By Laurie L.
He turned to me as we approached the driveway of the cozy bed and breakfast just outside of Torrey, Utah, and said, “Oh, by the way, your name is Patty.”
“Huh?”
“When I was making the reservations the guy asked for my wife’s name, so I naturally said Patty.”
“Naturally.”
I had to remember to be Patty for the next three days.
Traveling with someone else’s husband has its challenges, some easier to handle than others. I‘ve learned never – ever – to pick up the phone in a hotel room. I’m careful when checking in for a flight together, having found that the chances of my name being on his baggage claim ticket are about 99 to 1.
I’ve also learned to avoid cozy bed and breakfasts, where the guests like to chat over breakfast and the owners feel a need to get to know you. They tend to like sending Christmas cards inviting “you and your lovely wife” back next year.
When I tell women friends about my relationship, they usually lean over, look me in the eye and ask sympathetically: “So, do you think he’ll ever leave his wife?” I look at them like they’re crazy, as if to say, ” Now, why would I want him to do that?”
Being a wife is not nearly as much fun.
These same friends also roll their eyes when I tell them that I believe he has a good, solid marriage. He has never tried the “my wife doesn’t understand me” bit, partly because, well, she does, and partly because this isn’t about her. We take the French approach – there are wives and there are mistresses and one need not cancel out the other.
Living together inevitably breeds minor (or major) annoyances, that a man and his mistress have no time to nurture. You never lose one of his socks in the dryer, because you don’t do his laundry. And just think, you never have to look for excuses not to spend Christmas with his mother. (Of course, on the down side, you can forget about ever spending his birthday, or New Year’s Eve with him, though there’s always your birthday.)
I haven’t told too many people about my relationship – more to protect him than me. I’m often reluctant to bring it up, thinking people will be shocked – or disgusted. But most often, I’m surprised to find complicity, confessions from the least-expected sources that they, too, have been – or are – involved with a married man.
A few weeks ago I asked a friend, a writing teacher, for some help. I’ve been working on my first novel (which, like most first novels, is based far too much on real life) and I was stuck. I didn’t know where to go with the story. She asked how I saw my real-life situation ending. Her question blew me away.
“I never thought of it,” I told her. It was true. I can imagine us going on like this til death do us part. I can imagine me getting married again, even him getting divorced and remarried, and still, us continuing the way we are.
The only reason I can see for ending things would be if his wife (who’s decidedly not French) found out and insisted we stop seeing each other. I have no doubt he’d choose her over me.
But I’m not complaining. The pleasures far outweigh the inconveniences. Especially when I remember what a friend said to me the other day, succinctly summing up her own experience with a long-distance lover.
“You know how it is,” she said with a knowing smile. “You have great sex and eat.”
Indeed.
After graduating college as a French major, Laurie L. moved to Paris “for six months” — and stayed for almost 27 years, before moving to Washington DC in 2004. During the day she works as a writer/editor in the field of international development, but her real passions are traveling and writing personal essays — with an occasional foray into fiction. She has studied with Natalie Goldberg and believes that Writing Practice — aside from being a lot of fun — is an essential part of the writing process.
Great piece, Laurie. I like that you’ve tackled a topic that touches many relationships, yet many find it difficult to talk about. I think your attitude is an unusual one for women – I know, for me, when I’ve been the odd one out in a triangle, I’ve found it difficult to not want more. It’s amazing the way you’ve come to terms with that part of the equation.
I’ve always wondered about the cultural differences between the French and Americans when it comes to affairs. I wondered if you could talk more about that from your perspective because I find it fascinating:
1) I have the idea that Americans have just as many affairs as the French, yet tend to keep them secret. What’s your take on that?
2) I’ve also always wondered if French women have their “Other” person the way the men have their Mistresses. Is it okay for women in French culture to do the same?
3) Finally, you lived in France for 27 years. Did you see any changes in that culture over time around the way they handled affairs? What about when you came back to live in the U.S. What had changed since you’d last lived here?
Can’t wait to hear your thoughts.
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I’m fascinated by the cultural differences, too. Seems like in the U.S. people have much greater expectations of one another. You hear a lot about men (and women) leaving their marriages in favor for the other woman (or man). This notion of settling for the role of mistress is less obvious.
Also, when I just typed the above paragraph, I realized we don’t have a term for the “other man,” except a “kept man” or a gigolo. If the roles were changed, and this were written from the perspective of a man having an affair with a married woman, would he be as inclined or less so to be happy with what he has? I say he’d be as inclined.
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Good point, ybonesy. There is no equivalent word in French or English (and this is probably true for other languages, too) for a male “mistress.” Both languages use “lover”, which is a more equalizing kind of word. The point about gigolo or kept man (or woman) is that the implication is that there is some deception and different expectations. I’m talking about a real relationship between two equals — call it a friendship with sex, if you like.
As for quoinmonkey, good questions.
Yes, I believe that “it” goes on all the time — here, there, and everywhere. But everyone seems to prefer to pretend that “it ain’t so.” The French have a history of being more open (honest?) about it and yes, it works for men and women. (Who do you think these guys are sleeping with? Not all 18-year old bimbos!). The whole game of seduction is an art.
Do you all remember what happened at President Mitterrand’s funeral in 1996? Everyone knew that he had an illegitimate daughter, and that he had a real relationship with her. Mme. Mitterrand (whose name has been linked with various political figures over the years) had the grace to invite the mistress and the daughter to stand with her and her sons at the front of the cortege. It’s the difference between accepting reality and denying it.
You can just imagine the French press during the Clinton impeachment. They didn’t understand the question, really they didn’t. And if it really was about lying and not about sex, then imagine what they’re wondering now…
Your third question is a little more difficult for me because, among other things, I was 27 years older by the time I came back, so there were a lot of variables that changed there! I’ll have to think about it some more.
Thanks for your comments
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Your answers make me chuckle. Yes, imagine what the French press is thinking now.
I do remember the Mitterrand funeral. I remember thinking, “How enlightened.” It was kind of refreshing.
Yes, 27 years is a long time. And, at least for me, different things are important to me now. I don’t look at the world the same way I did back then, no matter where I live.
It was good to read your Washington Post articles again. Good to have the 2 links in your piece. Made me want to haul out the motorcycles this afternoon. It was 75 here today. I don’t imagine it would compare to biking around Paris. But we do have the wide open spaces here!
Great to have you on red Ravine.
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You paint such an honest picture that it is hard not to believe that your situation is not rare. In a humdrum world, I believe that there has to be more excitement than anyone with any self respect can get from American Idol.
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Not rare at all. Although when I had mine I couldn’t stop from falling in love.
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Jeanne, is that a bad thing?
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What surprises me is how many men have had not just mistresses but out and out second, or third, families. Look at Lindbergh. Look at Louis Kahn.
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Don’t forget British financier Sir James Goldsmith (father of Jemima Khan) who had one family in France and one in England, neither of them a secret to the other. He has been quoted as saying “Never marry the mistress, it creates a job vacancy.” (Or maybe it was one of his wive or mistresses who said it.
Meanwhile, this morning’s Washington Post has a review of a new nonfiction book: Lust in Transation, The Rules of Infidelity from Tokyo to Tennessee.
And wordraw, my answer to your question: love is not a bad a thing, nor is falling in love. Of course not. What’s “bad” is when one person — in any relationship — wants more (or at the very least something different) than the other.
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ah, i get it. Maybe this is why some of us are perennially single.
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