Tearing at the Fabric

Of the space-time continuum

New rules


A man I live with read a post on my blog yesterday. He told me about it. He asked that I change names/use pseudonyms. I think that is reasonable. I will slowly go over old posts and edit these. Bear with me as I do if you are looking at anything in the dusty old archives!

I must admit, when I first started blogging, I asked those questions of myself. I guess I came to the conclusion that I didn’t care. I wasn’t telling anything but MY truth, so where was the harm in using real names. I guess I have changed my mind – rather, had it changed for me. But I am okay with that.

I live in a small country. I haven’t come across a lot of people blogging about infidelity in the way I do, from here – that is not to say that we don’t have infidelity – good lord no! I guess I had time on my side, all of the hurtful stuff happened six years ago so I doubted any “real” people involved would stumble across my still-bleeding internet corpse. But, maybe he has a point.

So I am going with it.

I haven’t decided on how I will label the players yet, but as soon as I do I will make the changes. I won’t change me though, I am still Paula, at least I was last time I looked in the mirror (and into my soul ooooOOOOOOoooooh!)

That man is a technophobe. So much so that he doesn’t, and never has, used social media. I never thought he wouldn’t know what a blog contained. He knows I have read these for a long time, and he also knew that I eventually started one. He didn’t get that it would be quite graphic (despite me telling him) and that is is basically a version of a twelvie’s Dear Diary. I think he was a little shocked – and probably a little hurt – although he denied this. But why else ask if I could change names? I am doing this out of respect for him. Not because I feel bullied into it, or that I did something wrong in using my truth, including names. In fact, as I type this, the only name I think I will change is his. Leanne deserves to be named and shamed – as if, lol! I have no problem if anyone thinks they know who these characters are. I am not ashamed of the role I have played in any of this.

So, there you are. Maybe I still “rescue” him. I don’t think I do. I think I am just respecting his right to privacy. Even though he didn’t respect my rights to good sexual health, love, trust and a lifetime partnership based on that love and trust.

(Oooooohhh, who made that snarky last bite???)


29 thoughts on “New rules

  1. Ooooo whatcha gonna call him??

    • Ha! I could ask readers to submit suggestions, but that might end up worse! I will think about it and come back to it soon. Don’t expect anything too exciting, PW ๐Ÿ˜‰

  2. It’s a hard choice. I have only changed a couple of names. Oh and me and Argyrodes. She totally deserves to be named but if I did it would probably be a giveaway. She’s the only one in the nation I think with that name.

    • Oh no. Nephila, Argyrodes is perfect! I guess you are meaning the kleptoparasitic spider who steals others webs, despite being able to spin their own? (Thanks Google! I looked that up when I found your blog, thinking it some Greek villain.) None better!

  3. I think it might be the acronym TOIL (The One I Love/d.) Seems about right. On several levels.

  4. When I referred to my husband on my blog, I used “H”. As for everyone else, I just used the first Initial of their name.

    • Yeah, thanks Sandy, I know that is how most do it, if you haven’t noticed, I don’t like to follow rules ๐Ÿ˜‰ Besides, he is not my husband, we never married.

  5. Well in that case, any nickname would be good enough.

  6. At the beginning I didn’t use a name at all, for myself or for my husband. I just sort of slid around it, used pronouns, or simply called him my husband. It proved to be too impersonal. People engaged more easily with me after I chose names. Even I myself have come to identify with my own chosen name. I turn and almost answer when someone calls out the name DJ. DJ is my alter ego, the one who openly shares with an online community. I chose it because it what I used to do.

    I used to use my real name on EAJ, but later changed to DJ there as well. You might remember, Paula. I had a number of nice conversations with you before I became DJ .

    Today I am DJ, inside and online. It is the me that can express my true feelings. No one in my real life hears it.

