The Other Other Woman
Stories We Don’t Tell: Unspoken Truths about love life as single woman in her late 30s and early 40s
In my early 30s I discovered the gym wasn’t just a great place to find quality friends and boyfriends-- it was also a playground for unavailable men looking for fun on the side. But I digress.
For years, I’d been crushing on this guy at the gym. The epitome of tall, dark and handsome. He stood at an impressive 6’5, with broad shoulders, dark skin, dark eyes, dark hair. Everything that made my head turn.
He came in every day after 5pm. From the Stairmaster on the 2nd floor, I had a perfect view of the gym’s entrance. I’d watch him waltz in, dressed in fireman gear, breeze through the gym, and into the men’s restroom.
Ten minutes later, he’d reappear, in a muscle T and basketball shorts. His strong, muscular build hinted at years of rigorous physical training. Moving with purpose from machine to machine, he lifted weights in silence, fully focused.
I was mesmerized.
From my perch on the second floor, I admired how his golden-brown skin gleamed under the gym lights, the sweat tracing the contours of his muscles. His smooth, precise movements drew me in, the image of power and discipline. He rarely spoke or acknowledged the glances thrown his way, his focus unwavering and his movements effortless.
He was perfect, sculpted straight from the Gods. And I was obsessed.
After my cardio sessions I always headed to the ground floor of the gym for weight training. Sometimes he was close, sometimes not. But he was always around.
One day we ended up side by side. I watched him jamming to some music. I loved that he fully enjoyed himself. I thought I was the only one dancing in the gym but realized that he, like me, moved our bodies to the rhythm of the music blasting through our headphones.
One day we needed the same machine. Gathering my courage, I approached him after his set and asked if he was done. He was.
“I see you and I are the only ones feeling our workout music today,” I joked.
“I know,” he said, smiling back. “I see you jamming out as well. You gotta bring the energy. Or else, what's the point?”
“Exactly,” I said in agreement, taking note he’s already noticed me at the gym. “I totally agree. I love my music, it brings me into a whole new world.”
“Oh yeah,” he said, his smile getting bigger. “I’ve seen you stretching, you are really flexible!”
“Thanks,” I said, my heart racing. “It’s very cathartic for me.”
We exchanged names, I found out his name was Jaxon. Then we moved on with our workouts.
For the next few months, our interactions were casual. A nod here, a thumbs up when I saw him lifting extra heavy, a thumbs up to me when I did a split against the wall.
A few times we met each other in the parking lot, and one time we left at the same time. The glances were longer, the goodbyes slower. Soon it developed into car lot conversations.
“Oh, is this your truck?”
“Where do you live?”
“Do you usually come at this time?”
“See you next time!”
All very simple interactions, but interactions with a clear attraction. I was hopeful, but wondered why he didn’t make any move to ask me out, or for my contact information, anything besides chit chat at the gym or in the parking lot for months on end.
Then one day, I saw her. She came in with not only him, but a little boy. Shocked, I watched as they both moved from machine to machine, working out together.
No freaking way, I thought, feeling disappointed. There is no way he’s taken.
But there was. As I stretched on a bar next to the pullup apparatus where Jaxon was, I saw the little boy come over and ask him something. Dropping everything, Jaxon bent down to listen.
He looked just like him, I thought. I needed to stop this delusion that this girl was just a friend and her kid. This was his son, and his wife.
A week later and still in denial, I finally asked him.
“Jaxon, are you single?”
He smiled, clearly flattered by the question. “I’m not, sorry.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” I replied with a playful grin. “I just thought I’d ask.”
And that was that. Back to our gym conversations, back to working out and staring at each other, back to life.
Then I met someone. We moved in together, and my visits to the gym became less frequent. When I did go, Jaxon and I exchanged smiles, but I kept my distance.
After a year, I was single again. I hadn't seen Jaxon in months, but when we bumped into each other at the gym, the chemistry was still there. This time, we hugged. Our conversations picked up right where they left off. Our parking lot conversations picked up where they left off. Smiles and jokes at the gym, everything purely innocent.
