CONTENT WARNING: This article contains explicit sexual references.

A married midlife reader says she never thought she would be unfaithful. But a chance meeting at a university reunion changed everything.

I had a beautiful traditional wedding in my parents’ village church, with flowers festooning the picturesque church gate, my cute three-year-old niece dressed in a pink floral dress as my bridesmaid, a fabulous bouquet made of lilies, and a simple but beautiful wedding dress. It was made of ivory silk and had spaghetti straps and tiny buttons all the way down the back.

My husband, Graham*, meanwhile, who I’d met a couple of years before when out with friends in a north London pub, looked movie-star handsome in his navy-blue tailcoat. I earnestly said my marriage vows and meant them with every fibre of my being – and both of us spent the day beaming at each other and our 100 or so guests.

Looking at the photos now, some 28 years on, it’s those smiles that still catch the eye and, over the years, we’ve certainly enjoyed some happy times. Although Graham’s landscape business didn’t take off in the way we’d hoped, and I ended up as the main breadwinner as a lawyer, we felt lucky to have a son and twin daughters a couple of years apart and have lived a comfortable life in the Surrey suburbs – Graham picking up much of the burden of childcare as I commuted into London.

But more than a quarter century of commuting, juggling and parenting have undeniably taken their toll. The fun, laughter and enjoyable sex of the first few years of our relationship have become a distant memory and, with our kids now in their 20s and leading their own lives – away studying and working – it’s felt increasingly apparent to me that something is missing and our marriage is running out of steam. Indeed, it’s been slowly decelerating to a standstill. There’s no spark. There are no surprises. Our life together is beige and we do the same dull things on repeat.

I cook or Graham cooks and we talk about our working day or whether either of us has heard from the kids. At weekends, we both visit our elderly parents. Once in a blue moon, we might go to the cinema or to a restaurant or sometimes to a 60th birthday party, as many of our friends are a couple of years ahead of us and heading into the next decade. Holidays, meanwhile, happen occasionally, but Graham seems just as happy to stay at home and watch TV. He loves watching sport on the small screen above anything else, it seems. As for sex, that happens about once a month and is over and done in no more than 15 minutes. I’ll feel a hand on my thigh, a kiss on my neck and then we both do the same things to each other and end up in a spoon position. It’s not awful but it’s utterly predictable and oh-so tame.

While I’ve been increasingly grappling with these feelings of, I admit it, crushing boredom and wondering what to do, a few months ago I was invited to a university reunion. It was 40 years since my gang had started uni, and one of them decided it would be fun to bring everyone back together, so hosted drinks in his garden. I hadn’t seen some of those attending for decades and confess I took quite a lot of care over my appearance, wanting to look good and to feel young again.

It was a brilliant night full of reminiscing and laughter. The wine flowed and the decades melted away as connections were reforged. I found myself, in particular, chatting at length to Robin*, someone I’d occasionally sat next to in lectures, though we hadn’t been particularly close way back when. But all these decades on, he was charming and chatty and, though it sounds awfully shallow, he had two things that instantly appealed: a lovely thick head of dark hair and eyes that twinkled as I talked to him. He seemed to find me interesting and hang on my every word.

At the end of the night, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to exchange phone numbers and equally natural to text each other the next day to arrange to meet for dinner. That we did and, again, enjoyed each other’s company. So, then we booked another evening out and, by the end of that second dinner, Robin asked me if I would like to go away for a night with him. He’d explained that his marriage of 25 years was nearing its end, bereft of physical contact (sadly, partly because of their years trying and failing to have a family), and he would love to make more of “us”. I realise I should have felt horrified at the suggestion and guilty at even considering it but, in reality, I didn’t think twice about saying “yes”. I felt desirable for the first time in years – almost as if emerging from a deep sleep.

Getting away for the night was easy, as I sometimes attend remote meetings or conferences and, although I was nervous about going to bed with someone new for the first time in decades, it turned out to be fantastic. In fact, in truth we didn’t actually sleep at all, as we repeatedly had sex, in multiple positions, talking and laughing and cuddling between times. It felt as if we were teenagers – only better, as there were none of the awful confidence hang-ups that young people tend to feel.

Since that first time, we have started to meet as often as we can – sometimes overnight and sometimes just for an afternoon. Robin runs his own events business, so has the flexibility to arrange his diary around my availability to meet, and his success means he’s also able to fund nice hotels and lovely dinners, and he’ll often turn up with a small gift for me – everything from flowers and fragrance to a book he’s read and thinks I’ll enjoy. He is generous and kind, and the sex is always thrilling.