    • DJ, as a geographer, naming is such a key point. As you say, engagement and ownership occurs. I wanted, and chose deliberately to use real names, as it was part of the way I had of owning what happened to us. Realistically, I don’t think I will get back through the whole blog to edit his name, and certainly it would take time and effort I don’t really have to edit all the comments. I just wanted to post about my choice to be honest, and use real names, because these were real things that happened to real people. I feel the consequences of these every day. I am learning to live around those consequences, and those facts, as I have no choice. I didn’t want to protect them, or anyone involved in their choices to be selfish, entitled twats! Justice is my middle name, and all actions have consequences. That is what I was trying to ram home to TOIL (lol) that he was incredibly selfish and short-sighted to do what he did. We all live with the pain of his choices forever now, and for what? Because he felt a bit sad and thought he was entitled?! I trusted he was so much better than that. He is not.

      I hadn’t even clicked that you and I had connected as anything other than DJ on EAJ all those years ago! That made me realise how short-sighted I am, too!

      Thank you for your friendship, support and understanding xxx.

  7. I use AH=asshat or hubby when I’m not feeling the anger so much.

  8. Hi cupcakes! Yep, there are plenty of FAR more insulting terms I could have chosen! I really wanted the truth, because this really happened, this blog was to bear witness to the truth. And I am rarely one to take the easy, or expected path, I guess. I didn’t want them protected by anonymity. Hell, pretty much everyone in my life knows that he cheated on me. For a long time. With a pretty awful person. Most have decided I must be pretty awful too, or why would he do this. I don’t have anything left to protect except my children. They know the truth, not the details, but they know what their Dad did, and with whom.

    • H: i’ve been reading your blog & I just wanted to say how strong you are, I guess how strong we all are or have become. It’s so hard not to call my hubby AH in person every day sometimes. I know it’s early days yet, I found out all the end of May this year. I protect hubby because if anyone finds out, it could be the end of his career. I know he’s an AH but I want to make sure he keeps making money so he pay that spousal support ๐Ÿ˜‰. Only his sisters & 2 of my friends know about his affairs. Everyone else just thinks he’s wonderful.

  9. Oh, bless, cupcakes. Mine was a May discovery, too. Happy antiversaries to us ;-). Hang in there. I gave myself a year, as I knew the emotional turmoil was apt to make me make bad decisions, I needed to decide with a clearer head, and after I did some emotional digging into who the hell this guy was – the one that I thought I knew inside and out was long gone! Keep in touch, I will have a browse over your blog when I get a moment (taking a break from uni readings this evening.)

    We are all far stronger than we realise. I always knew I was strong, but I have felt very weak over all of this. The old Paula would have left years ago, far more decisive and independent!

    • H: May was a bittersweet month, I turned 40 & found out how many women my husband really slept with (if it’s indeed the truth). I always loved this time of year but I guess there’s really no great month to hear that your husband has been screwing around. Then Wednesday is our 22 anniversary. What’s there to really celebrate though….how he’s slept around on me since we’ve been married? Nahhhh, I’m good, I’ll just sit this “celebration” out. You’re right I’m going to give myself a year.

      • Cupcakes, I discovered that my 40th celebration was all a giant crock of shit. Roger – hey, let’s get real here, I am not going to use a pseudonym – planned me a big bash. We had over 200 people in our new woolshed, the theme was Best of British, and was hilarious – everyone dressed up, we had punks, royals – past and present – Patsy and Edie from Ab Fab, rock stars, he was Ali G, the kids were Harry Potter, Alice in Wonderland and Keira Knightley’s character from Pirates of the Caribbean. People flew in from all over the country. I was Cruella de Ville. One of my besties flew in from the South Island – all dressed as James Bond – tuxedo and all, on the last flight allowed into our local airport – we had a massive storm that night! Rog had gone to a huge amount of trouble, to ensure safety and comfort. Decorations, DJ, food, heating, etc. Turns out that he had been sleeping with one of the guests – who came as Ginger Spice, all short dress and boobs out – who was an old friend of mine. I had organised for her, her nanny and her nanny’s boyfriend to stay. I had bought beautiful new linen, decorated our cottage with flowers and gorgeous scented candles and soaps, stocked it with gourmet goodies, like freshly baked artisan breads, pickles, cheeses, bacon, free range eggs, fresh ground coffee, etc, etc, etc. She was working in Australia, flew in for that one night only – drove the three hours to our house, and drove back up to fly out the next morning. Oh – don’t worry, they “were on a break.” He had told her it was over but invited her anyway. (It wasn’t over, they carried on for another seven or eight months after that.) After D-day, Rog told me about one of our friends getting very snotty with him that night, he was dancing with a darling old school friend of his – a good friend of mine, too. She is so much fun, and happily and I am fairly sure, monogamously, married. They were doing a lot of dancing and laughing, and Arlene decided it was too much, and had a word with Rog, He told me this later as he was on high alert that night to ensure he wasn’t “sprung” with Leanne in any way, as it was “over” and he never wanted it uncovered – he thought it odd that Arlene freaked out about Kate. Sensitive much, Rog???