And then I got laid off from my job. So I took a sabbatical, traveling around the world and visiting friends around the USA.
One day, hanging out in my friend’s apartment on the couch she graciously let me sleep on, I was browsing Facebook and saw Jaxon pop up as a friend suggestion.
My eyes froze on my phone. There he was, in all his glory, in a full power stance on the baseball field, shoulders broad, face down, the sun hitting his skin at just the right angle. He looked exactly as I remembered him.
I hesitated to add him as a friend, not wanting to look like a stalker. It took me 2 more months to muster up the courage to add him on Facebook.
He immediately accepted. I immediately messaged.
I found out he was divorcing. Going through a rough time, wife not treating him the best, kids involved, you remember his son, don’t you? At the gym? Yeah, he’s got a daughter too.
His life was a mess, he admitted. But it’s temporary.
Since he’s now available though, he’ll make time for me when I’m back in town. Please let him know, he’d love to see me. Let’s message until then, here is his number.
Two months later, I was back in town and messaged him.
He suggested a walk near a lake. We both love nature, we’re both active, let’s do it.
It had been over a year since I last saw him. Lots of things happened in that time, both with him and me. One thing that didn’t change, was the attraction to each other.
I met him in the parking lot and we immediately hugged, then walked towards the water and started talking. The conversation flowed. He talked about his divorce, how much he was struggling, and his very serious health issues.
I felt honored he chose to share with me his very private health issues and the struggles of being a single dad and dealing with a stressful divorce. I told him he was doing great. He told me I was glowing. We made plans to see each other again.
Two weeks later we met up at the park for a walk. I loved that we formed a friendship, albeit flirtatious, on common grounds. Working out, being healthy, staying active, hiking.
The walk took a different turn when the river we went to see was completely dry. Walking on the dried riverbed, we stepped on tiny white crunchy rocks that would’ve normally been submerged in 5 feet of water. He seemed happier, more at ease. He had been through so much with his health and divorce, but his attitude about life and his positivity was unwavering. I liked that about him.
Then I spotted it. A dark hole up in the canyons that bordered one side of the river. Intrigued, we both walked towards the canyon, and I climbed up to investigate. When I realized the cave was big enough to stand up in, I told him to come up as well.
He climbed up effortlessly, his long limbs and strong arms guiding him up with ease.
The inside of the cave was dark, with glimmers of light peeking out from the crevices above. The dirt was smooth and cold, almost powder like. The cave was tall enough to stand, but narrow. Our bodies brushed against each other and he steadied me with his hands on my waist. The physical touches lingered, until we held contact.
“There’s no one here but us,” I said, looking right into his eyes.
“I noticed,” he said, returning the gaze as he pulled my body in towards his.
“We’d better take advantage then,” I responded, feeling his hands grabbing my ass towards him more.
I took his head in my hands and we kissed, passionately, finally, after more than 3 years of anticipation. His lips were soft but firm. He kissed with a fiery intensity that left no doubt about his desire.
I melted into his embrace as he moved me towards the smooth rock wall in the cave and pressed my body into it. I felt the cold rocks against my back as he pressed his warm body into mine.
With a swift motion I lifted his shirt, watching the fabric slide over his head. He mirrored my action, pulling my shirt off with ease before scooping me up like I weighed nothing. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, as I felt the strength of his body beneath me. His hands cupped my ass as he carried me through the cave and gently lowered me onto the cold, soft earth.
That moment marked a turning point -- we were no longer just gym acquaintances flirting from a distance. We became lovers, claiming that cave as our own secret word.
And then, like so many of these stories go, reality hit.
We didn’t speak for a week, but when I texted to check in, his responses became sporadic. He didn’t play phone games. When he received a text, he answered it when he read it. It was something I liked about him. But now, several days and no response, I knew something was off.
So I did what anyone would—I looked him up online. And there it was, clear as day: a girlfriend, not just the wife he was divorcing. She posted about him, gushing, and the timeline showed they’d been together for months.
In full denial it was actually him, perhaps another Jaxon who played baseball, I kept digging. But no, it was him. After scrolling down her Facebook I found the actual month they made it official. Yes, month. Not days, or weeks. He’d been with her for months.
