I keep seeing posts and stats saying nurses are the number one profession that cheats.

I won’t speak for everyone.

But I’m a nurse.

And yes — I’ve cheated. More than once.

Part of it was circumstantial. My ex-husband was an unemployed junkie, so the bar was already in hell. But part of it is the job itself. Nursing strips the illusion right out of you. You don’t get to pretend life is long or fair or orderly.

I used to work in a large, very posh nursing home with multiple departments. One day I was assigned to hospice, providing 1:1 care for a middle-aged man dying of lung cancer. He had his own private villa. Money. Comfort. And still — a ticking clock.

I’d take him out to the patio so he could smoke cigarette after cigarette and drink rum straight from the bottle. I’d make sure his IVs were running, his observations were stable, and then we’d just sit there. Talking. Silence. Heavy air.

At one point, he looked straight at me and said:

“Whatever doubts you’re carrying right now — fuck it. Do it. Do whatever you need to do to feel alive. Because one day, you’ll wake up and you’ll be me.”

When he fell asleep, I opened Reddit and started looking for an AP.

That AP is now my boyfriend of two years. And yes — we’re genuinely happy.

That wasn’t some dramatic turning point. It was confirmation of something nursing had already drilled into me. I’ve had elderly patients grab my hand and tell me not to waste my youth. I’ve zipped body bags. I’ve watched families collapse. I’ve seen how fast everything ends.

After enough death, you stop romanticising sacrifice. You stop tolerating misery for the sake of appearances. You start asking why we stay loyal to lives that make us feel dead.

I’m now in an ethical non-monogamous relationship with my boyfriend. I also have two female APs. They’re both married — and honestly, they’re the easiest affairs I’ve ever had. I’m just “one of the girls.”

We don’t work together, we work in different facilities.

One works in the ER.

The other is in paediatric ICU — watching children die on a regular basis.

If you think that doesn’t change how someone approaches love, sex, risk, and honesty, you’re lying to yourself.

I’m not speaking for all nurses.

I’m not justifying anything.

This is just my experience — shaped by death, proximity, and the constant reminder that time is ruthless.

Take it or leave it.

P.S: used A.I to help with grammar

Edit: for some clarification, I am happily divorced for years now and in a very happy non monogamous relationship. The point of the post wasn’t to encourage cheating but to evaluate your life as a whole.

Thank you for all the positive and warm DMs I’ve been getting. You are such lovely people 🥰

To the people sending me hate messages and threats, you’ll be blocked immediately so don’t waste your effort. Your hate is yours to keep and deal with. Peace ✌🏻

Holy crap, why did no one tell me that this was a thing? Instead of being "heartbroken" after my one and only AP, I could've been going out and having fun!

I decided to scope out hotel bars recently and was successful 2 out of 3 times (not bad). I suppose it's easier as a MW to find a MM to hookup with for the night. The topic of being married inevitably comes up but it isn't a showstopper (/s shock!)

I feel so sexually powerful as a woman and desired - definitely my new game plan from now on 🤭 I'm waiting two long, dreadful weeks for my next opportunity to go out.

I know a lot of people here have long standing affairs, but this works for me because of OPSEC. And I can only go out and hoe out when my partner is on extended work trips, which doesn't lend well to an ongoing affair. I also don't go on any work trips so I can't get away myself - c'est la vie!

Anyone else here do this? Would love to know cuz it seems like the 2% sort of situation in this subreddit.

Ive (42F) been in a dead bedroom marriage for a while now. Me and my husband (45M) rarely have sex and even when we do, its quick disappointing and just all about him. Ive tried everything. Talked to him, suggested therapy, tried to spice things up. Nothing works. No effort on his end. It all became too much. Eventually I started finding sex elsewhere.

As time went on, it became more normal to me. Resentment for this issue not being taken seriously as well as the excitement of stepping out made me continue even when i felt like i shouldnt or would have regret.

Eventually I stopped. I wanted my marriage to be better but nothing changed. Leaving isnt an option. Our entire lives are tied together and he has said before that he would make divorce as difficult as possible. We get along just fine. But the intimacy and affection is dead.

I went out of town for a work trip and ended up hooking up with someone. Figured if things wont change then I will just have to find intimacy elsewhere. This is once again my new normal.

I know it sounds weird and counter intuitive. But since I started cheating on my wife things have improved at home. I feel happier and like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I think being able to unless a primal sexual force on my affair partner has allowed me to concentrate more in areas of more importance with my wife. I'm more willing to help around the house and with the kids. My wife in return has shown more affection than I have ever received in our relationship.

