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He was nice enough, but not a person I wanted to sleep with, let alone cheat on my husband with.He asked if he could see me again, I declined, attributing my reticence to my lack of clarity about the whole venture. And I still couldn’t get Texas Ranger out of my head.I'd read about the Ashley Madison website in a magazine article a year or two before, filing the data away for potential future use. Skeptical, I provided very little identifying information on my profile at registration. The personal details I did eventually include were guarded and vanilla. I looked for handsome faces, some semblance of professional success, and proper grammar/punctuation.Not long after, I looked online to see what the website purported to deliver. I wanted to hunt without being hunted, and was afraid I'd be found out. It wasn't quite like shopping for shoes at Nordstrom, where everything is beautifully displayed and screams "Buy me! " -- but the selection was certainly better than the Goodwill thrift shop down the road.It was part sociological experiment, part romantic venture and part a thrill-seeking foray into this very secret cheaters’ life. I complied, but then secretly embarked on a more prolonged affair with a local man I met online. My husband was hurt, horrified and needed time to reevaluate our relationship. In reflecting on my proclivity for infidelity, I can only describe it as a kind of sensation seeking -- the addictive quality of falling for someone new -- and a propensity for self-destruction -- reinforcing pathological defense mechanisms. Having had one extramarital relationship with a single woman he met on Ok Cupid, he turned to Ashley Madison in search of chemistry with an already-partnered woman.*** When I was a young girl, I told my dad that when I grew up I wanted to be a doctor or lawyer or pilot and have boyfriends all over the world. We lived apart for a few months, he threatened divorce, and we went to counseling. He told me that he didn't feel like he was getting what he needed from his marriage, wanting more in the way of emotional intimacy. But he drank three cocktails to my one (it was still daytime), and he and his wife had an interesting sort of arrangement (I felt he had less to lose than I did).When I finally did feel comfortable to post a (faraway and sunglassed) photo on my AM profile, I was bombarded with likes and winks and invitations to view private photo galleries. I finally chatted with someone I found interesting. We had excellent Internet chemistry, banter that gave me butterflies - only then did I start to entertain the reality of an in-person meeting. But I felt little bursts of dopamine activate my neurons during our online chats when I should have been working, playing a game with my son, or going to bed on time. Or, he entertained my idea of having an open marriage. I shared things that I seldom discuss with even my closest friends. We stayed up late chatting, and he often made me laugh out loud.
We drank whiskey and discussed the confines of monogamy. I talked passionately about my work, and pressed him for details about his confidential military job.
He was on AM because he wanted to meet women who weren't looking for serious commitment. The physical attention actually made me uncomfortable, but ultimately I conceded that this was all part of the adventure.
He physically came on strong -- caressing my thighs, kissing my neck, trying to unbutton my dress. After we fooled around, I insisted on knowing more about him, about his failed marriage, about the women he'd met on Ashley Madison, about his job in medical sales.
He asked smart questions, and actually listened to the answers. He described himself as someone who desired to meet and expand, to discover and know.
He wasn’t married, opposed to the institution, in fact, but was with a “fantastic partner,” whom he had “no business straying from.” This alone connected us.