Real life: ‘I sent the message for my lover to my husband’

Sharon made the mistake of her life in a message and that's how everything came out. “Bas and I were doing okay together. Okay, but nothing more. To be very honest, we lived in harmony but next to each other. As housemates. Of course, we ran the family together and were a well-liked family (at least, I think) at parties and gatherings, but to say that it sparkled between us, nah. Bas was (and still is) my best friend.

I can't really remember us ever having steamy sex. Nice sex, yes. And also a bit of the so-it-should-be sex, but primal and fierce and wild, that has never been the case as far as I remember.

The first years with the kids I was busy. I sometimes call it the swamp. Nights with a maximum of five hours of sleep (and never in one go), the care, never knowing how long you can enjoy your coffee, the laundry, those diapers, the stress (do I have milk with me), and then a job: I was just surviving. There was no time for distraction at all. But when they both started school, I suddenly began to find myself again. I started exercising and even went out occasionally. Those few clingy pounds from the delivery had suddenly melted away and when I looked in the mirror, I thought: nice woman, instead of worn-out mother.

And yes, that's how I ended up in the club of clichés. I met a guy. Much younger than me. Single, in his late twenties. He found me interesting (me? That woman with the lunchboxes?) and sexy and experienced. I initially held back, of course, laughed at his compliments and jumped back on my bike with a seat in front and a seat in the back. That didn't scare him off.

The week after, I went back to the same café. Of course, he was there too and of course, we were both the last ones to be swept out of the place. Bas was so sweet. He was happy that I had a nice evening. With friends.

This happened almost every week. I slept even less but had energy for ten. The nice guy started DM'ing me on Instagram: a lot more anonymous and safer than messaging, because Bas and I never had secrets from each other so he could always read my messages.

The idea arose to go sailing with the café group for a day. Bas cheered it on: he would take care of the kids. And yes, then numbers were exchanged and the tension between us really became too high. When we both took a dive and were right under the tip of the ship, he kissed me. No one saw us. I thought I was going completely crazy.

I was disconnected, I couldn't help it. I wondered if it had to do with reproductive drive. That you are almost biologically pushed towards another man so that you also start reproducing with him when you already have offspring with one man. As a protection of the species.

Without going into too much detail: those café evenings continued, but moved to his apartment. He brought delicious snacks, there was wine and we dove into his bed as quickly as we could. Did I feel guilty towards Bas? Of course. But I justified it by thinking that it wasn't against Bas but for myself. It existed alongside each other.

During a summer vacation, Bas and I were both chilling. I in the hammock he had hung up behind the tent, he in front of the tent on an air mattress chair. I messaged my lover. That I missed him, that I wanted him to kiss me softly behind my ear, that I would feel my breasts swell under his hands and that we would then…

I pressed ‘send’ and then it seemed as if all the oxygen in the world was suddenly gone. I pressed my head into the hammock, closed my eyes and listened to the ringing in my ears. The quiet footsteps of Bas approaching my hammock made me open my eyes just a little bit. He had his phone in his hand. ‘This message.’ He spoke softly and in control. ‘I assume this wasn't meant for me.’

And then, everything collapsed.

In this unusual time, we asked people for their honest story. To avoid hurting others, the names of Sharon and Bas have been changed.