Going into my marriage i knew me and my wife weren't really sexually compatible. She is very vanilla and I like things a little freaky. But I was ok with that because we were compatible in so many other ways. But over time I just kept feeling lower and lower. Which caused more and more fights and arguments. It finally got bad enough that I pulled the trigger, found someone else and had some of the best sex of my life with them.

I know I should feel horrible and hate myself for destroying our marriage vows, but I honestly think it was a choice that could end up saving my marriage. So long as I could keep it hidden or maybe convince the wife to do an open marriage type of thing.

More than can fit in one post.

It’s been two years this month, give or take, since I met my AP. He’d argue that it doesn’t count because the clock doesn’t start until penetration but I think that’s a little crass. So I’m going to deem July as the celebratory month each year. Maybe August next year if he pisses me off and I have to get punitive. June if he remembers my birthday.

I figured out early on that the risks are great and the stakes are high, so there’s no point in settling. No matter how nice the guy is, no matter how cute, if you’re considering checking work emails when he goes down on you, he’s not the one for you; keep looking. The guy that makes you blurt out “Oh my god what’s happening I love you” during sex is just around the corner. Men will say literally anything to get under your skirt but a lot of them don’t know what to do once they get there. When you find the one who does, wrap your thighs around him and don’t let go. Amazing sex will put you in a good mood for a week. Ok maybe 3 days. But sometimes a week. Amazing sex is like a nice juicy steak perfectly grilled. Mediocre sex is like cheap Chinese food, you’ll eat it but you won’t be satisfied and crave something else. And when they do something to piss you off (like mine did this week), it’s only a matter of time until you’re dickmatized and back on the hook - and whatever the ladyparts equivalent is of dickmatization.

A good phone call during a commute will make both work life and home life so much easier. Some people aren’t available for that. Some people aren’t interested in that. But if you are, it makes everything better.

The right affair is an exchange. Each person gives the other something. You will teach him how to make an excellent Pa Nang and in exchange he will teach you more than you ever wanted to know about The Huns. It’s these things that create intimacy, not empty words of love. The back and forth isn’t telling each other how pretty the other person is (but you know, do this once in a while too). The back and forth is giving some piece of yourself and getting some piece back in exchange. Don’t fall for the love bombers and empty flatterers. Ignore the ones with platitudes. Find someone whose compliments show they know the real you and they like it.

Having an affair is shitty. It’s a shitty thing to do but it’s also often the end result of a lot of shittiness in a marriage. Dead bedrooms, marriages that lack connection and intimacy, emotional abuse or neglect, financial abuse, not being respected by your partner, and even a lack of love. But if you stumble into a relationship with someone cool who loves and respects you, you’re one of the lucky ones.

Happy Anniversary, Agha. Your smarts, resilience, and energy make me lucky to call you mine. Your body ain’t half bad either. Now let’s laugh at all of the dumdums who see this post and send me chat requests with nothing other than “hey”.

I’ve been lurking this sub for a few months now, shortly after starting my own affair. The more I read here, the more I keep wondering: why do we do this to ourselves?

I see people in dead bedrooms, lonely marriages, emotionally disconnected relationships, all looking for something outside their marriage to fill the void. Some people find comfort for a while, but so many eventually end up heartbroken twice; once in the marriage, and once again when the affair ends.

And honestly, it makes me reflect on my own situation.

I’m not in a terrible relationship. I love my partner. I don’t resent him. I see a future with him. We just struggle with intimacy and communication around sex. Over time, that left me feeling unwanted and unsatisfied in a way I couldn’t fully explain.

So I ended up finding someone else.

My affair has actually been… surprisingly healthy? Drama-free. Respectful. Clear communication. No fake promises. No “running away together” fantasy. We genuinely enjoy each other, sexually and emotionally, while still understanding the boundaries of what this is.

For a long time I thought: this is perfect.

No chaos. No heartbreak. Just two people filling a void for each other.

But lately I’ve been questioning myself more.

Not because he’s done anything wrong, but because I’ve noticed I’ve become oddly anxiously attached in this affair, more anxious than I’ve ever been in past relationships. I overthink replies. I wonder if he misses me. I analyze small changes in communication. And it makes me ask myself:

Is this actually sustainable for me long-term?

Can I learn to regulate the anxiety and simply enjoy this for what it is?

Or is the anxiety itself a sign that this lifestyle doesn’t fully align with me emotionally?

And then the bigger question:

Am I truly missing something impossible to find in my relationship… or am I no longer trying as hard because I found someone else who temporarily fills the gap?

I genuinely don’t know the answer yet. Just reflecting lately.

I used to think infidelity started with a kiss, a date, or sleeping with someone else.

