WHY I CHEAT ON MY WIFE
This anonymous writer says he loves his spouse and strays only because she’s no longer interested in having sex since their children came along
THE birth of your children is supposed to be the pinnacle of married life. So, after almost 20 years of marriage and with two fantastic daughters, am I thanking my lucky stars my wife and I made the leap from partners to parents? In short, no. The truth is, deep down, I don’t think any man ever wants to swop those heady days of coupledom for becoming a family unit.
Who can deny children introduce stress and strife into a relationship? And parenthood often turns a formerly loving couple into, at best, exhausted comrades in arms – at worst, adversaries.
In particular, it spells disaster for the one area of a marriage that many men believe to be the most important: your sex life. I’m convinced I can’t be the only man who has been driven to stray – or at least felt sorely tempted – as a result of having kids.
I’ve been married for 20 years and over the past five, I’ve had several affairs and numerous flings. And – be as disapproving as you like – I don’t regret it.
THINGS haven’t always been so bleak. I’d fallen for my wife after a couple of not- soserious relationships in my late teens and early 20s and we married after four years together.
We had lots in common, enjoyed spending time together and had a great sex life, making love every day.
Within a year of marriage, our eldest daughter arrived and, two years later, we were a family of four.
Raising two daughters changed me profoundly. I became much more patient and tolerant, knowing I had to put them and my wife first, which I did happily.
Yet it also changed my wife in ways I didn’t like. Suddenly the woman I desired, and who used to desire me, would barely touch me. If I tried to initiate sex she’d move away or say she was tired.
We differed on how to raise the children too. I believed they should slot into our lives, not the other way round. But she was more interested in motherand-toddler groups and swimming lessons than us or me.
Before, my wife used to make the effort to seduce me, doing her hair and makeup. But post-kids, she’d live day in, day out in baggy T-shirts and jogging bottoms.
When I suggested we go out on date nights, she complained I didn’t under
stand how tired she was.
I offered to pay for a babysitter, to take her on holiday and said she was welcome to cut down on her working hours in her management job if she was stressed. But nothing changed.
Soon it would only come up in arguments. If women find it difficult to talk about issues in their sex life, then men find it even harder.
She accused me of being selfish and only thinking about my needs.
I hoped things would improve as the children grew older. But instead it got worse, with her preferring to prioritise school parent- teacher association meetings and after-school clubs.
When I hit my mid-30s, it was as though a switch had been flicked.
I don’t expect a medal and I’m no saint, but I endured this for 15 years before I thought about straying. One night, after yet another bedroom knockback (I offered her a massage and she recoiled), I took stock.
By this point, every attempt to raise the matter ended in fights and retreating to separate bedrooms. Though I did use porn for a while, this felt empty and unfulfilling.
I didn’t want to cheat. Despite everything, I still loved and desired my wife and adored our family.
But there are only so many times you can hear a woman say how exhausted she is before recognising the problem isn’t with you.
So I decided to go along to work drinks, having previously declined the invitations. I started going out with my colleagues more often, a couple of times a month to clubs.
At first, I felt scared, cautious and, above all, guilty. But I loved the flirting, the courtship ritual of paying and receiving compliments. By the end of the evening I’d end up in a clinch with at least one of the women I’d danced with.
I tried to keep it to this. But within six months I was out at a club at least one night every weekend.
I kept a separate phone so I wouldn’t be caught. I also avoided going out locally, so there was no risk of walking with my family and having a woman I’d kissed approach me to say hello. My confidence came back. At home things changed too. I wasn’t so frustrated with my wife, nor was I as needy. I was more patient with her – a better husband, in fact. I was a better father too simply because my sexual needs were being met.
I’m sure my wife noticed I was paying myself a lot of extra attention and I suspect a part of her resented me for it. But she never brought it up.
Things really changed when I started a new job. Leaving my wedding ring in my pocket, I could reinvent myself as a single man without children. People only knew
I was married if they asked.
I was confident there was no way my wife could find out. She didn’t know my colleagues and hadn’t ever shown any interest in meeting them.
It might sound pathetic, but this woman was 10 years younger with an incredible body and she made it clear she was very interested in me.
Had there been even a glimmer of hope in the marital bedroom, I would have chucked my spare phone away and put my wedding ring back on. But my wife still showed zero interest in me. Unlike this woman.
I started wining and dining her. I told her I was married with children. I wanted her to go into things eyes wide open. We met every day after work for sex. I dreaded telling my wife I was staying at a “friend’s house”, but she accepted it.
We saw each other for three months and I ended things when she began to fall for me.
I always ensure affairs last less than a month – never long enough for them to truly fall for me, like she did.
I do struggle with guilt. But my wife is just as guilty as I am for letting things slide.
WE’VE had a few counselling sessions, but they’ve only proved how far apart we are. At one of the sessions, my wife asked why sex is so important to me. I wanted to ask her why breathing is important to her.
My mother-in-law heard us arguing about our sex life and sided with me. She was shocked that 16 years into our marriage and a year since I first started cheating, my wife preferred a separate bedroom.
Despite the cheating, I still believe marriage vows mean something, especially when children are involved.
There’s a part of me that still loves my wife and wants to play happy families. I don’t want a divorce.
Infidelity is my coping mechanism, if you like. I’m not arrogant, I’m just like millions of fathers who are stuck in sexless relationships and who’ve come to rely on short-term affairs to maintain some semblance of a sex life.
There are more of us out there than you think.
