Dear Ariella,
I started an email to The Wife last night with the intention to try to persuade her to ask you to remove my page. I had read on a forum somewhere that you took another woman’s page down after The Wife asked you to, and – as both I and my situation have grown increasingly desperate – I felt like I had no other option than to throw myself at her mercy and beg for my punishment to finally end.
I realized fairly quickly – when I had to start the email with an(other) apology for writing to her, for invading her life (again), after swearing to her and myself that I would never contact her again – that I don’t want to email her. As much as I want this page to come down – and, believe me, I want that BAD – I am simply not okay with disrupting her life again, especially not for (again) an almost wholly selfish reason.
So, instead, I am writing to you, one of many emails I have written to you and never sent over the last year and a half. I keep thinking that if I find the right words, the right way to explain why I did what I did, that I could make you understand me, that I could make you see that I’m not the terrible person portrayed on your site.
But that’s never going to happen, is it? Because to understand me, you’d have to want to understand; otherwise, it’s just words on a page written by one of the whores hate-plastered and slut-shamed daily on your site. And I don’t think that you want to understand me, Ariella. You don’t want to know me. Because if you knew me as a person – as a whole, live, real person instead of as just a tiny fractured piece of someone else’s story – it’d be much harder to hate me. Anonymous pictures are easy to hate; real people with real hearts and real feelings are much harder to dismiss. And so I imagine that you don’t want to know me, that you want me to remain a lifeless object; I imagine that it’s much easier to do what you do when you don’t know who you are doing it to.
I wish that you knew me, Ariella. I honestly don’t think that you’d hate me as much if you did. I wish that you knew how sorry I am for the pain and destruction that I caused that family. I wish that you knew me before the affair and I wish that you knew me after, and I wish you could see how that experience – those destructive and painful choices that I made – have changed me, have forced me to grow. I wish that you knew how grateful I sometimes feel, for all of it, from the first flirtation to the last comment on your site, for humbling me and forcing me to learn in ways that I may not have otherwise. I wish that you knew me so that you could see that you and I are the same, that we are all just exactly the same, that I want to feel loved and accepted just like you, that I fear pain and heartache and rejection, just like you, that I struggle and make mistakes and get overwhelmed by life, just like you. I wish that you knew how hard I have worked over the past two years to understand myself, to learn from my mistakes. I wish that you knew me, Ariella, as a real person, not as the anonymous, entertaining, salacious fodder that makes you money.
I also wish that you knew my mother. My mother is so special, Ariella, an amazing woman. I wish that you knew how fiercely she loves her children, how much she sacrificed so that they could have whatever life they choose. I wish you knew how hard she works to accept and love me and my brother, even when we make choices that are difficult to understand, let alone condone. I wish you knew how much she worries – how she has always, always worried – about her children’s well-being and happiness. I wish you knew how hard she tried to keep me from making the mistakes that I did, how desperately she tried to protect me from my older supervisor, how incensed she was when she found out, how hard we have worked to repair our relationship since. I wish that you knew how much your site continues to devastate her, how much it absolutely breaks my heart to see her continuing to suffer because of what I did.
The reality, Ariella, is that if this was just about me, I would probably have too much pride to write you and I’d certainly never even consider writing to The Wife. Now, please don’t misunderstand; I absolutely loathe your site’s existence and detest that it has cost me (at least) two really good jobs. I hate that I have to worry about my aging grandfather (or, any of my relatives, or future in-laws, or anyone ever) Googling my name, finding your site, and literally dropping dead. I abhor that I am very seriously considering legally changing my name – something I never planned to do, even when I get married, because I love being a MyLastNameHere – solely because of your site. Your site serves as a never-ending punishment and has made ‘me’ into an object of scorn, insult, and hatred by anonymous, angry strangers on the Internet.
But I can – and do – live with all of that. It doesn’t even bother me all THAT much anymore, save for when my job offer gets rescinded or I have a wave of panic about my grandfather finding the site.