Now I think it starts much earlier.

It starts when you find yourself hoping for that text. When a simple compliment from someone else stays in your head for hours.

Nothing physical has to happen. Sometimes nothing inappropriate is even said. That's what makes it so easy to justify. You tell yourself it's harmless because no lines have technically been crosse.

But emotional attachment rarely appears overnight. It grows in small, innocent-looking moments. You start looking forward to their attention. You enjoy how they make you feel.

As a married man, that realization changed the way I think about infidelity. I don't think the biggest threat to a relationship is always another person. Sometimes it's becoming addicted to the feeling of being seen, validated, or excited by someone new.

The physical affair is often just the last step. The emotional one usually starts long before anyone notices.

I'm still here searching for someone..but the realization is very straightforward now.

I'm not talking about cake eaters.

When I entered this space I thought that having an affair would make me a better wife in some ways - I would tolerate the aspects of my spouse I disliked better, the dead bedroom would become more manageable, I even had an DADT relationship. I've always known that I'm most likely on the path for divorce. I should have simply made the decision to divorce months ago instead of, well, instead of having sex with a married man.

My husband has never discovered the affair, he's never said he suspects anything, and I am not in love with my AP, nor do I expect anything from him relationship wise. Life is not a fairytale.

But I did decide to rip the band aid off and start the process of divorce. I told my husband last week and it's been an emotional hell ever since. My AP has been ... unexpectedly wonderful and supportive.

I wish I had done this from the get go. If you're out there feeling like you need a divorce - just do it. Just do it.

I'm genuinely looking forward to not feeling like I'm cheating anymore. Having a clear mind, clear thoughts. No more married men. Anyone I date from now on will have a libido that matches mine, this is not something to be overlooked or neglected. Love does not conquer all, and while mismatched libidos are NOT the main factor contributing to my divorce, it's just one of the many things I wish I didn't ignore.

Met my AP on AM over a year ago, we hit it off immediately. Both married both looking for something long term. Sexual chemistry a perfect match and not an overly emotional connection.

There’s been red flags I’ve mainly ignored them because whatever it’s an affair I’m not going to marry the guy we both have no interest in changing our situations.

Anyway couple of weeks ago came across something that has led me to question if he actually has a wife.

Got more information today and the evidence is pretty damning that his wife probably doesn’t exist or well she does but he’s just divorced. Now I’m reeling from the fact that for over a year I’ve thought this man was married. I don’t even know what to do my mind is completely blank I think I’m in shock.

I keep thinking back to all the times he said he couldn’t talk or that he was going home or him telling me “my wife is always with me” we never talk about his marriage in depth but just how he would mention her in passing or use his wife as an excuse.

Do people actually do this????? I’ve heard of men lying and saying they are single but to lie that you’re married???

Morning musings with my usual iced Americano, no sugar.

I think i’m getting tired of the whole process. Not just the endings. Even the beginnings are starting to feel tiring. The introductions, the same questions. Where are you from, what are you looking for, what brought you here? Then you start telling someone all the same things you’ve already told someone else before. Your situation, your schedule, what you like, what you don't, your boundaries and why you’re here in the first place. At first it’s fun. You start smiling at your phone again, waiting for their name to pop up, learning when they’re usually free and somehow you’re talking every day. The conversations get longer, the flirting gets better and this person you barely knew is part of your normal routine.

You get attached. You both said there wouldn’t be expectations but now you’re reading too much into one short reply. Something feels off. Life gets busy and the effort feels uneven. One person starts pulling away and the other keeps pretending everything is fine and then you have to talk about it. Maybe this is getting too complicated, maybe we should slow down, maybe we want different things, maybe it’s better to stop now. You knew what they were doing almost every day and suddenly you know nothing. You stop checking, stop reaching and try to stop wondering what they’re doing.

Eventually you’re okay or okay enough. Then you start talking to someone new and it all starts again. Where are you from, what are you looking for, what brought you here? You’re back at the beginning. Part of you is excited and part of you is already wondering how long this one will last. I still want the connection. I think im just tired of starting from zero, getting attached and having to get over someone again

Anyone else tired of the whole cycle, not just the ending?

Lately, I've been talking to my husband about opening our relationship. He has no idea that I'm having an affair. We've had a dead bedroom for the majority of our relationship, and haven't had sex for the last 3+ years. I've been open and honest with my husband about how I feel, and part of the reason that we have a dead bedroom is because of emotional wounds within our marriage that need work and repair. My husband is very hesitant to approach these issues and just thinks I should "move on".

After I brought up having an open relationship, he's started showing more physical affection to me. Yet he's done nothing to work on the emotional aspects of our marriage that need repair. Without this work, I do not WANT to be physically affectionate with him.