‘I DO STRUGGLE WITH GUILT. BUT MY WIFE IS JUST AS GUILTY AS I AM FOR LETTING THINGS SLIDE’
HE GREW up in a rural village in KwaZuluNatal, sleeping on the kitchen floor of a tworoomed mud house, along with his three siblings. There were no doctors in those parts at that time and he certainly had no idea what a neurosurgeon was. Now, Dr Zwelithini Mpungana is very much aware of what neurosurgery entails – he’s a highly specialised spinal neurosurgeon and his rise to the top of his profession is nothing short of inspirational. We’re chatting to Zwelithini via a videolink from the Life Beacon Bay Hospital in East London, where he’s recently settled. It’s a far cry from his childhood village.
“We were poor, but we never felt like it,” the 40-year-old says of those days. “We didn’t have lunch to take with us to school. The only shoes we had were our school shoes, which we took off once we got home and walked around barefoot. It was fine because the other kids were also barefoot. It was a happy childhood and I loved growing up there.”
He now loves living in the Eastern Cape. “It’s a slower pace of life and the city is calm, so it suits me,” he says. “I feel like I’m making a difference here.”
And making a difference he certainly is. His best moments come after a successful day in the operating theatre. “The perfect day for me ends with my patients smiling and saying, ‘Thank you, doctor’,” Zwelithini says.
“Neurosurgery is a tough field, physically and emotionally. But when you have a good outcome with the patient it helps you get through the days when you have poor outcomes.”
AS A child, Zwelithini thought he’d someday study veterinary science. He was good with his hands, he grew up around animals, and maths and science were his favourite subjects at school. Zwelithini, the eldest of four children, was born and raised in Entsikeni. Life was happy, but there were hardships too, he says.
His mother, Nomncedisi Mpungana, was blind and unable to work and his father, Thobikunya Madlala, was also unemployed. The family survived on his mom’s disability grant. When he was seven, Zweli went to live with his grandmother, Rose Mpungana, to take some pressure off his parents.
He was accepted to study veterinary science at the University of Pretoria, but couldn’t attend due to a lack of funds. So, for two years he worked at a phone shop and applied for bursaries.
“Then one day I saw an advert for scholarships to study medicine in Cuba,” Zwelithini recalls.
“I applied for it, but I didn’t hear back for months. I was heartbroken, but my gran said to me, ‘God wouldn’t have put this opportunity in front of you if it wasn’t going to work out’.”
A few months later he applied again and he was successful. In 2003 he moved to Cienfuegos in Cuba and started studying at the University of Cienfuegos. It was an uphill battle. He had to learn Spanish and acclimatise to a new culture. It was also the first time he’d been so far from home.
“When I went to Cuba it was before everyone had cellphones, so I felt very isolated from my family. I couldn’t call home to tell them how I was doing. But I knew that failure wasn’t an option. I couldn’t spend five years away from my family and come back with nothing to show for it. I constantly reminded myself that the isolation would end and I would
be back with my family again.”
After he settled in the new country, he made friends. But the first year was tough because all their lectures were in Spanish. “A few people from my group were sent home after that first year because they couldn’t grasp the language. I was very scared to fail so I worked hard,” he says.
Zwelithini made it to the end and when he returned to South Africa he studied at the University of KwaZuluNatal for two years before graduating with a degree in medicine.
His graduation was bittersweet because his granny died before he completed his studies. But his proud mom could share in his joy.
“To her, it was miraculous that I was a doctor,” he says. “She never studied past Grade 4. All the people in my village were very happy for me.”
ZWELITHINI fell in love with neurosurgery while doing his community service at Taylor Bequest Hospital in Matatiela. He had a comatose patient with a blood clot in his brain. After the attending surgeon operated on him, he recovered. “I thought, ‘This is awesome’,” Zwelithini says. “This guy was dying in my hands and now he’s talking and he’s going back to work.”
Before starting his neurosurgery training at the Universitas Academic Hospital in Bloemfontein in 2015, he worked at the Rietvlei Hospital, doing general surgery and orthopaedics. Last year he completed his master’s degree at the University of the Free State and was admitted as a fellow at the College of Neurosurgeons of South Africa.
As a black neurosurgeon, he’s faced difficult situations where his patients doubted his qualifications and didn’t want to be treated by him. But he doesn’t take it personally, he says. “It’s not a reflection of me or my abilities.”
Being a trailblazer for his community wasn’t easy, but he’s grown accustomed to it. “It was very difficult at first. Everyone was looking up to me and wanting me to do things for them. But I realised that it’s what I was supposed to do.”
Now he hopes to do more pro bono surgeries to help people who can’t afford private hospital fees.
He ensures he spends time with his family. He and wife Thandi have two children, Lukhanyo (7) and Ntloso (15 months). His other three children, Buhle (20), Konke (12) and Bulela (10), are from previous relationships.
“I love being a dad,” Zwelithini says. “The way kids see things is amazing. I’ve learnt a lot from them.”
And when he’s not with his wife or kids, Zwelithini enjoys reading books by Canadian academic Jordan Peterson and American bishop TD Jakes.
His faith plays a central role in his life. “I always say that it’s not my doing that brought me here. It’s God who led me to where I am now.”
Zwelithini wants to continue to hone his skills. “Once you stop learning, you stop growing. I would love to teach one day and to have my own neuro institute.”
He plans to study for an MBA next year and in future he’d like to become a motivational speaker.
His advice for people in who grew up similarly to him: “You can be anything in life. It doesn’t matter where you come from or that you grew up with nothing. If you work hard and believe in yourself, anything is possible. Read more, remember why you started and learn how to deal with the pressure of success.”
‘IT DOESN’T MATTER WHERE YOU COME FROM OR THAT YOU GREW UP WITH NOTHING’