Recently, the small town of Kennebunk, Maine, was the focus of an unraveling, salacious story. Alexis Wright, a zumba dance instructor, and her partner/boyfriend were arrested and charged, with prostitution. Tongues wagged. In her studio, police found detailed ledgers. And secret video recordings. The Johns were filmed without their knowledge or consent. Click here to read the story. Fine. This is America. Nothing new. People get busted for this stuff. Often.
However, what truly grinds my gears are the Johns. And the bevy of legal wrangling which has followed. Lawyers have filed emergency petitions to prevent their clients’ names from being publicized. They claimed. Among other things, releasing their names would result in “irreparable harm” to their families. Damaged reputations. Invasion of privacy. Loss of jobs etc. Yeah. Right. No kidding. Apparently, the list contains the names of public officials, people in law enforcement, and other high places. So far, 21 names from a list of 100 +, have been released. In a small community of about 10,000 people. Well. You can figure out the rest.
Why didn’t these Johns (especially the married ones) consider all the repercussions to begin with? Did they spare a thought for the lives it would ruin? No. Or maybe they never thought it would come to this. They had one thought in mind. Perhaps a few. But fair is fair. If she is going to be paraded all over the media, why can’t the names be released? Why does the justice system waste time and resources to consider the motions? Rhetorical question. She has to live with this scandal. Surely these Johns shouldn’t be exempt from the same public scorn and ridicule?.
Chances are, very few are privy to what happens. Or doesn’t happen. Between a husband and wife. In their bedroom. We can’t judge another because of a fetish. Or two. Or better yet, how they chose to live their lives. BUT. When that life becomes public knowledge. Because of illegal activity. Surely. You can’t expect to escape unscathed. Its no longer an “invasion of privacy”.
Before I put my soapbox away. I believe. Only cowards. And the selfish. Cheat. If you’ve outgrown the relationship. And feel it’s necessary to look elsewhere. For something else. If you’re no longer happy. You’ve done all you can. To save the marriage. And nothing has worked. Then end it. Plain. And simple. You’re not doing anyone any favours by cheating.
My heart aches for the smallest victims. Often overlooked, in these situations. The children. Thier view of a loving, trusting world is forever changed. They will be forced to deal with feelings of shame. And embarrassment. In their own adult relationships, they will wrestle with issues of trust. As time passes, I hope these wounds heal. I empathise with the wives. Especially the unsuspecting ones. I hope after the first stages of anger. Denial. And acceptance are over. They can begin the process of piecing together their shattered lives. Can a marriage recover from cheating? Probably. But. It will never be the same.
What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. Unless of course, the gander has more money. Well. The soapbox is back under the bed.
Until the next post,
Best,
Juan
He pulled me gently towards him. Instinctively. I buried my face in his chest. A rich, alluring scent flirted with my senses. Obsession. By CK. He dwarfed me. By almost a foot. I felt protected. Cradled in his warm embrace. Finally we drew back. We needed to breathe. Independently. Our hands remained loosely wrapped around each other. My eyes travelled upwards. And clashed with his heated gaze. A gamut of indescribable emotions assaulted me. My pulse quickened. Could he feel my heart doing somersaults in my chest? My eyes. I’ve been told. Are very expressive. Right now. I hope that’s the case. I hope he saw how much I love him. How much I appreciate his kindness. The gentle way he responds to my needs. I’m overwhelmed by my feelings for him. Our gazes lock.Time is suspended. To my dismay, my throat constricts. And tears moistened my lashes. In an effort to keep them at bay, I blinked rapidly. And cleared my throat. I failed. Miserably. A traitorous tear trickled down my cheek. Followed by another. Causing a cloud of worry to flitter across his features. He was trying to understand.
Chindeepinlife 