"Since that first time, we have started to meet as often as we can – sometimes overnight and sometimes just for an afternoon."

Indeed, for two people who will shortly be embarking on their seventh decades, it seems incredible that we can amuse ourselves in bed for hours at a time. It’s not an exaggeration to say that I have never had such wonderful sex in my life, as we constantly tell each other what feels good and share the intimate things we want to do. It may sound sordid to be discovering new positions and to be enjoying my own body and someone else’s at this time of my life, but it feels liberating – a world away from mundane everyday drudgery. Giving and receiving oral sex, for instance, was something I never expected to experience again and, honestly, it is bloody marvellous!

I know I should be wracked with guilt, and I absolutely do not want to hurt anyone – neither my husband nor my son and daughters. Before this new relationship started, I never thought I was someone who would have an affair or be unfaithful. But I am experiencing such joy and fulfilment from it that I really don’t want it to stop. I feel like my life has gone from beige to full technicolour, and that rather than being in a long, slow decline to old age with little to look forward to, I’ve got my old youthful spirit back. A classic midlife crisis? Perhaps. But it’s with someone my own age rather than a younger man. And with someone who I am rapidly falling in love with.

I think it’s because of that surge of endorphins and feeling so good that I’m able to lie about where I’m going on my nights away. It’s not that I get any pleasure at all from lying, and I don’t want my husband to discover what I am doing. But there is something inside me compelling me forward to continue with the affair. I can’t bear to give it up, because I love being with Robin – it’s exhilarating being with him physically and just spending time talking to him, too. But at the same time, I don’t want it to destroy my marriage; I didn’t take my vows lightly and I hate the idea of causing hurt.

At this moment, I’m struggling to see precisely what the future will hold. Ultimately, I do know that I have a decision to make, however. I understand that eventually I will have to choose. I know there’s a clock ticking and some time soon I need to act – be that to end the affair or end my marriage. There is no perfect conclusion to this. There are multiple possible scenarios, and the sad thing is that none of them will result in a happy ever after for everyone involved. Do I follow where my heart is leading, end my marriage as gently as I can and try for a new future with Robin? Do I force myself to think again about those marriage vows, stop the affair and put my energy into trying to rekindle something with my husband? Or do I just stick my head in the sand, ostrich-like, and carry on sneaking nights away and hoping not to get caught? Unfortunately, there is no perfect solution, and I recognise that I only have myself to blame.

*Names have been changed

How to know if your affair is the end of your marriage

Affairs can happen for so many reasons. “Sometimes they’re the end of the marriage or relationship, but in other cases they actually rekindle it,” says Lottie Passell-Syms, a psychosexual and relationship therapist. “They often shine a light on what’s missing in the marriage or within ourselves. People go out to find that unmet need elsewhere.”

Your affair partner is someone you can survive the daily pressures of life with – not just an illusion

Passell-Syms describes affairs as an “illusion”, because you’re in a bubble, “with no bills, no children, no responsibilities. You’re in bliss and having fun in secret, so it all feels very exciting and heightened.” But she warns that this state is often fuelled by limerence, that intoxicating early obsession where you idealise the other person. While you know what you’ve got at home, there’s no way to tell what the end result of the affair will be when limerence fades. “The real test is whether you could survive the daily pressures of real life with this person,” she says.

You would choose your affair partner over the ‘empire’ you’ve built

While Passell-Syms appreciates it’s difficult to embrace the unknown, she believes that existing in two separate worlds – your family and the affair – is even harder. “The decision is huge. Do you leave your marriage and the empire you’ve built with your family, which is a massive investment? On the other side, with your affair, there’s no investment yet and you don’t know how it’s going to turn out. It’s about weighing up what you might lose against what you might gain.”

You’re more emotionally intimate and transparent with your affair partner

Ultimately, an affair often signals that something is missing in what you individually need from your relationship or an unmet need in yourself. You’re seeking that unmet need in someone else. But while it may feel incredible in the bubble, you need to ask whether you really want to live with that person in the “real world” of jobs, bills and everyday stresses.

What if you don’t think your affair is the end of your marriage?

If not, could you take the brave step of being honest with your partner – sharing what’s been missing for you and exploring whether the relationship can be repaired and rebuilt?

“It’s worth remembering the ripple effect this may have on children, family and close friendships,” says Passell-Syms. “But if you choose to stay, the greatest sadness would be remaining silent and never truly addressing what’s happened.”

She encourages individual therapy for both you and your partner as a way to understand what’s been missing and begin the work of healing separately and together.