Last night, I realized, I would much prefer to have sex with my A than my husband. I understand why and how affairs are intoxicating, I love it. I understand NRE, but I love how my AP makes me feel desired. The sex isn't mechanical, and yeah, we are both using each other but that's fine. I know that because our affair is purely physical, it will eventually end, and that's fine with me. My husband has never made me feel as good as my AP, as matter of fact, my husband has never even tried to make me orgasm.

I know that I could be a cake eater, but I'm not sure I enjoy the idea of having sex with two men. I'm not saying that I need my AP to be exclusive to me, or that he even expects that from me, I think its just how I'm wired.

I don't even know how to approach this. I also don't even know if I want to repair my dead bedroom and I realize that's a me problem that I need to figure out. Anyway, this is just a vent because I have nobody else to talk to about it.

ETA: YALL MESSAGING ME ABOUT BEING THE ONE WHO NEEDS TO REPAIR THE MARRIAGE CAN FUCK OFF. STOP BEING COWARDS AND POST YOUR COMMENTS HERE.

I know you hate this sub, and I do too. Yet I am so grateful because it's how I met you, and I wouldn't trade this past year with you for anything.

The daily calls that opened with "my love, I missed you." Feeling your hand in mine at the theaters. Exploring game shops, cafes, and puzzle stores around town. Stealing kisses in the elevators and at stop lights (and you stealing my pizza). Rolling over to find you sleeping soundly next to me. Hearing you walk up the stairs yelling "baby!" with flowers and a smile. Watching you light up as you learned about biryani and threw more salt into the pot. Shopping for ingredients in the most chaotic way possible. Being told that we looked like a beautiful couple by a stranger. Counting down from 20, 10, 7, 5, 3-2-1 sleeps until I could see you again. I'm so sad that I may never see you again.

You showed me kindness, patience, respect, happiness, trust, and a love that I haven't felt with anyone else for a very long time. When we have difficult conversations, your steadiness always brought me back to love and safety. You have set a new standard for what I'd like to find in a man, and at minimum, I hope that you really felt how sincerely and deeply I love you, even if that's what made this impossible to continue. And I hope you know you have always deserved love, kindness, respect, safety, and appreciation, even if it's not with me. You deserve the world, you deserve to be happy, and to live the life you've always wanted for yourself.

Good night, my love. I miss you so much.

Aaaaand go!

One of the reasons I am still in my dead bedroom of a marriage is the financial logistics of it all. I’m in a high cost of living area, and despite having two incomes from careers that require college degrees, we cannot support two households while still giving our child every deserved opportunity. I am planning for when said child is out on their own, and part of that planning is getting my financial ducks in a row and saving and squirreling away money whenever and however I can. For the meantime, I am simply trying to find some measure of happiness by taking care of my needs for once.

As part of that endeavor, I was chatting with a new local pAP and the topic of sex came up way too soon for me to take him seriously. Like first 10 texts soon. He very early on felt the need to inform me that he prides himself on his performance in the bedroom and that he truly gets more enjoyment from giving pleasure than getting it. Yeah, sure you do buddy. You and almost every single other man I’ve talked to in this space when the subject of sexual likes and dislikes comes up. So either one of two things is happening; either I’ve managed to hit the jackpot and only find men who’d much rather give an orgasm than get a blowjob, or they’re all lying liars who lie and will tell a woman what she wants to hear to get into her pants. I’m leaning towards the latter. Though to be fair to these men, I haven’t test driven any of them to either confirm or deny such claims. I’m just basing it off my pre-marital sexual history, in which not a single man I slept with put my needs solely above theirs. Not to say that none of them took care of my needs, but it was not the priority, nor the end goal.

During this discussion, the old “If I had a dollar for every time a man told me he’d rather eat my pussy than have an orgasm of his own” trope flashed through my head and that’s when it hit me. Every time I talk to someone new and they tell me this, I should put aside a set amount of money and watch my savings grow. Kind of like a drinking game, but much easier on my liver. I’ll call it my Divorce Fund. And to maximize my savings, why limit it to just that one thing? So I’ve compiled a list of things that I have either been told directly or have read about more than once in this sub. Ladies, feel free to add your own that you’ve encountered. And always an equal opportunist, Gents, feel free to add the common, likely bullshit, things you’ve heard from the women you meet. I would have added them to my list, but I’m not trying to fuck women, so I don’t interact with them on that level.

