I left my husband for the love of my life – and then he did something that utterly humiliated me: ASK JANA

Dear Jana, 

Six months ago, I left my husband for another man. It wasn’t a reckless fling – we fell in love gradually.

He was married too, and we promised each other we’d leave our partners and begin again. I kept my word: packed my things, moved into my own apartment, told my kids, and tried to rebuild.

He said he just needed a bit more time to ‘sort things out’ with his wife.

That was six months ago, and he’s still there. Every time I ask, he has a new excuse – the kids, the house, their finances, the timing.

I’ve gone from feeling hopeful to humiliated. My friends warned me this would happen, but I genuinely thought this would be different. 

Now I’m left wondering if I blew up my entire life for a man who was only serious when it suited him.

How long do I keep waiting before admitting I’ve been played? 

The Other Woman, Still Waiting

Dear The Other Woman, Still Waiting,

The short answer? Yes – you absolutely blew up your entire life for a man who was only serious when it suited him.

The longer answer is more complicated, but trust me, it’s good news for you.

A friend of mine faced almost the exact same situation last year. She finally worked up the courage to leave her husband, expecting her lover to follow, only to be met with a blank stare and the classic line: ‘Well, I hope you don’t expect me to do that too?’

Spoiler alert: she did.

But here’s what she learned: after the tears, humiliation and a fair bit of therapy, she knew leaving her marriage was still the right decision. 

Think about it: if you were truly happy at home, you wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone else in the first place. That detail matters – because this whole messy, painful situation didn’t just happen to you; it happened for you.

It forced you to confront what wasn’t working in your life – a level of honesty most people never reach.

Now, let’s talk about this poor excuse for a man who keeps stalling. 

He’s not confused – he’s just comfortable, and every time you see him, you let him stay that way.

You did the hard part, while he enjoys the best of both worlds: a loyal wife at home and the thrill of keeping you on the hook. He has zero incentive to change; you’ve given him every reason not to.

So stop. Seriously, stop – not to punish him, but because you deserve more than living your life in the gaps between his excuses. The real betrayal isn’t that he hasn’t left his wife; it’s that he’s keeping you stuck. Let it go.

You’ve already survived the worst of this – breaking apart a life you once thought was permanent. Don’t waste time sitting in limbo. Move forward with the same courage you used to leave, and this time do it for you.

Trust me: the woman who rebuilds herself after the wrong love is always stronger than the one who waits for the right man to grow a backbone. Honestly, this man should give you the ick – so embrace it!

Dear Jana, 

A year after my divorce, I went through what can only be described as my ‘eat, pray, shag’ phase. 

I was in my forties, finally free, and determined to make up for lost time. I dated, travelled, said yes to things I never would have before, and in the middle of all that, I caught herpes.

At first, I was devastated. I felt dirty, ashamed, and completely terrified of telling anyone. But I got educated, learned to manage it, and after a while, accepted it as part of my story. 

The problem is, now that I’m ready for something real again, I don’t know how to talk about it.

When do I bring it up? Before the first date? Before sex? When I know I truly like someone? 

I’m terrified of rejection, but I don’t want to live in fear or keep hiding. It may be a small part of my life, yet it feels like the one thing that could unravel everything.

How do I tell someone without it defining me? 

Healing but Hesitant

Dear Healing but Hesitant,

First of all, let me start by saying this: you are far from alone. 

About one in eight Australians has genital herpes – that’s over half a billion people. Half a billion! If herpes were a dating app, you’d never run out of matches. So let’s park the shame right now; it’s simply not warranted.

Honestly, I love that you had your ‘eat, pray, shag’ era. Every divorced woman deserves one, in my view. I fully support any woman who wants to dive in and discover what truly brings her pleasure. Bravo to you – and yes, lesson learnt: condoms do matter. 

What happened wasn’t a moral failing – it was pure bad luck in the most human way possible.