        So, my memories of my fortieth are none too fucking special either!

        I am so sorry for you. Despite this experience, I still find it hard to understand that the kinds of things that have happened to you, do. This is the only affair Roger has had – if you read further back, yes, he also paid a prostitute once when drunk, in our early years. I wish you well in your decision-making process. I can’t fathom living with someone who NEVER took their wedding vows at face value, not from the start, I wish I could send you a new heart, and a whole new life.

  10. Can you leave or is it financial? It would be so hard to break up a household after so many years. Who gets what etc. Reading your blog is troubling because they stole five years from you. After uni you can work full time and find your own life. I would imagine having to see him every day keeps the pain alive. Being lonely with someone is so much worse than being alone. I wish you much happiness.

    • Hi Let go. Everyone can leave. If they need to. My life would be considerably worse if I did. Financially I would be very compromised. I stay for now until I finish my degree and my children complete their secondary schooling. The kids are happy and doing well. We both know we are over. We are talking and plannng how to extricate ourselves with the best financial positions possible. For example, we plan on listing the farm in October in order to test the market. It will take time to sell as is a unique property in this location. The market has eased a little recently as land prices are strongly correlated to dairy payout, even non-dairy farms, and international prices have eased. The blog is a venting system :-).

      • I understand about the venting but in one of your posts you discussed being sad and I just felt so badly for you that you continue to pay the price physically, emotionally and financially while those two got away with it all. I hope you keep blogging for a long time so that we can follow your life.

      • Oh yes. Incredibly sad. But I was even more miserable the eight months on my own. It is not simply a case of stay and be miserable or leave and be whole. I accept that I will feel sad about this forever. But that does not end my life. You have to find ways to tuck some worthwhile shit in the pockets of the giant, morbidly obese sad. I feel I have planned a way to live as well as we all can – for now. We live well together. We just had a nice weekend. I am full of a head cold and he was considerate and looked out for me, picked up slack and we grinned a lot. We are like the bestest mates out. But we can’t be intimate – and I mean touching and kissing (we can and do hug) – because the mind movies distress me far too much. Sad is the new black ๐Ÿ˜‰ !

        He didn’t get away with anything. He is devastated daily for what he chose, caused and now lives with. Her? Yeah probably. But who cares about her? Meh is where I am about her. She is nothing.

  11. I just spent the past few days reading all of your posts. First, I’d like to say you’re a beautiful person and writer. You do a great job of seeing life’s blessings and appreciating life’s comforts. I am the same kind of person (I wish I was as sexually passionate as you were pre-DDay…I’ve always been more reserved in that way). I have always loved deeply, felt REAL happiness (actually felt EVERY emotion very distinctly and with high intensity)… and I loved my feelings. But, like you’ve described, I don’t seem to really feel anymore since all of this happened. I just thought my feelings have been “asleep” for the past year, but I keep waiting for them to wake up and they don’t seem to be. It’s good in some ways since I don’t get too worried, stressed, mad, etc anymore. My new way of handling everything is to just “go with the flow”. I host family function or events and in the past I would have been really stressed about things not lining up or going right. Now I just shrug and say “whatever”. My thinking is “it’ll be what it is” and so far everything has been the same as it would have been if I stressed about it. But the downside is I don’t get happy anymore. I don’t enjoy doing anything. I don’t enjoy talking to people. I get the same feeling sitting at home by myself as I get out with friends. I can’t make it come back. I thought I would come out of shock eventually and feel happiness again, but now I wonder… the only clear and unmistakable feeling I still have is sadness. Overwhelming, ever-present, sadness. I hate it! I’m sorry you went through such a life changing experience, mine doesn’t compare in terms of the actual event, but I seem to have gotten the same end result none-the-less. Not sure if it helps at all, but I truly understand what you’re living now.

