First, some context; this is the scene that birthed my passion to tell you the truth about infidelity:
I was tired, bone weary from the inside out, more exhausted than I had ever been. With a groan, I lowered myself to the end of the king-sized bed where I sat cradling my face in my hands. Although I was emotionally drained, I couldn't shut my mind off. The day's events kept replaying over and over - Julie's tears, my remorse, Drs. John and Julie Gottman's wise counsel, and my shame. Always my shame! Inwardly I berated myself. What kind of man cheats on his wife? What kind of father inflicts the pain of divorce on his children? What kind of man...?

Sensing my deep despair, Julie came toward me and held me, while I mumbled yet another tearful apology. When my sobs finally subsided she took my hand and drew me towards the window overlooking Nantucket Bay. "I love you, Jay," she said softly, turning her head so she could see my face as she spoke. Involuntarily I looked away, unable to meet her eyes.

The TV was playing faintly in the background, and after a few minutes it intruded upon our consciousness, calling us back into the room. New York Governor, Elliot Spitzer, was just stepping to the podium as we sat down in front of the TV and listened as he announced his resignation. After acknowledging his assignations with a high dollar escort, he expressed regret for his poor judgment, and apologized to his family and constituents. It was scripted and predictable leaving many questions and saying nothing to help people understand.

Listening to his confession was like picking a scab and I experienced my own shame all over again so I shut it off in an act of empty defiance. I tried to focus on something else but I couldn't. Try as I might I couldn't get the picture of Tilda Spitzer out of my mind. When he made his announcement, she had been standing to one side, a little behind him, her face clearly visible and it was full of pain. It was a look I knew well. I had seen the same look in Julie's eyes - a combination of disbelief and betrayal.
Getting to my feet I began to pace the room, agitation overcoming my exhaustion. I couldn't help thinking that infidelity was pandemic and the fallout was toxic.

"Someone has got to tell the truth about infidelity," I muttered under my breath, as my agitated pacing took me from one end of the room to the other. Thinking out loud I continued, "It has to be someone who can speak from experience, someone who will tell the absolute truth no matter the consequences."

Turning on my heel, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror and froze. Staring at the man who looked back at me, I had an epiphany. In that moment I realized that if someone was going to tell the truth about adultery it would have to be me. My life experiences, as well as my training, had uniquely prepared me.

"Damn it!" I exclaimed as my new reality settled in. I am that man.

While I never aspired in grad school to be the poster child for infidelity, life never turns out as it should but as it does. If it helps one couple or spares a single child the agony of an unnecessary divorce it's worth it. I chose to have an affair that was devastating to my wife and family, resulted in a divorce, landed me in a jail cell, damaged many important relationships and almost cost me my life. That's the bad part. I also chose to grow up, take responsibility for the brokenness that propelled me to the choices I made, and learn how to love my wife Julie as she deserved to be. I also chose to earn the right to love her again, in a new marriage today built upon "true love" (See "Second Chances" at www.drjayandjulie.com to learn more).

As I suspect is true with many affairs, the anatomy of mine was found in those parts of me that I had for many years denied, refused to take responsibility for, or run from being honest about. In lying to myself and others about those parts, I severed them from my life. Once dissociated, they remained unknown to me, leaving me in a dangerous and intolerable state in a world replete with opportunity for escape and threats to deep intimacy.

Ironically, my ignorance about my own brokenness rendered any smarts I acquired in getting a PhD in clinical psychology useless. What is invisible to us often controls us. My broken condition allowed me to fail in taking responsibility for those severed parts-something that true love requires of us all.

If, in reading our story, you've asked yourself, "How could he do this?" Here I will attempt to offer you an answer. I do so, not as an excuse to justify my actions, but rather to provide insight into how someone who took his marriage vows seriously and intended to live by his values could fail everyone he loved so profoundly (For a preview of our tell all story told in both my voice and Julie's, go to www.surprisedbylove.com).

Following are the six reasons I chose to have an affair and what I did in the aftermath to grow as a man and husband:

1. I believed that the rules didn't apply to me.
2. I confused significance and self-worth with certainty and success.
3. I made up a story that my wife was the cause of my unhappiness and disappointment in our marriage.
4. I was an accomplished liar.
5. I confused sexual attraction and fantasy for love.
6. I didn't take responsibility for my mental health.

In the next series of blog posts I will begin with the "6 reasons why my affair happened" in the hope of opening up a dialogue that changes the conversation about betrayal wounds and what we can collectively do to design intimate relationships that heal, protect and build fulfilling lives.