Now, onto your question – when to tell someone. The short answer is: before sex, but not before connection. Telling someone before the first date is unnecessary; it’s not exactly an icebreaker. 

You don’t owe that information to someone who hasn’t even earned your trust yet. But once you feel things are heading in a physical direction – maybe you’ve shared a few kisses, maybe you’re having the ‘what are we doing here?’ chat – boom! That’s the time.

It also means you’ll need to slow down. Yes, you’ll have to get to know someone before jumping into bed – which, let’s be honest, is no bad thing now that you’re ready for real dating.

When you do tell them, keep it simple, factual and confident. Something like: ‘Hey, before this goes any further, I want to tell you something. I have herpes. It’s really common, it’s completely manageable, and I take medication to make sure it’s not contagious. It’s not a big deal for me, but I think it’s important you know.’

Then stop talking. The key is not to over-explain or apologise. 

If you act like it’s shameful, they’ll pick up on that energy. If you act like it’s a minor medical detail – because that’s exactly what it is – they’ll usually take your lead. Heck, they might even surprise you, and tell you they have it too. 

And here’s something else that might surprise you: studies show that when herpes is disclosed with calm confidence and honesty, most partners react positively or neutrally. 

The rejection rate is far lower than people imagine. What people really fear isn’t the condition itself, it’s dishonesty. So if you’re open and grounded, you’ve already diffused 90 per cent of the awkwardness.

You’re not damaged goods. You’re a fully grown woman who’s lived, learned, and made peace with her own story – and that’s far more interesting than perfection.

Anyone who can’t see that is someone you wouldn’t have built a healthy relationship with anyway.

So next time you start to panic about ‘the talk,’ remember this: herpes doesn’t define you. How you carry yourself does.

Dear Jana, 

I’m a 53-year-old married father of two and, lately, I feel invisible. My wife and I have a comfortable life with a nice house and incredible kids – but our routine has become predictable and the spark has gone. 

We haven’t had sex in nearly a year, and when we do, it feels like a chore for both of us. 

I don’t want to leave my wife. She’s a good woman, and I still care about her deeply. But I’m desperate to feel alive again. To feel wanted. 

I’ve tried the usual – dating apps, the occasional flirtation at work – but finding someone who wants a discreet affair seems impossible these days. Everyone wants drama or a title, and I just want connection without chaos.

I know it sounds pathetic, but I can’t shake the feeling that life’s slipping away from me, and I’m too young to feel this numb. 

Is there a way to scratch the itch without blowing up my whole life? 

Restless Husband on Borrowed Time

Dear Restless Husband on Borrowed Time,

Excuse me while I get out the world’s tiniest violin and play a sad little tune for your poor, tragic, sexless existence. 

You’ve got a loyal wife, healthy kids, a comfortable home, and the kind of stable life most people envy – yet we’re meant to feel sorry for you because you can’t find anyone to have an affair with?

Give me strength.

How about you take a hard look at your real feelings and admit you’re not seeking connection – you’re chasing an ego boost.

You just want to feel powerful again, to be looked at the way your wife once did, before you started letting everything slide – flirting, housework, child-rearing, and probably your waistline too.

You’re not invisible, you’re just uninspiring.

You say you don’t want to leave your wife, but you’ve already emotionally checked out. Let’s be honest: you’ve got one foot in your marriage and the other scrolling through dating apps, hoping some unsuspecting woman will validate you – because you can’t be bothered to do it yourself.

It’s lazy, selfish and pathetic.

If you’re so desperate to feel alive, do something about your actual life. Talk to your wife, plan a weekend away, figure out when you both stopped making an effort.

She’s probably just as lonely, but at least she isn’t out there humiliating herself – and risking her family – for a fling.

You think you’re craving passion, but what you really miss is being someone worth desiring. That doesn’t come from sneaking around – it comes from showing up.

So stop the pity parade. Either fix your marriage or leave it properly, but don’t sit there whining that no one wants to cheat with you. 

There’s nothing attractive about a man who’d rather betray his family than grow up.