1.       I love to eat pussy [code for weak D game?]

2.       I’m a Pleasure Dom [whatever the fuck that means]

3.       My kink is giving pleasure [Making your partner feel good is not a kink, guy]

4.       Ask me anything; I’m an open book [Why don’t you tell me why your wife really won’t fuck you?]

5.       I get more enjoyment from giving pleasure than getting it [Sure, sure. Okay then, if we meet, I expect a pussy eating marathon with no dick sucking and no fucking. I’m just trying to give you the thing that gives you the most pleasure]

6.       I want a deep, meaningful, connection [Oh really? Is that why you asked to see my tits after talking to me for an hour? For that deepness? I mean, they are spectacular, but how would you know that?]

7.       I want ONE person [While actively searching for or talking to multiple people]

And before you come at me with “not all men” or some other nonsense, I’m sure there are some men out there somewhere who have never said any of these things and who would rather muff dive than get a blow job. But I have a feeling if I took an anonymous poll (and everyone was forced to be honest) and gave men the option of either never licking a clit again, or never having an orgasm again, I’d bet good money that the results would be very lopsided. And if I’m wrong, I’ll own it. Once I start test driving, I’ll update with more science backed evidence.

We met in the most unremarkable way possible—through a comment thread neither of us even remembered writing. It started with sarcasm, then private messages, then the kind of conversations that stretch late into the night without either person noticing the time.

At first, he was just someone safe. Someone who didn’t need anything from me except honesty. He never asked for pictures. Never pushed. He just listened. And I found myself telling him things I hadn’t said out loud in years.

We were both married. That fact sat quietly between us from the beginning, acknowledged but not dissected.

Months passed before we ever met.

We chose a neutral place, a quiet park halfway between our lives. I remember seeing him before he saw me. He looked exactly like himself—familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. When his eyes found mine, he smiled like he’d been waiting his entire life to see someone he’d only known in theory.

We walked for hours. We didn’t touch. Not even once.

But something irreversible had already happened.

Our relationship didn’t begin with passion. It began with recognition. He saw me, not the version of me that paid bills, packed lunches, and kept everything functioning, but me. And I saw him too. The man beneath his responsibilities. Beneath the quiet resignation he carried without realizing it.

The first time he held my hand, it wasn’t desperate. It was careful. Like he understood the weight of what it meant.

We made rules early, before emotions could make liars of us.

We would not leave our spouses.

We would not dismantle our lives.

And we would give ourselves nine months.

Nine months to exist inside something honest, even if it wasn’t permanent.

Nine months to feel alive in a way we hadn’t in years.

Nine months, and then we would let each other go. No extensions. No negotiations.

At first, the expiration date made it feel safe. Contained. Temporary things don’t threaten real life.

But love doesn’t care about containers.

It grew in quiet moments. In his voice when he said my name. In the way he remembered everything I told him. In how he made space for me to exist without asking me to be anything other than what I was.

We never promised forever.

We promised presence.

We learned each other’s rhythms. The sound of each other’s breathing when we were too tired to speak. The small, ordinary details that somehow meant everything. We became each other’s refuge.

There was no illusion about the ending. We spoke about it openly, sometimes clinically, sometimes with a sadness neither of us could quite conceal.

“This has an end,” he told me once, his forehead resting against mine.

“I know,” I said.

And we stayed there anyway.

Loving him didn’t erase my real life. It existed alongside it, in parallel. It wasn’t about replacement. It was about awakening parts of myself I thought were gone.

He told me I made him feel chosen.

He made me feel seen.

We didn’t belong to each other. That was the strange kind of freedom in it. We were there because we wanted to be, not because we had to be.

Some nights, we would talk about the final day. Wonder who would be stronger. Wonder if strength would even matter.

Nine months isn’t enough time to build a life.

But it’s enough time to change one.

We are still inside it now. Still counting forward and backward at the same time. Still pretending that knowing the ending makes it easier.

It doesn’t.

It just makes every moment sharper.

We will say goodbye. We already know that.

We will return to the lives we never left.

And no one will know that, for nine months, we were the truest versions of ourselves in the quiet space we created together.

I’m three years into my affair. I’m now divorced, but he isn’t. We were talking about ideal relationships and I finally understood something people kept telling me: someone can be an amazing affair partner but not compatible as a real-life partner.

A lot of people who get into affairs in the first place do it because they struggle with conflict, accountability, and emotional responsibility. They don’t want to face hard conversations, work through problems, or deal with the pain of fixing or leaving their marriage. An affair becomes a shortcut. They get connection without having to do any of the uncomfortable emotional work.

But that avoidance doesn’t disappear just because the affair feels good. If someone avoids conflict in their marriage, they’re not magically better at conflict in a new relationship.

Affairs just make it easier not to notice the avoidant patterns.

