Another Woman: A Series About My Role in Infidelity

Home wrecker. Side chick. Mistress.

A rose by any other name will bear the same thorns. When you add an unannounced third party, the situation changes—for better or worse. Compared to 66 Days of No Sex, this series documents not a future of restraint, but a history of indulgence.

This is my experience as the other woman.

From singular lapses of judgement to the repeated and calculated violations of exclusivity, I’m sharing my perspective of disrupted relationships from the inside. I’ll write about broader realizations from experiencing it firsthand and include scattered thoughts I haven’t sorted so nicely yet (and may never).

I’ve titled this “Another Woman” instead of “The Other Woman” because it’s counterintuitive to think of my love life as secondary to someone else’s. I’m fascinated by the idea of “otherness” in relationships—it’s like I’m an out-of-place chapter in a couple’s fairytale, an amendment to another woman’s happily ever after. Or maybe the couple is the one making an appearance in my storybook.

What’s crazy is my story doesn’t necessarily make their final draft. The fairytale can still be printed in black and white, omitting detrimental details as if the affair never occurred. Sometimes, I worry that not talking about certain things deludes us into thinking they don’t happen.

Why I am writing this

To give a voice to the silent participant. We hear stories from all other spectrums—the heartbreakers and the heartbroken, brooding and blissful singles, disgruntled and happy couples—but rarely does someone in my shoes willingly step into the limelight (without first being broadcast on national news for an affair with the POTUS). This side of the story stays under wraps for obvious reasons: damage to one’s reputation, shame, guilt, and even loyalty to the cheater. But it’s necessary to tell every side of the story, especially when the stakes are a generation’s understanding of modern love and commitment, in ideology and in practice.

To challenge society’s perception and fetishization of monogamy. I question whether there is more than one path to romantic fulfillment and life-long companionship. Mutual monogamy can be a beautiful thing, but it shouldn’t be the only socially accepted practice. Especially when not everyone is capable of or interested in exclusive relationships. Especially when our actions indicate otherwise. Especially when a cookie-cutter prescription to dating could hold some people back from a truly satisfying way of living and loving.

To reframe the complicated dynamic of relationships. I have a word-vomit list of lofty factors I want to address, including the role of timing, self-interest, emotional and physical involvement, discretion vs. public recognition, temptation and opportunity, and much more.

To spur conversation and reflection on a personal level. If this series can encourage self-reflection or spark an honest discussion between two people about intentions and expectations in dating and companionship, then I will have accomplished what I wanted.

Why I am NOT writing this

To clear my name. This is about revelation, not redemption.

To apologize for what I did. It would be insincere of me to claim remorse, or to say I’ve undergone a moral transformation since the first incident. It’s a process, and not necessarily one of progress.

To out someone’s infidelity specifically. Real names will not be used, and identities will not be confirmed or denied.

My obligation as a writer is to share pieces of my reality, even if the truth may not present me in a flattering light and especially if the truth may not otherwise be known. I find that purpose to be greater than my personal reputation.

I want to thank you for reading up to this point, for giving this endeavor a chance and your time, and for allowing me a platform to share a vulnerable part of my life.