It’s that time of year again. The moment when the world rejoices, families come together – and loved ones spend that little bit of special time alone.
What woman doesn’t enjoy the seasonal gifts and pleasant encounters, the touching gestures and all those social invitations that really strengthen a relationship.
Unless you’re the other woman. The one who shouldn’t be there at all.
For these poor creatures, this is the loneliest time of the year – a celebration of heartache, painful memories and rejection.
I learned this the hard way, when I spent the most desperate Christmas of my life as the second partner, pushed into the shadows when it really mattered.
I know there are plenty of married women who will hate me for making all this public. And I guess I only have myself to blame, even though I’d never in my life dreamed of becoming someone’s dirty little secret.
I first became the Other Woman 13 years ago, when I met my then-boyfriend at a party in Manhattan. I was 29 and he was older and more experienced at 45.
Long story short: I had no idea he was married. There was no bell, no obvious sign – and he certainly didn’t tell me that.
I first became the Other Woman 13 years ago, when I met my then-boyfriend at a party in Manhattan. I was 29 and he was older and more experienced at 45. (Photo: Izzy Anaya)
I learned this the hard way, when I spent the most desperate Christmas of my life as the second partner, pushed into the shadows when it really mattered. (Photo: Izzy Anaya)
We were in a relationship for six months, I fell in love, but only then did I stumble upon the truth.
I wish I had ended it right away, but after my initial anger subsided—and we had a heated fight—I accepted his apology.
I believed him when he said his wife was a terrible person. I believed him again when he claimed they were divorced. And I kept seeing him.
I don’t mind saying I was passionate about the man. And when Christmas came, I especially hoped that he would invite me to spend time with him and his children, or at least make time to come visit me.
Then the apologies started. I was told it was “too soon,” that his kids weren’t ready yet, that he still had to co-parent with his wife. He claimed it would be “inappropriate” for me to be anywhere near them.
Once again I naively trusted. I went to parties alone and explained over and over that my boyfriend “needed to be with the kids.” It’s a good excuse, by the way. Women believe it.
Banished to my parents’ house for Christmas, lunch was delicious and there were presents under the tree. I should have been happy, but it wasn’t because the boyfriend I loved was missing.
I barely spoke to him that whole week and when I would get a conversation on the phone he would whisper that he was busy with ‘family time’ and we would talk later. Then he ‘forgot’ to call.
When Christmas came, my main hope was that he would invite me to spend time with him and his children, or at least make time to come visit me. Then the apologies started. (Photo: Izzy Anaya)
So there were no romantic meetings, not even secret ones. There were no stolen moments in tasteful hotels, no candlelit dinners or country walks.
I tried to forget the pain. I told myself that my boyfriend’s act of disappearing was just “part of fatherhood” and that one day he would actually introduce me to the kids.
We would all spend the holidays together.
Of course he knew I was unhappy and tried to make up for it with a stream of flowers and presents. He sent me jewelry – lots of jewelry – including a beautiful black diamond ring.
When he finally escaped from his family, he took me out for lavish dinners and paid for everything.
But none of that makes up for being separated from the person you love. Knowing that he had chosen to be with her – and not me – only made it worse.
The truth is, the other woman never comes first. Yes, you are getting a big gift, probably a bigger and more wonderful gift than the one he gave to his wife.
But it’s just a consolation prize – without the consolation. You’ll never get the person. A cold gift is no substitute for human warmth.
It wasn’t just Christmas that was difficult: I had already experienced Thanksgiving, which had been especially difficult because it fell on my birthday that year. He didn’t even bother to show up at my party.
When I complained, trying to sound endearing instead of angry, he promised to make it right. And true to his word, he took me to the Caribbean island of Aruba the following week.
Of course he knew I was unhappy and tried to make up for it with a stream of flowers and presents. He sent me jewelry – lots of jewelry – including a beautiful black diamond ring.
Mistresses at Christmas (like the infamous Mia from Love Actually, pictured) have long been maligned, but for these poor creatures this is the loneliest time of the year – a celebration of heartache, painful memories and rejection.
I would have traded that a hundred times over to have the man I love hold my hand as I blew out my birthday candles.
Was there some truth in his web of deceit? Maybe that’s what made him so convincing. His marriage went through a bad period. But it took me two long years to realize that he wasn’t divorced from his wife in any meaningful way at all. And that he would never end it.
I guess the truth should be obvious to everyone: that you think you are in a relationship, but in reality you are alone. That he actually doesn’t want to be with you at all and can’t tolerate anyone else having you.
After all the worries, the stress, the fond hopes and the feverish self-deception, I was never more than his part.
So here is my Christmas gift to you, the one lesson that has stuck with me through the years: Married men will never leave their wives.
He is still with her now.