Several folks sent me the archived Dear Prudence article that ran last week, “Help! I Only Date Married Men. And I Like It.” Which is a peculiar lede. This is a request for validation, not advice. It’s like writing in “Help! I Drown Kittens. And I Enjoy It.” Yes, kitten drowning is generally frowned upon, but gosh darn it, I enjoy executing small cuddly animals in burlap sacks and I don’t care who knows!
Prudence gave the OW a rather lame beating with a wet noodle.
I suggest you examine why you so easily have slipped into the role of other woman… Decide not to exchange those glances, or stop at just one drink, and see how it feels to create a different kind of life
Don’t you love how you can just “slip into the role” of Other Woman? Like changing outfits! I’m feeling morally challenged today. I think I’ll wear my hand-knit “fuck universal sisterhood” sweater.
The UBT could do better.
I have always tried to be a kind person.
Husband fucking notwithstanding.
However, I have lived my adult life in a way many people would disapprove of.
The problem here is the disapproval. Not my behavior.
During the last 11 years I have been a mistress of five married men.
During the last 11 years, my cellphone nom de plume has been “Bob.”
One had a long string of previous affairs.
Shockingly, I was not special.
One was a friend for whom I had much tenderness and who told me he would rather have had me.
Except for the stubborn persistence of his wife.
One was a three-year relationship that caused deep feelings and deep distress.
There was also the stubborn persistence of a wife. Minus the tenderness.
I do not regret these or the other adventures.
You have to weigh the genital herpes against the free dinners at Ruth Chris’s Steak House.
I have not been the initiator of the affairs; the men have pursued me.
Yes, that never happens to other women.
Surely the rest of womankind don’t screw married men because these men never come on to them. Just me! I’m special that way.
Apart from one, I would not have wanted to live with these men.
You should see the way they eat steaks. Napkin bibs. Ketchup. (shudder)
I do not know any of the five wives, and I am discreet.
Abusing others is fine, so long as it’s discreet.
When people discuss adultery, the cheater and the other woman are often spoken of harshly as deceivers and egoists.
People should stop discussing this immediately and learn discretion.
I have never felt like either, and have never felt guilty.
I don’t feel like an egoist or a deceiver or guilty. Ergo I’m not.
Is it possible the rest of the world has a limited emotional imagination and cannot see that such affairs are meetings between two people who don’t want to hurt innocent partners, but who choose to explore their intimacy and chemistry in secret?
I have no conscience or guilty feelings, but I suspect the rest of the world has a limited emotional imagination.
Or have I somehow become morally crippled since I can so easily do something most people would chastise me for?
I am a bold explorer of intimacy! The kind of closeness that is never introduced to anyone and can only call on Wednesdays after 7 p.m. Maybe.
Am I morally crippled or am I BRAZENLY awesome?
I say awesome.
If you see “Bob” calling. Pick up, okay?