Dear Prudence,
I’m a 45-year-old man, married to a 40-year-old woman, “Jane.” We’ve been together over 10 years and married for seven. When we met, I was five years post-divorce and had just navigated several complicated relationships, but I felt I had grown from those experiences. It was crucial for me to start fresh with anyone new, and I made that clear. Jane mentioned she had also recently come out of a five-year, somewhat casual, on-off relationship. I was drawn to her immediately—she was smart, educated, and beautiful.
Jane shared her history of sexual assault during college, so when we had trouble connecting intimately at first, I decided to be patient. I guess I naively thought it would improve naturally, reminiscent of my past positive experiences. A year later, I suffered a serious spine injury from an organized fight, which required major surgery. While Jane was eager to marry and start a family, I felt there was still a lack of passion from her. I sensed an emotional barrier that I occasionally voiced to her, but she reassured me everything was fine, and she was happy. We got married just before the pandemic and welcomed our daughter in 2021, but then illness plagued us for a couple of years.
As we regained our health, I yearned for a deeper intimacy and better sex life. Jane, however, only wanted to address it when I was virtually ready to seek outside options. Eventually, she agreed to focus on our sex life, but insisted I begin individual therapy first. My therapist encouraged me to discuss Jane’s past and our early relationship. After many painstaking conversations, Jane finally revealed she had been keeping a significant secret.
It turned out she wasn’t single when we met, though she was evasive about the details. This revelation hit me hard—especially knowing I had previously asked if anything from her past might be hindering our connection. Left with the choice to remain in the marriage or delve into our history, I, out of despair, invaded her privacy. What I discovered shocked me.
Jane’s prior relationship was intense, far from casual. She had loved someone who was quite a party animal and had tried for years to “tame” him. They shared incredible chemistry, and for a couple of months into our relationship, she continued sleeping with him, frequently discussing her lingering feelings with friends. It was only after his refusal to change and his new girlfriend that she chose to commit to me.
We’ve been attending couples counseling for several months, yet Jane struggles to acknowledge the pain her deception has caused, especially regarding our relationship. Our therapist often seems more supportive than confrontational, but I’m looking for resources that can outline how deceit and gaslighting undermine a relationship. I’m not ready to abandon my marriage, especially since I can’t imagine being away from our five-year-old daughter.
—Where Do I Go From Here?
Jenée Desmond-Harris: It’s interesting when a letter writer takes the option of ending a troubled marriage off the table!
Lizzie O’Leary: Absolutely! I want to run with that. Jenée, we’re both fans of Couples Therapy, and I’ve been intrigued by how the therapist, Orna Guralnick, centers on the relationship as a whole rather than on individual blame. It seems like you want your counselor to clarify to Jane that she made mistakes, which she definitely did!
But here’s my question for you: Do you want to share articles to express your hurt, or do you want to establish conditions for rebuilding your relationship? People often shy away from punishment. But to rebuild trust, maybe reframing the conversation to request acknowledgment of your pain could be the key.
Jenée: That’s something that frustrates me about therapy sometimes. Occasionally, one partner seems indifferent to the relationship, and it can be tough to see the therapist treating both experiences as equally valid when one person’s actions clearly cause harm. Some relationships perhaps aren’t meant to be saved, but that’s the nature of advice columns.
Still, Lizzie, you’re correct. It might be worthwhile to consider whether an acknowledgment from her would truly benefit you. While that won’t erase what happened, it may lead you to question if you can find happiness moving forward. There could be middle ground—compartmentalizing your feelings for the sake of a greater good could create a path forward. Who knows, maybe with the right support, you and Jane can enter a new chapter.
Lizzie: Yes, I completely agree. Relationships require choices—either to walk away or to engage. You can’t expect someone else to do that work for you; it’s on you two. It’s important to articulate what you need, and if your therapist isn’t providing that space, you might want to seek someone who can help facilitate that conversation.
