I have been living a lie for so long, it is a relief to finally write this down and get it out of my head.
I hope you are not reading this story in hopes of learning how to do it, or how to get away with it. That is not my goal. I’m simply going to tell you a story and hope we get something out of it. It’s time to confess this somehow. Consider this a serial cheater’s confession.
The Background
I’ve been married for 12 years now and have been basically dishonest for the last 7 years. I started out in my marriage really in love with Megan. I had high hopes of a long, normal relationship with nice house, a big family, and lots of love and laughter together.
Megan came from a good nuclear family as I did, so we both had good role models and knew what “normal” looked like. Everything was normal for the first several years. They were a bit boring, but we were both dutifully playing the part of husband and wife.
I waited until 25 to get married and Megan was 23 and a fresh college graduate, which is relatively young by today’s standard of marriage. Unfortunately, I think this was too young for us, and we didn’t know who we would become.
We both had professional jobs and were active at building our respective careers. Mine, after a few years, had me traveling significantly throughout the country on a regular basis, and at times extended weeks and some weekends. Megan worked in a large office with many people and had lots of friends around for communications and camaraderie.
Going the Distance
We had started to grow apart with all of the physical distance between us, and since I was alone a lot at night and for some weekends I started looking to not be alone, and maybe conscious or unconsciously seeking someone to spend time with.
This started innocently. I am not a big drinker and didn’t want to hang out in bars at night, so I needed something to occupy my time. As a distance runner, there were always a few clubs or fellow runners around that I would see regularly in the places that I traveled.
Then, I met a friend named Troy who invited me to join the running club in Tucson that happened to have an active group that hung out together when running and afterwards. I fit right in with this group and began to spend as much time here as possible. Megan was active and but not a runner, so for me this had been a solo activity, until now.
I also sought out this same environment and situation in LA and Denver, where I also spent significant amounts of time. This quickly became my extended family, and I found a lot of interesting individual in this world. I found it easy connect and hang out with some beautiful people with similar interests.
The Start of the Race
One night when I was on the road traveling, I tried to get in touch Megan, but she once again, didn’t answer. She had grown more distant and was going out with friends from work, more and more often This is when my mind started to shift and found it easier to call some of my new friends and connect this way. I had made some connections and tried to keep it out of my mind that there were other available women, but with this mind shift and the fact that I’m a sucker for tight running shorts and nice legs, I called Staci.
She was tall and accommodating, inviting me over for a fun evening. She said that she liked to cook and that she bet I could use a homecooked meal. I was hesitant at first, but needed some attention, which I wasn’t getting on a regular basis, partly because of the distance and partly because we had become more distant in our relationship. Staci told me all of the things I wanted to hear, like how desirable a person I was and how easy it would be for me to get attention, if I just tried a bit to seek it out.
That is when I found out how easy it would be for me. From this point forward I became a cheater, and then a serial cheater.
In the Race
There is something amazing about meeting and being with someone new. It is a lighter, hotter time and exciting time, not weighed down with the pressures of home or that of past arguments.
You discover something new when you touch her, take off her top and those get to touch those shorts. It’s a smorgasbord of choices, bodies and body parts. Different lips, necks, backs and of course the really good parts. Your heart starts racing and you get butterflies, wondering what is next and what she will look like sans clothing.
At first, I didn’t actively seek out having sex with other women, but I can’t say that I am not guilty of the offense either officer. It’s not like I want to do it all of the time, but I no longer pass up a lot of opportunities.
The guilt is still there, but I don’t let it drive me. I’m honest for the most part, and I never actively lie about being married, but do not bring the subject up. Most of the women I meet are through the clubs, and know about my situation, or at least know someone who knows.
But, I don’t actively talk about being married with the women I meet, but a lot of the ones that do know, surprisingly don’t care. If asked, I do tell the truth and let the chips fall where the lay.
I’m an attractive masculine male that isn’t too arrogant, but knows what he wants. A couple of the women have told me that they have to have a masculine man and are willing to make an exception for me, if necessary.
I have had several cheaters relationships these past 7 years, and try my best to enjoy what life has to offer me. Megan has been so distant, it makes me wonder what she has been up to.
I grew up being taught that you had to kowtow to the women in your life, be sensitive and bend to their will. However, because of this I didn’t really know what it was to take the lead. It turns out most women don’t really want a sensitive guy. They just want a confident man who takes care of themselves and goes out of his way to be energetic and accommodating. More and more women these days, don’t want a standard relationship. They see it as being tied down.
I thought for a long time, that what Megan didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt her. In reality, I think this has been a lie to myself to deal with the guilt that I feel inside.
So, this is my confession, the confession of a serial cheater.
