Dear Jana,
When my wife died from cancer last year aged 55, it shattered something in me that I still haven’t found a way to put back together.
We had been married for 18 years. I believed in what we had. It was a loyal, steady partnership that carried us through the highs and lows of adult life.
I never questioned her love or her honesty. During her illness, I was by her side through every appointment and long night.
I buried her believing I was honouring someone I truly knew.
But I’ve since discovered that I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did.
While going through her belongings, I found an old mobile phone hidden at the back of our wardrobe. It wasn’t one she used regularly, and for a moment I assumed it was just another outdated device ready for the bin.
But I charged it and turned it on, and what I found blindsided me.
DailyMail+ columnist Jana Hocking counsels a widower who discovered his wife’s infidelity after she died from cancer
There were messages to another man. Dozens of them, spanning months, maybe longer. They spoke in ways that made it clear this wasn’t a one-off or a brief mistake.
They stopped when she became ill.
My wife had a life outside our marriage that I knew nothing about. Since that discovery, I have struggled to reconcile the woman I thought I was grieving with the one I’ve uncovered.
I haven’t told anyone, not our family, not our children together or my grown-up daughter from my first marriage. I’m ashamed, embarrassed. I’m carrying this on my own and it’s growing heavier by the day.
People speak about grief as something sacred. I feel like an impostor in it now. I still cry for her, but now I don’t know what those tears are for.
What do I do with this truth that feels too cruel to share, but too heavy to keep hidden?
Sincerely,
Grieving.
‘I’m carrying this on my own and it’s growing heavier by the day’ (picture posed by model)
Dear, Grieving.
I’ll start by saying, I’m so sorry.
Not just for the loss of your wife, but for the cruel reality of having to grieve two things at once – the woman you lost, and the marriage you thought you had.
That’s a double blow. If you’re not careful, grief like that can harden into bitterness.
The classic five stages of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. But with what you have just learned, you run the risk of parking in the anger stage and never leaving.
So here’s your first mission: talk. Tell one person. Someone safe. Someone who can sit with you in the discomfort without trying to fix it. You said you had an adult daughter – perhaps she is the best person?
If you bottle it up, that resentment will eat away at everything good in your life – even though you are not the one who did anything wrong.
I’ve seen people turn someone else’s secrets into a personal prison. They carry shame that does not belong to them and reframe happy memories as lies.
Don’t do that to yourself.
You don’t have to bury your anger alongside her. What you do need is a safe space to say how you truly feel without guilt. Keeping this locked away will only poison you.
Yes, she deceived you. But that doesn’t undo everything that was real about your marriage. And… I’m going to tell you a brutal truth that most people are scared to say out loud: it’s possible to love more than one person at the same time.
That doesn’t make it right, but it is human. Lord knows, I’ve been there.
Just because she was having an affair doesn’t mean she didn’t love you. You should know this in your heart, having nursed her in her final months.
I’m not telling you to forgive her, but I am asking you not to doubt the love she had for you. It speaks volumes that when she realised she only had a short time left, she ended things with her affair partner and turned to you.
What’s important here is you showed up when it mattered. You should pat yourself on the back for being a strong, moral and loving man.
It’s also important to remember that forgiveness doesn’t run on a schedule. You are allowed to be furious – and with no outlet or closure, I would strongly suggest physical exercise. You would be amazed by how much anger we store in our bodies.
You were brave enough to love her and care for her until her death. You are now brave enough to face the truth. And, when you are ready, you will be brave enough to let it go.
Dear Jana,
I found the Grindr app on my husband’s phone.
At first I thought it must have been a mistake or maybe he’d downloaded it out of curiosity. But then I opened it and saw multiple messages, photos of men’s penises and arrangements to meet up.
After some serious digging, I confronted him. Eventually he admitted he had been meeting up with one particular man for sex for over a year.
A woman who has discovered her husband is using gay hook-up app Grindr asks Jana what these means for her marriage
He says he doesn’t consider himself gay and he loves me but it’s just ‘a thing he does’. He told me ‘everyone did it’ at his rural boarding school and ‘none of his mates turned out gay’.
He even said it was ‘just guys helping each other out’.
I feel like I’m going mad. I don’t know whether this is cheating, an identity crisis or something I’ve been blind to for years.
We have children, a happy home and what I thought was a normal sex life. I don’t know how to begin processing this, let alone decide what comes next.
Sincerely,
Is My Husband Gay?
Dear Is My Husband Gay?
Okay, most importantly, I want you to take a breath, pour a stiff drink and remind yourself of one thing: none of this is your fault.
