Infidelity in a relationship

I am 49 years old. I've been married since I was 23.

My husband and I have two children, a mortgage, a dog, and even a joint weekend at IKEA (when she was still in Paris). Everything is like with other people. We do not swear, do not make a scene, pay the bills, and pass maintenance on time for both cars. The only problem I have is that I have been dating another man for four years.

We don't live together; he doesn't interfere in my life, and he doesn't make decisions for me. We... eat, somewhere in a parallel reality. I know it's wrong. I know that someone will call it a betrayal. But I can't leave my husband. And I can't part with the other. Too much is invested in one, and I feel too much alive for the other. A husband is like a warm blanket: familiar, reliable, safe. And it is like a thunderstorm: unpredictable, bright, requiring a complete shutdown of logic. I never thought that I would find myself in such a situation. I'm not "that kind of woman." I wasn't looking for it. It all started with a casual conversation at a party. Just a person with whom it is easy. Who looked at me that

He looked at me the way my husband hasn't looked at me in seven years. I thought it would pass. Sex, a couple of meetings, a flare-up — and that would be it. But four years have passed, and we are still in love. I know how that sounds. A double life. Lies. Deception. But it's not as simple as in the TV shows where the wife is a bitch and the lover is a hero. I have a good husband. Really. He has never raised a hand to me, never cheated, never belittled me. He brings me coffee in bed when I’m sick. He takes the kids to practice and remembers that I like buckwheat with fried mushrooms. We laugh at the same jokes, share our dreams, and discuss where to go in the summer. But... I feel empty next to him. Not because he is bad. But because I have changed. We lived in harmony until I was 25-30. Until I started asking myself questions: Is this all there is? Am I even alive? I felt like I was gradually disappearing — in everyday life, in routine, in the expectations of 'being a good wife.' Everything was by the rules. And that was killing me. But with another person, I became a woman again.

 Not as a mother, not as a housekeeper, not as a part of the family budget. But as a woman. Desired, real, alive. With him, I could laugh, argue, be silent, and discuss things I would be embarrassed to talk about with my husband. We had everything: movies, conversations until dawn, crazy sex in hotels, long talks in the car. Sometimes he looked at me in a way that made me want to cry. From happiness. From shame. From the impossibility of it all. I expect nothing from him. He is not married, but he does not demand any commitments from me. It’s as if we have struck this strange agreement: just to be together as long as we can. And then - whatever happens. I often wonder: how will this all end? And will it end at all? Perhaps one day my husband will discover the truth. Maybe the other one will find someone else. Or I will get tired of living on two fronts. Sometimes it feels like I am being torn apart: during the day I am a wife and mother, in the evening I am someone’s woman, at night - nobody, just a person staring at the ceiling and afraid of being alone. Guilt has gnawed at me more than once. I caught myself laughing with my husband and in...

 And at that very moment, I thought: "You are lying to him right now." I felt ashamed. I felt pain. But then I realized that this is not just about infidelity. It's about the fact that we have long stopped seeing each other as men and women. We became a team. Relatives. Affairs, children, and memories connect people. And not by feelings. A lover does not replace my husband. And my husband does not replace my lover. This is not about choosing between two men. It's about choosing between myself and the 'right life.' And I am not yet ready to make that choice. Because I am afraid of losing everything. And at the same time, I am worried about staying forever in a place where no one touches my neck with their lips anymore and calls me 'the one and only.' I am not seeking sympathy. And I am not asking for justifications. I want someone reading this to understand — sometimes women do not lack a husband, but the ability to feel alive. We do not always leave 'for someone.' More often, we go 'for ourselves.' I know that for some, I am a traitor, for others — a coward, and for some — just a woman who did not dare to destroy everything.

I have been in a long marriage—26 years—which is a significant part of your life. Having a lover outside of marriage adds a layer of complexity that can bring both emotional intensity and inner conflict. Perhaps you judge me. Or maybe you silently nod, because you also live in the shadow of your desires. We all make choices. Mine is to live in between. Would you choose stability without passion or passion without guarantees?

Here are a few questions Zillove asks you that might help you reflect and move forward with clarity:

• What is missing in your marriage that led you to seek connection elsewhere?
• Does your lover offer something emotionally or physically that your spouse no longer does?
• Do you feel guilt, peace, confusion, or something else about this double life?
• What do you want long-term: to stay in your marriage, to be with your lover, or to find something entirely new

You don’t have to answer all at once—but if you're looking for insight, advice, or a place to think it through, Zillove's advice platform is here to help you navigate it with honesty and without judgment. Register with us and post your questions, and we will assign an expert to assist you.