I Had An Emotional Affair To Save My Marriage

I know you may think I'm a typical midlife crisis fool, but here’s my confession: I had a six-month-long, emotional, virtual affair. And I don't regret it.

In August of last year, I reconnected with an old friend, James*. He was really more of an acquaintance. We ran in similar circles with our work and had a lot of mutual friends in common. We live in different states, so we started talking on the phone more frequently, asking each other for advice about work-related situations or brainstorming creative ideas for projects.

My husband and I have been married for over 20 years, and the last eight have been a struggle. Specifically, he never wants sex — and I do not want to be in a sexless marriage. We've tried counseling, arguments, and reconciling. I have tried sex kits, scheduling sex, begging for sex... but if someone has a low or no sex drive, you can't force them to have sex with you.

I spent years hiding it. I was so ashamed that my husband never wanted me, while all the other wives seemed to complain about their husbands not leaving them alone. When the person you are in love with and to whom you have committed "in sickness and in health" doesn't want you, what do you do? I bought myself sex toys and got myself off as much as I could, which seemed to be nearly every day. My sex drive was at an all-time high.

So, I am the first to admit my marriage was already on shaky ground. But I do love my husband. He struggles with a lot of mental health issues, and the medication has compounded his low sex drive. Should I leave him because of this? I just didn't know what to do.

I couldn't talk to anyone about it because I felt so ashamed, as if there were something fundamentally wrong with me. I questioned my body, my words, my thoughts, my actions. I lay awake every night after he came to bed, hoping he'd hold me. Kiss me. The few times we did have sex, it was my initiation, and the last time ended badly, with him half-hard until we gave up.

Slowly, my confidence diminished until I started to feel unhinged.

James and I started talking even more frequently, with a little vague flirtation in the background. Mutual admiration. Then one day, it changed. We started talking about having an affair. Not an in-real-life, let's-meet-up affair. Just a virtual, playful, flirtatious affair that included lots of sexting and phone sex. We actually hashed out some ground rules right then and there on the phone. We were both down.

At this point, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't already been considering an in-person affair. Even a random hookup was starting to sound appealing to me, after so many years of attempting to revive my husband's and my sex life. But the logistics and the safety issues involved were too overwhelming for me.

James was safe. He was in the same boat as I was: He loved his wife, but he was also craving some excitement and additional stimulation. He was just as careful as I was, clearing chats and making sure only to call or connect when we were in the clear to do so. We had a few codes we'd worked out to let the other know we were free.

I know by most standards (including my own), this is cheating. I'm not saying I didn't cheat on my husband. I guarantee you that if his wife or my husband saw the nature of these steamy exchanges, they would feel 100% betrayed.

The sexual attention from another man changed me, though. It helped me feel desirable in a situation where I no longer felt so. It also helped me realize that, after years of trying to puzzle out what I'd done wrong, it was not me. My husband and I have completely incompatible sex drives, and time and aging have only widened that gap. My husband told me he was content, and that he hardly ever thought of sex (I'm not sure I believe him, but that's a story for another time). I, on the other hand, think about sex all the time.

And at least for a time, I was content to get myself off with the help of one very sexy voice on the other end of the line.

We ended it about six months after it started. We both agreed it was getting complicated, and the desire was honestly kind of fizzling out. Do I regret sending slutty pictures of myself in lingerie that I bought, hoping my husband would suddenly want me? No, I do not. I actually loved every second of it. I was confident in myself, my body, my sultry voice. That I could turn a man on with a mere text, that I did possess that thing I'd thought I'd lost: desire and desirability.

I had thought I was going through perimenopause, in part because of vaginal dryness. Turns out, my vagina just needed more stimulation. Like the kind you get from a hot man on the phone telling you he wants you.

It's over now. And at least for now, I have set aside the idea of having an in-person affair. In fact, I doubt I will. Because at least now I realize the root of the problem is not that I am unattractive. Will my marriage last? I have no idea. If this were a Dear Abby, you'd probably tell me to just leave him because I need to be true to myself. For now, though, I am content once more.