One woman credits an affair with saving her mental health and restoring her self-esteem after years in a loveless marriage. Photo / 123rf
After so long in my sexless marriage, I was suffering from touch starvation. To be held in my lover’s arms felt wonderful
Could having an affair actually be good for you? In a behavioural study by illicitencounters.com – the UK’s largest extramarital dating site, 81% of respondents reported that their mental health improved after cheating.
Georgia*, 51, a former teacher from West Sussex, in Britain, explains how stepping outside her marriage has helped her reclaim her self-esteem and her sanity.
It’s 8am on an autumnal morning and having waved our daughters off to school I head into the kitchen. I catch my Lycra-clad reflection in the mirror and smile. I’ve lost weight and toned up these past months, yet my husband Brian* doesn’t even glance up from his paper. Pouring kibble in the dog’s bowl, I grab my keys.
“See you later,” I say. There’s no reply. No flicker of interest about where I’m going, no discussion about the day ahead, no sign of affection nor even a wave goodbye.
A year ago, this emotional stonewalling would have sent me straight to the fridge looking for a bottle of wine or some sugary snacks to help me numb the mounting feelings of sadness, despair and isolation.
Now however, it’s a different story. With a spring in my step, I head for the car. I’m off to the gym and then I’m meeting my lover.
I’ve been having an affair with James* for nine months and I don’t regret it one bit. In fact, I credit my infidelity with restoring my mental health and general wellbeing. At the end of last year I was in a dark place, lonely, isolated, and depressed.
Now I’m happier, full of self-confidence and mentally strong enough to handle life’s challenges – including the strain of being stuck in an empty, soulless marriage.
It wasn’t always this way. When my husband Brian and I first met through mutual friends we fell deeply in love. I was a 30-year-old teacher. He was 25 years my senior and working in finance. He was charismatic, intelligent, and worldly wise.
We married in 2004, had two beautiful girls (now in their teens), and for a long time led what many would see as an idyllic life, with a lovely home, nice cars and regular holidays.
In reality, however, our relationship was deteriorating, with communication the first to crumble.
Brian stopped wanting to talk in depth about anything and our interactions became limited to the terminally mundane – who should walk the dogs, what’s on TV. With no emotional connection, the physical intimacy also began to wither.
I felt desperate, but every time I tried to talk to Brian about our relationship he brushed me aside. He has difficulty expressing his emotions and doesn’t know how to handle others expressing theirs, so if I got upset he would simply leave the room.
I can’t pinpoint a moment when I realised things were irrevocably broken, there was just this terrible creeping realisation that we were no longer true partners but people sharing the same living space.
Eventually, we didn’t even do that. We began sleeping in different bedrooms – I was coping with peri-menopausal insomnia and it didn’t help that he snores and grinds his teeth.
Of course, being in a relationship with no emotional or physical intimacy for a decade hugely impacted my mental health. I felt unseen, unheard, and extremely lonely.
I became depressed and started suffering with anxiety attacks – but then I hit 50 and something inside me shifted. I felt I was living a half-life and I knew I wanted more.
Browsing online one day I stumbled on illicitencounters.com, an extra-marital dating site. I uploaded my profile. After making what I thought were promising connections, I was ghosted on several occasions and whenever I decided to meet up with someone face-to-face there was never any chemistry. I felt thoroughly jaded.
Then, in February, James popped up.
We messaged back and forth for a few weeks before meeting up for a coffee. I felt very nervous, so it was a huge relief when the person I’d connected with online turned out to be even more lovely in the flesh.
He is five years younger than me but we clicked instantly, sharing cultural references and music tastes I never have with my husband. After so long in my sexless marriage I was suffering from touch starvation so to be held in his arms felt wonderful.
The sex is great, but equally amazing are the hours we spend talking about anything and everything, our feelings, what we want from life, what’s happening in the world.
We tend to meet in hotels away from where we live but also go out for walks or for dinner or drinks. We have sometimes been out to restaurants a little too close to home and find ourselves looking over our shoulders, but as yet we haven’t had any close shaves. Recently we took the train to London and were kissing and holding hands like teenagers – risky but thrilling.
I always feel huge anticipation the night before seeing my lover even if we are just meeting for coffee the next day. I cannot wait for that connection with him. The adrenaline fuels me.
He is the first person I think of every morning – it’s a bit like the excitement you feel waking up on Christmas Day when you’re a kid. He makes me feel alive again. We have been in a ‘relationship’ for a while now but I still get that dopamine hit when I receive a text from him.
After meeting, we go our separate ways and maybe won’t see each other for weeks although we text daily. In the beginning I would have the empty feeling of a come down – a low after the initial high. Not because of any guilt but a feeling of abandonment. I didn’t want to go back to my life and couldn’t face him going back to his.
As we have become more emotionally connected, I have addressed this feeling and can now appreciate every minute of time we have together without having that sense of rejection when we part. I feel lucky to have him in my life and in an unexpected way he has given me confidence and has helped me learn to balance my emotions.
You might ask why I don’t just leave my marriage? I feel I can’t blow our children’s world apart right now – they’re in exam years, one of them struggles with anxiety and at this point in their young lives they’re facing huge societal pressures with things like social media and body image.
It just wouldn’t be fair. I do think about it every day, but it’s the huge upheaval. My lover is in a similar situation with his family so we’re on the same page.
As for the deception, I don’t feel anything when I lie about my whereabouts, I’m a good actress and have learnt to compartmentalise.
I think about his wife and kids as a separate entity – James has to be responsible for his own guilt where they’re concerned. I wouldn’t expect him to leave his family just as I wouldn’t expect him to put pressure on me to leave mine.
I am also fortunate in that I have the support of my best friend who knows Brian and understands the issues in our marriage. She is non-judgmental and helps me process the wealth of emotions that come with having an affair.
I don’t think Brian suspects but if he did confront me I wouldn’t deny it. He’s so emotionally closed I don’t know how he’d take the news – but I’d be able to say hand on heart that I tried repeatedly over the years to talk to him and fix things. He’d have to take some accountability for what’s gone wrong. He doesn’t know how to do the work to fix our marriage, or just doesn’t want to.
In many ways the current situation works for everyone. The children still have a stable home life while the affair fills the emotional and physical void that both I and James have in our marriages. I now feel validated.
I have emotional intimacy, affection and great sex, all the things I was missing. I’m more forgiving of myself for acknowledging that I have needs – so I am happy. I am also still a good wife in terms of meeting my husband’s requirements.
I am the companion he wants. I cook and clean for him. I plan and organise and emotionally and practically support our children.
The thing is this energy I put into the marriage is never reciprocated and I feel I need something for myself to feel alive.
Is the affair a crutch masking deeper problems that could resurface if it ended? Possibly. I am prone to anxiety but since meeting James I feel more relaxed and I now have the headspace to really think.
My affair has fully opened my eyes to what I was missing and has given me the courage to focus on my own wellbeing. It’s not just about sex, it’s about feeling valued and understood. I’m not sorry for it.
In fact, I think more people in my situation should consider it.
As told to Steph Clarkson
Jessica Leoni, a sex and relationships expert, says: “Many users of sites like Illicitencounters.com view their affairs as an essential outlet to maintain their sanity in otherwise bleak circumstances. The reality is that many individuals can feel suffocated and unseen in their relationships.
“For some, having an affair is a way of seeking happiness and mental clarity and that can prove more effective than therapy or antidepressants in alleviating feelings of loneliness and depression. It can be an opportunity for personal growth, self discovery and even healing.”
Pay attention to when it starts to sound and no longer keeps the mirror from fogging up.