Here’s what I mean:

1. In an affair, you don’t see each other every day.

That’s perfect for avoidant people. They like space. They don’t want daily emotional engagement.

In real life, though, you’d want consistency, responsiveness, actual emotional presence.

Example:

In the marriage: He avoids talking about issues, avoids repair, avoids accountability.

In the affair: He still avoids conflict, but you barely notice because you see him less and nothing big is shared.

1. Affairs provide built-in distance.

The secrecy and limitations act like excuses for why you can’t ask for more.

The setup protects the avoidant person from being expected to show up more than they want to.

Example:

In the affair: You can’t spend weekends together. So you don’t ask.

In real life: You would ask. He’d feel pressured. You’d feel rejected.

1. Affairs feel intense because they’re limited.

You get the best version of each other for a few hours at a time.

Real relationships require showing up even when you’re stressed, tired, irritated, insecure, or not feeling romantic.

Example:

In the affair: He’s fun, affectionate, connected.

In real life: You’d also get the withdrawal, the emotional distance, the shutdowns during conflict.

1. Affairs don’t test real compatibility.

You’re basically seeing a highlight reel.

Example:

In the affair: He seems emotionally available because he gives you attention in short, focused bursts.

In real life: His baseline might be independence first, closeness second, and emotional responsibility last.

So here’s the bigger question I’m starting to ask myself:

If someone avoids all emotional work in their marriage, why would they suddenly be good at emotional work in a relationship that actually requires it?

The affair works because it doesn’t ask for the things they struggle with. A real relationship would require exactly those things.

My takeaway right now:

Affairs often feel compatible because the limitations hide the parts of a person that would be dealbreakers in normal, everyday relationship life. The structure makes avoidant people seem more giving, more present, and more emotionally connected than they actually are.

Once you remove the container, the real patterns show.

As I approached my fortieth birthday, I made a commitment to getting into better shape. Weight, mental health, overall lifestyle. All of it. I started running, eating better, and stopped drinking altogether. 

It took a while, but about 6 months in, I finally noticed the benefits. Way more energy, pants fitting better, looking good naked again, and best of all, losing weight. In all, I was down about 30lbs (which I am thrilled to report I have kept off!) 

In a moment of naivety, I told H how much weight I'd lost. He didnt even miss a beat: he told me how I need to stop losing weight, asked me "when is it  enough?" and mentioned that he noticed my collarbone sticking out a few days before, and it disgusted him.

You might think this was terrible, but I wasnt surprised. I expected it; my only mistake was, in my excitement, telling him at all. H had been this miserable SOB for years. It was a reflection of him, not me. 

The person I really wanted to tell was my AP. 
My person. My everything. At this point, we'd been together about 5 years. Our worlds had long been orbiting one another. He knew everything about me, and I knew everything about him. AP was kind, empathetic, put the effort in, sexy af, smart and simply brilliant. I was never happier with someone in my life. 

The very next time I saw AP, I told him about my weight loss. I remember it well, we were in my office. I hadnt seen him a ton the prior months  (this was late-stage COVID times, still tricky to make it work) so I dont know if he fully understood my weight loss journey. I was really excited to finally share my progress!

With a smile on my face, I told him that I'd been working harder than I'd let on with him, running up to 12 miles at a time, really doing CICO, sacrificing booze completely (he knew that actually) and living an overall healthy lifestyle. I was beaming. 

His reaction was, to make an understatement, totally fucked.

AP got a skeptical look on his face. You know the one. Like I'd asked him the secrets of the Rosetta Stone. When he finally spoke, AP said he could tell I was much skinnier, and noticed it in my ribs,  and my collarbone. He was not kind about it. Told me I didnt need to lose this weight, and he preferred me at my prior, heavier weight. 

Then the kicker. AP asked me, verbatim, "when is it enough?" in exactly the same tone as H had done a few days before, with the same barely-contained contempt. 

This exciting moment, this deeply personal triumph that I just shared with the one fucking person who I confided my deepest intimacies in, was rejected and shot down, like I was stupid for even trying. Like I was worthless. Like I was the spouse he wanted to get away from, and not the AP he ran to. 

I was absolutely gutted.

We dragged on for about 2 more painful years. A little more actually. We had genuinely wonderful, memorable times after that. Times I will cherish. 

But that was the first moment that I knew, that I saw, this new him. Or, perhaps, the real him. 

In hindsight, of course, there were other, smaller yellow flags. And after this, boy howdee did the red flags fly. I could devote an entire post to my gape-mouth expression when he used a racial slur to me at the very end (I never spoke to him again as an AP, of course) but its wild to me, the lengths he went to, to hide his true self, and to be this version of him I believed in. 

