered that he was treating me badly, and worse, he was unfaithful. He lied to me, stayed out late, and cheated multiple times. It broke my heart each time I found out about his betrayals.

Despite all this, I chose to forgive him. I was young and in love, and I wanted to believe that he could change, that our love was strong enough to overcome anything. I wanted the dream of a happy family, the fairy tale ending where everything turns out okay. I convinced myself that his behavior would improve, that he would see how much I loved him and how much I was willing to forgive.

We went on to have children together, hoping that starting a family would bring us closer. I poured all my energy into our kids and tried to focus on the positive aspects of our life together. I told myself that for the sake of our family, I had to make things work, no matter how difficult. I wanted our children to have a stable home and the love of both their parents.

But as the years went by, I couldn’t ignore the growing resentment in my heart. About 5 or 6 years into our marriage, I started to feel differently. The wounds from his betrayals never fully healed, and I realized that I had been suppressing my anger and hurt for too long. I was constantly putting on a brave face, pretending everything was okay, but deep down, I was struggling.

The feelings of resentment grew stronger with each passing day. I began to feel like I had sacrificed too much of myself for a man who didn’t truly value or respect me. I started to question my choices and wonder if I had made a mistake by staying with him. I resented him for the pain he caused me, and I resented myself for not being stronger, for not standing up for my own happiness sooner.

As my resentment deepened, I began having urges to reach out to other men behind his back. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but I craved the attention and affection I wasn’t getting at home. I wanted to feel desired, to feel like someone truly cared about me. The idea of connecting with someone who would appreciate me was intoxicating. It became a way to escape the reality of my unhappy marriage, even if only in my mind.

I never went through with it, though. Each time I thought about reaching out to another man, I felt a mix of excitement and guilt. I knew it wasn’t the right solution, but I was desperate for something, anything, to make me feel alive again. I was lost in a sea of conflicting emotions, unsure of how to navigate the storm brewing in my heart.

Looking back now, I realize that my feelings were a cry for help, a sign that I needed to address the issues in my marriage instead of burying them. It took me a long time to come to terms with everything, but I’ve learned a lot about myself and what I truly need in a relationship. I’m still on this journey, trying to figure out what the future holds, but I know that I deserve happiness and respect. And most importantly, I’ve learned that I can’t ignore my own needs for the sake of a broken relationship.

 

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