An Open Letter to a Married Man*
Dear Man*,
Cheater.
Liar.
Sad.
You have recently extended an invitation to “forgive myself,” as if I have been accused of a fault — other than suspiciously tip-toeing around the professional fog you once learned in school. Well, FORGIVE ME, if I object.
Under the guise of a chance encounter, provoked by new technologies, I was sitting at a bar, and then at brunch, time passed and then at your* house. The paintings on the wall were gorgeous. The attention to detail offered a refreshing point of view. The strokes were meticulous but messy. You took pride in explaining how they were yours. But, they were hers.
You took her power and claimed it as your own.
You took her talent and claimed it as your own.
Her photos denied your web of lies.
The makeup drawer held her makeup, the closet hung her clothes, and the kitchen supplied her favorite wine.
It was hers.
You claimed her with your greed and ego, taking away her talent, home, love, and art. And I hope someday, you beg for forgiveness.
I won’t remain silent, or ashamed, for discovering the trap that you set. It’s men* like you, who hide behind vulnerable smoke screens, preying on strong minds hoping to consume their doubts.
I won’t be intimidated by your insecurities or threatened by your hollow heart that charades as cavalier.
You’ll live with a dark shadow, a weight I’d never want to lift and an incredible pain where something lived, that you loved very much.
Remember the moment that I said “you’re not single, are you?” was met with the fury of a woman standing up for another.
So, forgive me, for being for the other woman.
