Dear Roe,
My partner and I have been together 10 years. Since the birth of our child, my partner decided that she no longer loved me and wanted out of the relationship, but never really made a serious effort to do so. Despite this, in the intervening years we have been trying for a second child. To friends and family appear to have an enviable and stable life. However, I discovered my partner has now embarked on an affair with a colleague. This has been heartbreaking, despite all our problems. Unbelievably, you might think, we are continuing to try for a second child while the affair continues. I feel like trying to be parents again has become an obsession for us, so that our child is not alone in the world and in the probably mistaken belief it will heal our relationship. My partner has suggested an open relationship could be a way forward for now, but I’m not so sure. I feel trapped in that I don’t want to give up on a bigger family and the thought of separating and missing any part of my child’s life is unbearable. I consider myself quite resilient but this recent development has pushed me right to the limit. I’m relatively liberal and not against open relationships, but there is so much else going on and as it started from a place of deception, I’m not sure what to think any more and doubt my own judgment.
I’m so struck by how much pain you’re carrying. The grief of miscarriage, the heartbreak of betrayal, the loss of connection, and the effort to hold your family together while your partner chips away at its core – it’s too much. You’re trying to stay upright for your daughter, for your partner, for the image of the life you hoped for – but no one seems to be holding you. No wonder you’re at your limit. Anyone would be.
Your task now is to start taking care of yourself in a real and sustainable way – and I’m afraid that is going to involve some very difficult conversations and decisions, and is likely going to feel worse before it feels better. But you need to start imagining a life beyond this, a life that works for you and for your daughter – because this isn’t working, and it’s not going to magically heal.
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What feels so acutely painful here is the constant, disorienting contradictions that are now defining your life. To others your marriage seems perfect while you’re watching it crumble around you. You hoped for love, care, respect, monogamy, but what’s being offered is distance, betrayal and confusion. Your partner says she doesn’t love you, is having an affair, yet continues to live with you and try for another child. It’s dizzying. No wonder you’re doubting your judgment – this situation is a performance and has been for a long time, so you’ve lost sight of what authentic living feels like.
[ ‘My friend monitors her boyfriend’s phone and eavesdrops on his therapy sessions’Opens in new window ]
I think you know this. It’s telling that you recognise that your desire to have a child feels like an obsession and an attempt to mend something – and I think you also know that a child cannot mend what is happening here. If it could, the presence of your daughter would have already done so. Children can bring so much joy, but as you discovered with your daughter, they cannot create romantic love between two people. They cannot build a bridge that adults can’t build themselves, and frankly that’s too much of a burden to place on a child.
It feels like continuing to try for a baby is a way of avoiding the grief of facing what is happening here – the grief of your partner’s miscarriages and the hope for the children you could have had; and the grief of the type of love and marriage you thought you would have. By pinning the future of your relationship on to a possible pregnancy, you can continue to avoid looking directly at your relationship and instead keep focused on a hypothetical future. I understand why – the weight of the pain is tremendous.
Right now, you are co-parenting with the person you are married to, and your priority is your daughter. So let’s think about your daughter
That avoidance also feels like it’s playing out in your willingness to consider alternative paths like an open relationship. But again, this isn’t the solution you’re looking for. You don’t want an open relationship, and to be blunt, your partner didn’t ask for one – she cheated. A healthy open relationship is built on honesty, mutual care, and clear boundaries. You don’t have that. You have hurt, secrecy, and confusion, and simply slapping the label of “non-monogamous” on it won’t make it better.
You say you are resilient and I believe you – but I also think your ability to endure a lot is actually your biggest problem right now. You believe that just because you can endure something, you should. But it’s not true. Resilience does not mean putting up with pain at any cost. Sometimes, resilience means being strong enough to draw a boundary, to look at a deeply painful reality head-on and address it honestly. Sometimes strength looks like acknowledging what is being offered to you, what you actually want, and being brave enough to believe that what you want is possible, elsewhere.
This could mean telling your partner that if she wants to be in a relationship with you, the affair ends. It could mean telling her you need to go to couples counselling, or you need to separate. It could mean imagining a life and a future where your daughter has parents who are separated but who are less drained, less hurt, and able to show up for her fully because they’re taking care of themselves.
I know this might seem like an overwhelming change to consider right now, but I want you to think about what is possible, and not be confined by your determination to stay in a situation that is not working. Right now, you are co-parenting with the person you are married to, and your priority is your daughter. So let’s think about your daughter, and what a different, more honest version of non-romantic co-parenting could look like.
I know it’s terrifying – the fear of missing time with your daughter is real. But instead of focusing only on time, think about quality. What kind of home do you want her to grow up in? What version of love and partnership do you want her to see, and one day seek? A household where tension and hurt are quietly normalised? Or one where her parents are separate but whole, able to co-parent with respect and show her through new relationships that love should feel safe, mutual and kind? You still want a big family – and you can have one, with someone who wants the same life. You could have a beautiful blended family where there are half siblings and step siblings learning that families can come in different forms and still be filled with love and laughter and joy. You could have what you want – but it isn’t being offered to you here.
I highly recommend finding yourself an individual therapist so you have space to talk about your feelings and feel cared for, listened to and supported – and a talented couple’s therapist who can help you and your partner clarify where you’re both at, and what moving forward – together or apart – might look like.
You’ve been holding the centre for so long. But maybe the bravest thing now is to let go of what’s broken and take a step toward something real. The best of luck.
This article was edited on September 3rd, 2025.
