I Caught My Husband Creating a Dating Profile While Sitting Next to Me on the Couch

I was watching something, a show I can’t even remember now because it doesn’t matter, and I glanced over at Phil because he made a little noise, like a throat-clear thing, and his screen was visible from where I was sitting.

He was on an app I recognized. I’ve seen the branding before, it’s one of the dating ones. He was at the sign-up page. He was uploading a photo. His photo.

I watched him do this for about a minute. Then I looked back at my laptop screen and finished my episode.

At no point did he look up. When we went to bed he said goodnight normally and I said goodnight normally and I lay there thinking about whether I was sure of what I saw and eventually decided yes I was sure.

I’m Lacey. 37 years old, I work in marketing, we have two kids — Owen who’s 9 and Kira who’s 7 — and nine months ago we bought a house which has been financially stressful in the way buying a house always is but we’d agreed it was the right time. Now I’m lying in my own new-house bed wondering what my husband is doing.

The next morning I made a fake profile. I want to be honest that I know how this sounds. I used photos of a coworker who’s since moved to another city — not photos of her face, just a generic gym selfie she’d posted publicly years ago and some other generic images I found online. Name I made up. Age I set at 35. Location I set to our general area. I probably spent more time making this profile than was strictly reasonable.

Phil’s profile matched him exactly. Work in car sales, it said. Dad of two. Separated. Looking for something real.

Separated.

He had kids listed. His own kids. But he’d said “separated.”

I messaged him. Something like “love your profile, feel like car guys always have good energy.” The least threatening opener I could think of.

He responded in about four hours. Normal conversation starter back.

We messaged for two weeks. I’ll tell you what stood out.

He talked about his marriage as something that had been over for a long time emotionally, his words. He said he stayed for the kids. He said his wife didn’t really see him anymore. He described his home life as “just existing.” He was charming and funny in the messages in a way I recognized from when we were dating and hadn’t seen in a while. He made plans in the abstract: “when things settle,” “once I figure out my situation.” He told me things he said he hadn’t been able to tell anyone.

It went on. He got increasingly personal. After week two he asked if I wanted to meet for coffee.

I didn’t respond for a few days. Then I took a screenshot compilation of our full conversation and I sent it to him.

I sent it from my real number with a message that just said: “I think this is yours.”

He called me in about thirty seconds. And here is where I’m going to tell you that the confrontation was not satisfying. He was angry at first. Actually angry, which made me more angry, and we spent the first twenty minutes of the conversation in this terrible loop where he was saying I violated his privacy by making a fake profile and I was saying are you seriously talking to me about privacy right now.

Eventually the anger phase gave way to the other phase. He cried. He says he’s been depressed. He says the “separated” thing was just how you fill out the profile, everyone does it. He says the things he told my fake profile were things he’d been afraid to say to me because he didn’t think I’d hear them.

That part hit differently than I wanted it to. Because some of what he said about feeling invisible in the marriage, I don’t know. I’ve felt that way too. I don’t think that makes what he did okay. But it made the conversation more complicated.

We’re in counseling now. Once a week. The therapist has this very calm way of asking the worst possible questions at the worst possible time and then just waiting. I find it effective and annoying in equal amounts.

I don’t know what I want to happen. I know I’m still angry. Kira asked me recently if I was sad and I said just tired, sweetie. She patted my hand which is somehow the thing that made me cry later in the bathroom.

We still sit on our respective sides of the couch. For what it’s worth.