But, my mom, Ariella, is not like me. Despite my pleading throughout my life for her to learn and practice The Serenity Prayer, she has never relented in her anxiety about things that she has no control over. She sees this site as something that is hurting her baby, and it *tortures* her that she is powerless to stop it. Earlier today, she went so far as to offer to pay for one of those ridiculously expensive online-reputation-saver people, and when I heard the desperation in her voice, I sat down and cried my eyes out. I hate, hate, HATE what your site is doing to my mother. I hate that she lives in worry and fear, and that she does so because of my bad decisions. Ariella, I am deeply remorseful for hurting The Wife and her family – I work fairly often (with my therapist) on how to best make amends, forgive myself, and grow from this experience. But, the part that brings me the most sorrow? Is how much this has hurt my mom. She doesn’t deserve this, Ariella, any more than The Wife deserved what I did to her. They are both innocent victims in the wake of a selfish self-destruction. My mother is 64 and ill, and I so much want for her to have peace.
I ended the affair over two years ago, and I have since genuinely apologized to The Wife (and then completely let her be). I have spent countless hours in therapy and with myself, sorting out the mess I made, the person that I had become, and figuring out how to be the person that I want to be. I have suffered, I have repented, I have felt deep pain and deeper remorse for the pain that I caused another person. I am genuinely at a loss as to how else I can make amends, as to what else I could do to make this right, as to how I can lessen anyone’s suffering.
I wish that you knew me, Ariella, because you are one of the only people who can help me figure out what to do to ease any suffering The Wife still has, and you are the ONLY person who can help me to help my mom. I don’t know what to do, Ariella. Please, tell me what I can do to make this stop. I really don’t know, I have no idea. I so badly want to give my mother peace. Please. Help me.
I’ve read your story, of course; or, at least, the bits and pieces that I could find online. I read that your boyfriend/fiancé/husband/I-can’t-remember-which cheated on you, repeatedly, and I think that I read that The Other Woman even mocked you or taunted you in some way. When I first read it, I was angry and my initial thought was, ‘Figures. She’s bitter and angry and now she’s unleashing her rage on all these women that symbolize the woman who hurt her.’ I pictured you as this hard shell of a person, whose life was entirely consumed by anger and pettiness. I wanted to hurt you back, I wanted revenge, I wanted YOU to see the error of YOUR ways, to see how this site is hurting Sisterhood far more than any one Homewrecker ever did.
I didn’t, obviously. I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to keep lashing out. Ariella, I am so sorry that that happened to you. I am so sorry that your man and that woman were so incredibly selfish and unkind and callous with your feelings. I can only imagine how devastating it would be to have your heart broken and your trust shattered like that, to have your sense of self and fairness shaken. My heart aches every time I think about how The Wife must’ve felt, the raw shock and hurt that she must’ve experienced. I am so sorry that my actions resulted in someone – anyone – feeling such deep, soul-crushing pain.
I don’t believe that you are just an angry and bitter woman, consumed by her own quest for vengeance. I don’t actually believe that anyone is all one thing, or that any of us is defined by one experience or by our worst moments. I think if you knew me, you would see that we are not all that different. We both want love and acceptance, we both fear rejection and pain, we both make mistakes and we struggle and we get overwhelmed by life sometimes. I believe that you would see that we are both doing our very best to make it through this beautiful and difficult life, even when our best isn’t that great. I believe that you would see that we both – that all people, really – are deserving of grace.
I want to forgive you, Ariella. I know, I know, it’s probably shocking and offensive that I’d even deign to suggest that to you. People don’t like to be offered forgiveness when they haven’t even apologized, especially not when they don’t think that they’ve done anything wrong. Everyone thinks that forgiveness is just the even exchange they receive for an apology, that it’s something we need to earn, that it’s for the offender, so that they can assuage whatever guilt they may have and move on.
But, forgiveness isn’t for the offender at all; it’s for the person who was offended, for them to release their anger and their grudge. Which is why I still need to say it: I forgive you, Ariella. I forgive you for using your site to hurt me and other women like me, for creating (yet another) space on the Internet/in the world where women rip each other apart (instead of building each other up), for focusing your own pain on so many anonymous, meaningless faces. I forgive you for deciding that I am – that all of us – are Less Than, that we are damaged beyond repair and unworthy of forgiveness. I forgive you for making yourself the Judge, for believing that you have the right to decide what we deserve. I forgive you for never taking the time to know the person behind the (stolen) pictures, for deciding that I am not worth knowing, for making a snap decision about my entire worth as a person based on such precious little information. Most of all, Ariella, I forgive you for hurting my mother, for continuing to hurt her, for not even caring that she hurts because she’s the mother of an Other Woman.
