The closure I'll never get (Kind of a rant)

Not sure where to put this or even what I'm hoping to get out of it, so...
My father passed away less than two weeks ago from Alzheimer’s, though in reality, I lost him more than three years ago when the disease began taking his mind. I am sitting with a mix of sadness and anger—not just over the loss, but because he died without us ever having the chance to understand how his infidelity shaped, scarred, and echoed through my life. Now, that door is closed forever.
My story is in my bio, but the highlights are that I am literally the product of an affair. My father was married, and my mother was his affair partner. They eventually married after being discovered, but his cheating never stopped. They divorced—twice—and his relentless infidelity contributed to my mother’s eventual suicide.
Because infidelity was the atmosphere I breathed (MANY other members of my immediate or extended family were or had been in affairs), it warped my own early understanding of relationships. Decades ago, long before I met my wife, I was engaged to someone who cheated on me. My immediate, reflexive response was to "repay the favor" and cheat back, because in my twisted baseline, that was just what people did for "justice." We split acrimoniously, and while that experience eventually woke me up to just how toxic and destructive infidelity truly is—saving me from completely wrecking my life before I ultimately built a healthy, loyal marriage of over thirty years—it proved how easily generational poison takes root.
Outside of his marriage, my father was an attentive, dutiful dad to me. But he was also completely unrepentant about his affairs and profoundly conflict-avoidant. Because he ran from hard truths, a permanent, unspoken wall grew between us on this and related topics. By the time I finally started unpacking this trauma in individual counseling—realizing how his dismissive attitude toward loyalty, respect, and integrity had maybe compromised my own foundation—his mind was already deteriorating from Alzheimer’s. He couldn't process it, and I couldn't confront a man whose brain was slipping away. Tragic timing. The chance for genuine accountability, understanding, or closure died long before his heart stopped beating.
I’m sharing this because I see so many wayward parents dreading the day their children might find out, or hoping to sweep the past under the rug to "protect" everyone. If you are a WS, please understand that your kids absorb the atmosphere of your choices whether they know the explicit details or not.
When your children reach an age-appropriate stage—especially as young adults trying to build their own definitions of love and trust—do not hide behind conflict avoidance, shame, or fear of negative emotions. Meet them where they are and lean straight into the discomfort. Let them be angry, confused, or hurt without getting defensive or retreating into silence to soothe your own guilt. When kids discover the reality of an affair, their childhood lens shatters, and they are forced to reconcile the parent who loved them with the person who blew up their foundation. Acknowledge that disorientation and validate their pain instead of asking them to pretend everything is fine.
Do not wait until time runs out. You might think avoiding the conversation protects the peace, but retreating is precisely what turns that silence into a permanent brick wall. Facing your children’s pain is agonizing, but leaning into that truth is the only way to tear that wall down. Give them the honesty, the vulnerability, and the closure my father could never give me.

8 comments posted: Thursday, September 10th, 2026

So...Martha Stewart? Really?

If you haven't seen the Martha Stewart documentary on Netflix, allow me to spoil it a bit. She admitted to cheating on her husband at least twice, one time while on their honeymoon. He also had affairs, which reportedly included bringing the women into their home.
I was struck by just how brazenly unrepentant she was. And to dredge all that ugliness up again decades after the divorce seemed especially petty since they've both moved on (I suspect...but perhaps I'm projecting).
It had two effects on me:
1. Actually almost wishing that my experience with infidelity involved someone so initially callous and indifferent. It would have been a no-fail excuse in ending that relationship instead of what happened. My XWF actually seemed initially regretful about what she'd done when it first happened. I did agree to try again, but went behind her back and had a very brief RA just to feel that we were even. Stupid doesn't even cover it. She then nuked me. In hindsight, a lot of her rancor was obviously revenge-for-my-revenge. BTW, RAs are a really bad idea. I genuinely wish she'd just been awful right away and I could have moved on with some dignity instead of having so many of my personal relationships ruined.
2. I now really dislike anything in our home that is linked in any way to Martha Stewart. Luckily there's not much, but there are a few things. Before, I was ambivalent to them, now they're almost triggering.
Prior to seeing this, MS occupied less than a fraction of a percent of my consciousness over the past 20 years. I really am surprised that something so outside of my conscious thoughts could affect me so personally.

15 comments posted: Thursday, November 14th, 2024