    • Thank you oncewhole for taking the time to indulge my ramblings! Wow, I haven’t really met anyone who has experienced this whole emotional shutdown too. I don’t really even get the “relief” you do with the “I don’t care” attitude. But it sounds like it is of no compensation anyway. Yes, the permanent sad, and inability to move off that shelf is agonisingly frustrating. And I SOOOO get it about talking to friends, etc. I just can’t be arsed, because it doesn’t feel good anymore.

      I don’t think that comparisons are very useful really. If we are seriously emotionally wounded, I don’t think it matters if you are cheated on, let down very badly by someone in some other way, your partner has an EA only – they all have the same consequences, and that is the point. Comparing the wound is not useful really. “Look, yours is messier than mine, why does mine hurt the same?” It just does.

      Lovely to have you here, oncewhole, I hope we both find a way to stimulate those feelings into action again one day x.

  12. “So, there you are. Maybe I still โ€œrescueโ€ him. I donโ€™t think I do. I think I am just respecting his right to privacy. Even though he didnโ€™t respect my rights to good sexual health, love, trust and a lifetime partnership based on that love and trust.”
    I had to laugh when I read that…now that’s the Paula I love! LOL!

    BTW, maybe you should have a name that Roger contest?? ๐Ÿ˜‰

    • Well, lonely, I would certainly start that contest up, and maybe rig the result! But somehow I think that he may be even more offended than by me using his real name ๐Ÿ˜‰

  13. Wow, if I promise not to sleep with your husband can I be a guest at your next party? Is Mary Poppins British? If so I’d make a good one ๐Ÿ™‚ I get not using their names for privacy. I use my real one and Lou’s but not my husbands or older children. If it were just me I’d use my first and last name and exact town I live in. However, it’s not and the world is a scary place.

    • Please do, Kelly!

      If I ever hold another party.

      I have gone from being a very social person to somewhat of a hermit. I have in the past few months developed some form of social phobia. I don’t want to go anywhere or see anyone. I just feel very, very anxious and uncomfortable in any social settings now. I would have laughed if someone would have ever suggested that for me a few years ago. But my blogging friends, yeah, come along, maybe that could be my cure ๐Ÿ˜‰ !

      Oh, and BTW, I think you could do a lot better than my partner, he’s nearly 50, bald, and covered in lesions and scars where he has had bits cut off and out of him with skin cancer. Oh, and he is an HPV carrier who doesn’t know how to roll a condom on and he likes ugly bitches. I’m really selling him, huh? I think I’ll trust you not to touch him with a barge pole!

      • Lol well in that case I promise I won’t sleep with him. I’m not his type anyway, I don’t have a smoking body, I can control my kids, I don’t sleep with married men, I don’t look at other women’s husbandsโ€ฆshit I’m boring and old.

        Maybe someday I will host a blogging party, I’d like to see my husbands face as a bunch of angry, been betrayed, slightly crazy women arrived at our home for the weekend to visit with his angry, crazy, betrayed wife.

        I make a mean Pina Colada ๐Ÿ™‚

      • Ooooh, pick me, pick me – I love Pina Coladas (I’m sure I would, anything boozy and tropical – except coffee is good for me!) You don’t know boring and old, Kelly. Leanne is 47 and is literally THE most boring person I have met – no sense of humour, only reads the accountancy professional magazines and tabloids, so no interesting general knowledge, and googly, too-close-together eyes sticking out of blotchy old lady skin, usually encased in a grey cardy and maybe what I call menopause pants – you know, those 3/4 pants, often cargoes, with pockets, etc, that tall, thin people think are okay for casual apparel, and old, short, round ladies also mistakenly think are okay – yeah, Leanne fits the tall and thin category, but she still looks like a dick in them! I think you might just be ever-so-slightly better than that ๐Ÿ˜‰ .

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