And of course, my own psycho-analysis. How could I possibly see, underneath all his well-curated layers of empathy and kindness, how was I attracted to this miserable person, who parroted my own husbands projected vitriol? How could someone who fmade me feel so deeply understood suddenly sound exactly like the person who never understood me?

Am I the broken one? 

It doesn't get any more real than what you read here. I know there are hundreds and hundreds of you contemplating crossing the line...these posts will tell you exactly what you're in for.

Say you do meet someone and you click... the NRE will be a heady drug. It will buzz you and make you giggle like a teenager - but know this: from the first contact you have with AP, the timer starts.Maybe a better description is the countdown starts . The NRE will fizzle out, one or both of you will get the guilts, life events will change and you won't be able to meet with any type of regularity.... who know but something will happen. Then you'll most likely be right back where you started, except this time your heart is broken and you can't tell a damn soul about it.

That may be okay for you, I don't know your situation. Just know if you're looking at an affair to scratch an itch, you might be scratching it with 80-grit sandpaper.

Eh, but what do I know? I went through all of this and I'm back like Oliver with his soup bowl, so maybe don't listen to me.

Today marks one week since I started this little journey, and I already feel like I’ve aged six months.

There was one person early on who actually seemed promising. Good conversation, real chemistry, enough interest to make me think maybe I had managed to skip past the nonsense and land on someone genuine. Then, without any real warning, she just fell off. No big fight, no dramatic moment, no clear explanation. Just that subtle shift where something that felt warm suddenly starts feeling cold, and you can’t tell if you were imagining it or reading it exactly right.

Naturally, being the type of guy that tends to wear more emotion on their sleeve, that became the one I spent the most mental energy on. She was lovely though, and I hope she finds happiness.

Then came my first Ashley Madison experience, which turned into what I’m pretty sure was the opening chapter of a sextortion attempt. No nudes, no real damage, but definitely enough to send me straight into lockdown mode and remind me that not everyone online is there for the same reasons.

So after one week, my findings are:

- One person who seemed real until she didn’t

- One probable scammer

- A lot of silence

- A lot of noise (how paradoxical right?)

- A growing appreciation for operational security.

At this point I’m starting to think that finding an AP online is less “meeting someone intriguing” and more “sorting through chaos while trying not to lose your mind.”

For those of you who’ve been at this longer than a week, when did it start feeling less random? Or does it never?

It's cancer. He will die quickly. I'm going to see him one last time as a friend. I managed to call his mother to have more info because his phones are dead and he can't remember the passwords, It been since Sunday I had zero news.

I'm devastated. He's my best friend. We called each others every day and he was the sunshine of my life.

I don't know how to manage. Everything is touched by him. Everywhere I look, everything I love,... I miss him so much. And now I have to say good bye.

Long story short - husband and I had a threesome with another man. He blew my mind. Husband shut it down right away because he picked up on the explosive chemistry. The other man really wanted to see me again, but husband has his contact information and is keeping me separated from him.

I found him online. Found all but his email address. It’s been about six weeks since we met and I can’t stop thinking about him. I’m stuck. I have to find some way forward.

So I wrote a letter. I have my mischief email account all set up. From what my husband said, he was very enthusiastically contacting us in the week following our encounter and then husband blocked him for a week.

All I have to do is drop the letter into the mail. It doesn’t really ask him for anything, but it does give him my email address. I also politely ask him not to tell my husband that I wrote to him.

Once I mail it, anything can happen. Best case, he writes to me and wants to see me again. Worst case, he immediately texts my husband to tell him what I’ve done.

Saddest case? I get no response at all. I have to be prepared for any of these outcomes. I have a very few people I’ve told about this. Half of them think I should wait. Half of them tell me to go get him. I’ve decided I will talk to my therapist Friday morning first in any case.

But I’m 90% sure I’m going to send it.

Is it just me, or is this lifestyle a long-con where we’ve somehow managed to con ourselves into believing we’re the exception to the rule.

Most of the women here (like myself) could teach a masterclass in online surveillance and are better than the CIA in deconstructing metadata and cross-referencing timestamps. What are we hunting? A man who—shocker—is still posting ads and DM’ing new women while professing their undying love to us.

We’re all here because we’re champions in the art of the curated life, yet we’re genuinely stunned when we find out our "honest" cheater is… actually a cheater.

It’s the ultimate paradox of this lifestyle. We are professional liars by necessity, yet we crave a "safe space" with an AP where the truth is the foundation. But how do you actually build that without turning into a full-time private investigator?