Your husband’s secret sideline on Grindr is not a reflection of your desirability, or the life you have built together.
It is, however, surprisingly common according to many of my gay friends who regularly fraternise with ‘straight’ men who happen to find themselves on the app.
You are not the first wife not make this discovery, and you won’t be the last.
Let’s tackle the label first. He says he is not gay. Fine. It’s not your job to persuade him he is, nor does he have to label his sexuality if he doesn’t want to.
But a married man having sex with other men behind his wife’s back is not the same as golf on Sundays. It is certainly not ‘just guys helping each other out’. Christ.
Whether he calls it bisexuality, curiosity, or a ‘boarding school habit’, it is sexual activity outside of his marriage – and that is cheating.
You are right to feel betrayed. Anger is not homophobia – it is a normal reaction when the person you trusted has been lying to you.
Now to the practicalities. This my ‘so your husband shags men, what now?’ to-do list:
1. Get tested, together: It is unsexy but essential. If he has been having gay sex, you need a full sexual-health screen, and so does he. That is non-negotiable.
2. Insist on complete honesty from this point forward: No more ‘just helping each other out’ vagueness. Ask: How many partners? How often? Protection every time? You need facts, not excuses.
3. Consider professional help: A therapist can help you untangle the betrayal from his identity issues. He may need his own counsellor to examine why he chose secrecy instead of honesty, and you deserve a space to decide what you actually want next.
4. Make a decision: Forgive him or end your marriage. I know kids and mortgages complicate things, but your emotional safety is still top priority.
5. Call a confidante: Secrecy breeds shame. Choose a trusted friend and tell them everything. Saying the words aloud stops them chewing holes in your brain at 3am.
A final note on love: it is entirely possible he cared for you and the kids while carrying this secret desire – that does not excuse his betrayal, but it may help to explain how he could compartmentalise.
Whether you decide to stay or go, remember you did not cause this. No woman ‘turns’ a man gay.
Dear Jana,
We had a baby six months ago, and my partner hasn’t touched me since. I understand she is exhausted and her body has been through a lot.
And I know this phase is meant to be hard – we barely sleep and everything smells like milk, so it’s not exactly sexy vibes.
But I’m struggling and miss the intimacy. Every time I try to talk about it, I feel guilty, like I’m being selfish for having needs when she is the one doing so much.
Yet I’m worried there’s no end in sight and this will become the new normal.
Is it standard to feel this lonely while raising a child together?
Sincerely,
Guilty Dad.
‘Every time I try to talk about it, I feel guilty. Like I’m being selfish for having needs when she’s the one doing so much’ (picture posed by models)
Dear Guilty Dad.
I say this with love: step away from the nipple.
Yes, you’re craving intimacy. Yes, it’s hard to feel like a ghost in your own relationship. But your partner is in the middle of a full-body, hormone-scrambled, milk-splattered identity crisis.
She’s not rejecting you; she’s in survival mode.
That said, you’re not a monster for missing her either. You’re a human being whose relationship has been shoved to the bottom drawer, right underneath the muslin cloths and unused breast pump parts.
Welcome to parenthood! Remember – you chose this.
Ask any parent who has been through those early stages and they will tell you the first 12 months are brutal. Sure, you were warned about the sleepless nights, but no one really talks about how isolating it is to sleep next to someone who is no longer able to put you first.
Here’s my suggestion. You wait a bit longer – but while you’re waiting, really show up for her. Be the partner who stacks the dishwasher, rocks the baby at 3am and picks up a coffee for her without being asked.
Not because it earns you sex tokens, but because it lightens her burden and makes her feel more like a human being again, rather than a milking machine.
Then, when the time feels right, bring it up gently. Not with a guilt trip, or a sad little ‘it’s been so long’ comment. Say something simple and kind.
Let her know you see how hard this season has been, and that when she feels ready, at a pace that feels safe for her, you’d love to find your way back to being close again.
And then maybe throw a spa voucher her way. Honestly, they work wonders. Tell her you see all the work she’s doing and offer something in return… other than your willy.
If you handle it gently, with humour, grace and patience, you might just help her feel like herself again and, with time, your sex life will return.
This won’t be the new normal forever. Many, many men have walked this path before you and waited even longer for intimacy to resume. But how you act during this strange in-between bit is the stuff she’ll remember. Don’t mess it up.
Hang in there and maybe give her a nice foot massage while you’re at it. One good deed, leads to another…
- Got a question for Jana? Email: jana.hocking@dailymail.com
