Long ago my husband crossed your path. To be honest, just writing this letter makes my heart pound and my breathing quicken, but that’s okay – because this physical reaction of my body simply means that I’m still alive.
I realize that my love was just another ‘John’ to you. I also know that for a few minutes of your night, you made him feel otherwise. I wish you hadn’t, and I wish that you and my husband never shared your bodies with each other, but I cannot undo what you two shared, no matter how much wishing. So, I’m sharing this letter with you.
He accidentally came upon you. Perhaps you were a real life fantasy transpired before him. I imagine you were irresistible, maybe even a muse he would invision. You were alluring, seductive, and ALMOST elusive. When you sold yourself to my husband, he in turn left a piece of himself behind with you – unable to carry all of who he once was back home, once sobriety set in.
I was not privileged to your existence for many years, but I knew someone, or something, had robbed me of the man I married.
He came home from Houston with a hardened heart. I didn’t know why the shift in his behavior, but I recognized that he was evasive. He kept conversations to small talk. He made our intimate moments short, superficial. I thought I’d done something to cause the change, but it had nothing to do with me at all. The barrier between us was needed to keep our marriage intact in some way. Even if only by a fraying thread – it worked.
Here’s the good news: once he released his sin and shame involving that short 20 minutes with you – our lives have changed for the better. No longer do you stand in between us. It probably sounds bizarre- for a wife of a husband who indulged in not only infidelity, but solicitation of a prostitute to be thankful to hear that her husband slept with a prostitute, but I truly am grateful for the truth.
”The truth will set you free, but not until it is finished with you.” – David Foster Wallace
Initially I was furious and took this personally. It wasn’t me, it was his lack of respect for himself and our marriage. Then add your slight of freshly polished hands, voluptuous figure, your sparkly new shell – and the deal was signed. Meanwhile, I lay at home sleeping in my bed, snuggled with three small children, totally oblivious to what was happening halfway across the country.
It took over a decade, but my husband was finally able to sift you out of his consciousness; causing an awakening in our marriage.
The absence that once existed, because of atrocities you two committed, resulted in us learning to appreciate the gift of presence. There’s nothing like betrayal, sprinkled with a dash of uncertainty of your future, to open your eyes to what you took for granted.
I wish you this beauty – a love that can overcome tough terrain such as this. I pray that if you are still alive, working as a prostitute, that you will be awakened, and for your heart to experience a love like this. I wish someone in your life to show you the true value that you hold, the possibilities of what your life can be – not limiting yourself to, well, being a rental.
You are not just a meat suit – you are a soul, a creature created in the image of God.
I hope by now you have realized this truth, and that you are no longer in survival mode – living day to day, ‘John’ to ‘John’ – but that you are truly happy, fulfilled even.
While it is true the moment you slept with my husband is, and will remain to be, like an old scar that inevitably, from time to time, reminds me of my emotional wound – burning like a branding iron to my heart, it is still well with my soul.
I forgive you.
Only you have the ability to open your mind, soften your heart, and realize that unfortunately, what you do is not just between you and the ‘John.’ It is a ripple effect, slowly shaking the waves throughout the lives of others.
Please know that even if you remain to be a prostitute, I’m rooting for you. Even if nobody else in your life is, I’m standing on the sidelines, cheering for your success at getting out of there.
If you no longer work in the brothel, and have found your solace and escape – I praise God. You are worthy of so much more than being a rental for men, you are priceless.