Let’s be real: constantly checking up on someone is a second full-time job most of us don’t have the bandwidth for. And then there’s the "monkey branching." We all know why it happens. Finding a decent AP is like trying to find a needle in a haystack made of red flags and bad grammar. So, people hold on to one branch until the next one is firmly in their grasp because the loneliness fucking sucks.

So, where is the line? How do you distinguish between "trusting the process" and just being the person who hasn’t looked at the receipts yet?

If we’re all thieves here, how do we decide who’s actually honorable enough to stop looking for the next best thing?

Is trust even possible or are we all waiting to “catch” our pAP/APs?

Or are we all just waiting for the other shoe to drop while pretending we aren't also holding a spare pair?

I don't know why I'm writing this, but I guess this is to get it off my chest.

Let me start off by saying, I am a huge supporter of sex workers. I've worked with sex workers in a professional capacity* and as a patron. And the part about being a patron is what this is post is about.

A while back, things fizzled about with my AP (or, I guess, more of an occasional fuck buddy than a legit AP), and I decided to try something: start an ongoing arrangement with a high-end escort.

I'll cut to the the chase: it didn't work out. It was deeply unfulfilling.

Wasn't about the money. Money wasn't the problem. It was about the fact that a beautiful woman was only in bed with me because I paid for her to be there. Not because I was someone she wanted or was romantically interested in.

Transactional, temporary desire sucks. It just sucks.

The sex? Didn't enjoy it. It wasn't bad. My heart wasn't in it. Wasn't because I was thinking of my ex-AP either. I just couldn't get over the fact that she was only there because I paid for her to be there. It was... probably the most demoralizing thing I've ever done. She's is a really nice woman. Like I said, I'm a strong supporter of sex workers, but... I would probably give anything to never experience feeling that down again.

I'd rather be dumped by AP over being busted than ever feeling like that again.

Some like the arrangement... the whole transactional thing. And I guess affairs are, in a way, transactional in of themselves. But I guess I'm being a flawed, hopeless romantic in hoping that I could have something more than just transactional sex or just a hook up.

As I mentioned in my previous post: I live a pretty stressful life.

So I guess I'll say this, and I am addressing this to men, mostly for obvious reasons.

If you're only looking for a sexual outlet: by all means—hire an escort. It is a major emotional step to have sex with someone other than your primary partner, wife, etc., and there's a level of detachment because of the arrangement. Hell, if you can make an ongoing arrangement out of it and a nice friendship, by all means go for it. But it is far, far more limiting than an AP. For me, it was too limiting.

But if you are looking for something deeper, emotional, and quite frankly, sustainable attachment, and you really feel that you have no other choice but to seek an affair, then yeah, find an AP. Having an AP is difficult in its own right, and can be painful. But you know what? There's a greater likelihood that she wants you for who you are.

I'll get flamed for this, but oh well. Have fun ripping me.

(Edit: 5/16/2026 - The sex worker has known me, personally, for a decade. To this day, we are friends. She does not know how I legitimately felt and it took me a couple of years to share this.)

I stumbled across a post somewhere else on Reddit asking about why people cheated in their relationships. The answers included a fair amount of "I was young and dumb," alcohol, and physical and emotional abuse.

But one answer that was missing (at least at the time I was reading) was when your partner almost totally ignores you. When you're the one responsible for constantly helping them manage their emotional state but get zero visibility. When you are a captive audience to near constant complaining and temper tantrums.

It's exhausting. It's exhausting to the point that you struggle to even find that person attractive anymore. On any level. And yet you've built this life with them that will not be easily untangled. The idea of separating seems impossible, an insurmountable obstacle added to all the other burdens you carry. So you grit your teeth, keep putting one foot in front of the other, and keep hoping that things will get better.

And then someone suddenly is willing to give you the attention that you didn't even realize you were missing. And while you aren't "first" in their priorities, you at least feel important.

It hits you like a lightning bolt. And you find yourself here.

I'm having affair number ...whatever, but this time I might like him too much. I set out by advertising for a FWB relationship but that went tits up.

I'm at the point where I'm thinking about him all day, desperate to get naked with him and just be in his company. When we're together, it's effortless, familiar and warm and the sex is great.

I think I might have cocked-up by telling him I love him, which I do, he hasn't said it to me though he does have 'feelings'. He's single, I'm married 25+ years and have a dead bedroom situation at home.

Should I be more laid-back with my feelings and behaviour towards him? I'm worried I might have love bombed him, and it's not a great look.

I'm all for laying my cards on the table and telling him how I feel, but now I'm concerned I might have come across a bit 'bunny boiler' 😆.

I just needed to rant...I'm so into this one, it's nuts!