Inside the Guilty Mind of the Other Woman

But two years later, during a low point in my life, I reconnected with him. Only this time, I was seeing other people as well--two hunky, unreliable workaholics who were good distractions. And guess what? Both of them turned out to be married too. I was miserable. Finally a girlfriend told me something that turned my life around. She said, "Every woman deserves to be loved exclusively." Simple words, but I took them to heart. I had to let go of these married guys and get emotionally healthy. So I got counseling, stopped partying so much and started dating nicer men. One of them became my husband two years ago. After years of compromising, I'm in a relationship that's sure and steady. And that's how I feel about myself now, too. --Natasha, 35

I was his secret office fling; now we're married

Todd and I started out as work friends--he had a serious girlfriend--but it quickly turned into a major flirtation: e-mails, meetings after work, lunches together. I still remember the day we were driving back from one, and he put his hand on my knee. It sounds corny, but I swear it was electrifying. Nothing else happened until a few weeks later, when I couldn't help myself: I gave him a hug, which led to a kiss, which led to a full-on make-out session. Before long, we were sneaking off together whenever we could possibly get away. We were both racked with guilt. I never thought I'd be "that" kind of girl, and he was really a good guy--really! And he still cared deeply for his girlfriend. We just couldn't stop. Not for anything. I pushed my guilt aside with that classic justification: If he were happy with her, he wouldn't be playing with me, now would he?

We carried on this way--secretive looks across the office, racing to meet at "our spot," laughing off colleagues' comments--for a year. Then one weekend, I went on a trip with another guy, and all I could think about was how much I wished he were Todd. As soon as I got home, I told Todd I loved him and wanted to be with only him. The way he looked at me, I could tell he felt the same. The following week he broke up with his girlfriend; she never knew about us, and I'm happy about that. I don't think anything good could have come from her knowing.

Four years later, we got engaged. We've now been married for more than two years, and have worked through our guilt over how we started. And despite what people may think, I don't consider for even a nanosecond that Todd would cheat on me. There's just too much history, love and potential for it to be worth it. And those are his words. --Lisa, 36

I was the other woman--with a woman

Three years ago, I became the other woman. The twist in my case is that my lover was married to a man. I'm a lesbian; she's bisexual, and her husband said he understood her need to sometimes be with women. His one caveat: He didn't want her to fall in love with one. But she did, with me. From the beginning of the affair, she told me she would never leave him, and while I'd been fine with that at first, a year in I realized I loved her too much to share her. It's too hard to be the "other"--too draining, too negative.

One night, after she left my bed at 3 A.M., I realized I had to let her go. Otherwise, it would drag on, in all of its wrenching ambivalence, for years. My lover had needed me, a woman, to make her feel whole. But I didn't feel whole without having her completely. And so I let her go. My affair was the most selfish thing I've ever done. Giving it up might have been the bravest. --Sandra, 38