I guess that’s what I really needed to say, Ariella. I need to forgive you. It’s the only way I know to pull myself out of the anger and misery that I’ve felt this week, and over the last year and a half. And good god, Ariella, I don’t want to be angry anymore. It’s exhausting, you know, and it’s crushing my soul.
Have you ever heard of Momastery? Her site is essentially the opposite of yours, a place where woman go to support and love each other. She’s a brilliant writer and kind of an amazing person. Anyway, I thought of this post last night while I was writing this email: http://momastery.com/blog/2013/06/24/i-love-gay-people-and-i-love-christians-i-choose-all/
I don’t know what your stances on homosexuality are, but the post is essentially about learning to loveeveryone , not just the people who agree with you.
This post made me think that maybe, just maybe, you and I could one day understand each other. Maybe not agree, maybe not even like each other much, but at least understand. And if you ever want to give us that opportunity, please just let me know.
I wish you the best, Ariella. I sincerely hope that you find peace.
Regards,
A Homewrecker
Dear “A Homewrecker”,
To be honest, I had to read this twice, due to the fact that I had mixed emotions about this letter. Part of me genuinely felt sorry for you, but after reading your exposure, there is a part of me who believes you’re a little delusional. Let me explain.
In life we all makes mistakes. . .mistakes are such a huge part of our life and growth. Can you truly consider your affair with a married man a “mistake”? You were not one of the women who met a man who swept them off their feet, only to find out that man is married. No, that is not you. You knew this man, his wife and his children. You’ve been in their home. You say you apologized and felt horrible? Is that after you taunted the wife? Told her (paraphrased) “You can’t touch me bitch” and “how you hope she never forgets the bitch that was better to her husband”. Did you feel a tremendous amount of guilt before or after the affair came out, or perhaps you truly felt remorse once you were posted on a public website for the world to see?
When a person cheats on their partner, they are always sorry after the fact -once the truth comes out then they’re sorry. I have to wonder if you were sorry when you were knowingly sleeping with a married man all the while knowing his wife and his children! Why weren’t you guilty then? Why didn’t the guilt and grief consume you at that moment? What gave you the audacity to speak to his wife the way you spoke to her? You wished for me to get to know you, so these are the questions I would like answers to. I would like to know how you could purposely set out to destroy another woman? I bet you’re thinking “if it wasn’t me, it would be someone else.” Why is this the mindset of so many women? Does it help when you’re trying to justify your actions? Not just you, many women have that mindset. And yes, her husband was just as guilty. . .in my opinion, more so than you.
“I wish that you knew me so that you could see that you and I are the same, that we are all just exactly the same, that I want to feel loved and accepted just like you, that I fear pain and heartache and rejection, just like you, that I struggle and make mistakes and get overwhelmed by life, just like you.” As far as you and me being “the same” I don’t believe this to be true. I would NEVER engage with another woman’s husband/partner. I would never allow myself to be the other woman. I, unlike you, have more respect for women. You state that this website tears women down instead of building women up. You’re not the only one, many share the same opinion pertaining to this site. I do not believe this to be true. Women tear each other down. If anything, this website proves it. Why not just find a single man? It sounds so easy doesn’t it? Because it is just that. . .EASY. But yet, so many women engage with someone else’s husband. . .I will never understand why.
I will give you credit. . .every other paragraph of this letter was powerful. However, I am not the one who needs your forgiveness. I did not ask for it, nor did I have any part in your choices. I am not god, the judge, the jury, nor am I the wife you betrayed. . .the wife that let you into her home. I think this is the part that you have misconstrued. You need her forgiveness.
And while I do feel very sorry for your mother, do you want to know who I really feel sorry for? The children who have to live with the selfish and destructive choices of 2 grown adults. The children of divorce, the children whose parents have affairs. That is where my sympathies lie. . .not with you -with them.
Instead of emailing me, you should be emailing her. Perhaps the wife will be a little bit more receptive to your email. She is the one who deserves to hear your apologies. Just a word of advice, I would leave out the part about “all of us being the same”. . . Just my opinion.
Ariella
p.s. I also have to wonder if this letter was truly genuine or was it just fictional words written by a very gifted writer.
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