Today in “uh…ok” news, a post over on Purple Clover titled “A LETTER TO THE WIFE OF MY BOYFRIEND” is starting debate about where sisterhood and feminism end and s**t shaming begins.
Dear Wife of My Boyfriend,
I’m not sorry.
I’ve done countless undeniably repulsive things — all without an ounce of regret. I kissed him on the stoop of your house while your birthday party was blazing in the backyard. I didn’t wake him when he fell asleep after sex, so he’d spend the entire night in my bed. I made sure (you don’t want to know how) he stayed over far longer than he intended to and had to rush home at 3:30 a.m. without showering first. He must have reeked of my scent when he walked in your bedroom door. I took pleasure in knowing that.
She goes on to say that the only reason the affair ended was because it was causing the mistress pain, which was something the husband simply couldn’t handle: “Cheating on you, he could live with. Hurting me, he couldn’t bear.” She then expresses the desire to take the wife out for a drink so the Mrs. could see what a totally nice gal the author is.
I understand that humans are complex, and it’s possible to feel many conflicting emotions and motivations at the same time. But isn’t it a little ridiculous to protest about how you aren’t heartless moments after detailing the ways you enjoyed making another person hurt?