Chump Wife
My Long Life with a Serial Cheater
Being married to a serial cheater is traumatic. It can go on for many years if the person being cheated on is a chump. In case you’re wondering, a chump is defined as “a foolish or easily deceived person” and that pretty much sums up me and my experience. For almost 50 years! The fact that it went on for that many years and I did not leave is a testament to my innocence, perseverance, and my ignorance.
There were several very traumatic D-Days (discovery days) over the years where I learned of an affair or affairs. There was even a divorce and a remarriage. I am not sure when the cheating started but it was probably ongoing from the very beginning. It got easier for him when he started his flying career, financed by me, but I hung in there. I was always willing to believe him when he told me it would never happen again, but it always did. There were flight attendants, secretaries at work, a nanny we had, and lots and lots of third world women in the countries where he flew. The worst discovery was an external drive with videos of him and his conquests. I don’t know that I will ever get completely over the shock of seeing that. There can never be a question in my mind about what he was up to.
This is just the tip of a very deep iceberg. I am sure that there were many, many more than just the ones I know of. My entire life, spent with a cheater, was one huge lie. That is difficult to process. To him I was just an inconvenient convenience. I was the wife appliance who took care of all the grunt work. I worked full time, paid the bills, did the taxes, handled the home and exterior maintenance, the kids, birthdays and holidays, cooking, and cleaning. I did everything and got nothing in return except a broken heart. And who can I blame but me? I allowed it to happen to me because I DIDN’T LEAVE. Instead, I smoked the hopium pipe and kept thinking it would be OK if I could just work harder, be nicer, be prettier, be whatever he said I was deficient in. And I was always deficient.
There are a lot of people who blamed me — because I stayed. I was stupid, I had choices, I should have known he wouldn’t change, blah, blah… I am a codependent, a chump. This is so very unfair. I was a victim. I was abused in the worst way and the trauma from that abuse just tied me to him even more because I wanted so badly to fix it. To be judged in this way just makes everything harder. I think that people who haven’t experienced abuse on this level just do not have the knowledge to make this kind of judgement. They will, of course, but I don’t have to take it personally and I do not. Anymore. I certainly did at first and beat myself up even more. There are a lot of unanswered whys. Why couldn’t I fix him, why wasn’t I enough no matter how hard I tried, why did God allow this to happen to me when I did everything I was supposed to do? Why, why, why? I finally realized that it doesn’t matter why. I didn’t cause it, I can’t change it, or control it (thank you Al-Anon for that knowledge). I just have to accept it and go from there. Acceptance is the key to freedom. The divorce is final.
The saddest thing to me is that I will never be able to build a relationship like that with anyone again. It is just too late. I will never know someone’s grandparents and even great-grandparents. At age 66, I will probably never even know someone’s parents, aunts, and uncles. I knew everyone in my cheater’s family, and he knew everyone in mine. Now a lot of those people are dead. How do you build that kind of relationship with someone when it is too late? I guess the answer is you don’t. If I ever have another relationship, it will be completely different. And healthier, I hope.
Eventually, what I realized was that living with my cheater has provided one big benefit. It taught me how to take care of myself. I still have a job, I bought a house, and a car. I can manage my money. And that is priceless.
