The name of B.’s new woman was divulged during the June 19 hearing when she took the stand as his only witness to all the “emotional distress” I was allegedly causing him. And YOU BET I Googled her; what spurned woman wouldn’t? Her name is unique. There is only one of her in the US. She is fucking my Ex.
After a 26-year-long affair, she is the one I was thrown over for.
Her name came up attached to a shop on Etsy.com — for those uninformed, it’s a site where individuals sell various wares through their online Etsy “shops.” She’s since taken her own name off her shop (hmm, did she catch a whiff of me on her trail?) She sells “vintage” women’s clothing (personally, not my style).
Readers know that I’ve “met” this woman by happenstance, so I recognized that headful of gray hair in her Etsy photos. I kept flipping through them, sheer curiosity. And then I came upon several photos taken in the outdoors…
Stopped me dead in my tracks. That’s B.’s deck and his backyard in Michigan! We’ve run our dogs there, played whiffle-ball there, made out there, lain on our backs and watched the clouds go by there. Together. When we were in love.
I know that gravel path that leads up to his cabin. I know she is standing at the NW corner of a deck I often swept. I know that weeping willow tree over her right shoulder was once a twig B. planted near his pond, and it has grown vigorously at that site.
I know this place. I know it all too well.
In fact, ALL of her photos taken outside were taken at B.’s place. The deck and the yard I know as if my own; I’d been there dozens of times. But there she is, his new woman, hawking her supposedly vintage clothes from his home. Ugh.
I shut down Etsy.com and vowed never to return. I am a slave to curiosity, but there is no need for this heartache. The past is best left in the past.
Just like those ugly old clothes.
A former mistress (26 years, on-and-off) describes the good, the bad, and the ugly of her long-term affair. Conclusion: Affairs aren't necessarily destructive if kept in the correct perspective. Our experience enhanced BOTH our marriages.
That is, until his marriage ended and we began to love each other. When the affair morphed into a relationship, well, that's when it stopped being fun for me. We have now irrevocably split.
Lately I've been writing about the man who took his place in the "off" years of that 26-year-long affair. He was a dynamic sexual partner but we, too, now have irrevocably split.
These are our stories.