And he confirmed it with a comment on her post about how happy he was with her. Of course, not a single mention of her on his page though.
I was stunned. How had I missed this? All the signs were there, but I ignored them. I was just another woman in the mix-- neither a girlfriend nor the wife, but the other other woman.
The problem with being a good investigator is that you’ll always find something. Always. Then it’s up to you on what to do with that information. Knowledge is power, yes, but only if you know what to do with it.
Now that I had this knowledge, I had to do something with it. I could either keep pretending I didn't know, respond to his messages (if he ever texted back), or close the door completely.
I thought I got an easy way out when he didn’t text back. So I thought I’d just move on with my life. But he texted. Again and again. And I responded. Again and again. He talked about meeting up, I told him I’m moving to Houston for a bit. He told me he’ll meet me there, he goes all the time for games. I said ok.
And then I thought, what the fuck was I doing. This can’t keep going on.
As the weeks passed, our texts became fewer until they stopped altogether. I was left to process everything, finally confronting the reality I had avoided for so long.
Now, farther away in another city where I couldn’t give in to temptation. I had to reassess how I got here. Nothing that a few good sessions of journaling couldn’t solve. Putting it on paper and out of my head gave me a bit more clarity.
In hindsight, I noticed several things.
I pushed this relationship, the meetups, etc, and he was happy to follow along
I believed he was honest with me and didn’t bother giving it another check
I also now believe his honesty was also to keep me away so he didn’t do something he didn’t want to
I ignored all the signs I should walk away - the wife and kids, the health issues, the money n divorce lawyers, the debt he told me about
Finally, after ignoring all those signs, I got the one sign I couldn’t ignore. A wife AND a girlfriend. On Social Media, out in the open for everyone to see
I hold myself to a very high moral and integrity standard. But that standard just came crashing down. Not only was Jaxon still married, but he also had a girlfriend.
As far as I knew up until that point. I’d never slept with a man who was already in a relationship. But here I was, 37, mature, on a deep healing journey from my childhood, with all the tools known to man at my fingertips on how to heal from trauma, stop repeating abusive cycles, healing generational trauma, feeling great about my life and myself.
Except, I’d just slept with a man who had a wife and girlfriend. Life can be cruel with their reality checks, and this was one of them. But where could I go from there?
I knew I had to allow myself to grieve this loss. This was not a random Tinder encounter. This was a man I had cultivated a friendship with. Who I deeply admired and respected. Who I’d known for three years at the gym. And while yes, we didn’t know each other well, he became a friend, a gym partner, someone to talk to here and there, flirt with working out, catching up on life, etc. He was fun. And the hottest man I’d ever laid my eyes on.
But It was time to close the door on all of that. This was no longer a relationship I would pursue at all, under any circumstances.
I weighed the consequences and decided it wasn’t worth my or his time to confront him. I was already in another city, and we hadn’t seen each other for three weeks. There was no point in confronting someone over texts. Text arguments never go well. So I left it.
As the texts died out and we both ghosted each other, I was glad it went that way. He never asked where I was, how I was doing. Neither did I with him. It would've been so much harder to walk away if he was still texting me, chatting it up and wanting to see me.
To ease my emotional roller coaster I went to a new gym, ate chocolate, and watched TV shows. I called a few more friends and told them what had happened. It was sad for me, but also embarrassing.
The question of “how did I not see this coming?” seemed so obvious now. Even more, how did I turn out being the other other woman?
In my journals from 2021, I wrote the following:
“Being the other other woman taught me so much. I knew I needed to stick to my values, stop cheating on my non-negotiables with a partner. I’m not doing casual sex anymore. I’m not getting distracted with the bright packaging. Listen to the warning signs and walk away. This guy was a literal repeat of my ex boyfriend who only lasted a year because nothing in our life was aligned except our love for adventure.
I can’t keep repeating patterns. I need to grow, I need to evolve, and what I look for in men need to grow and evolve with me.
I'm still looking for love, but not in a The Bachelorette type way. In a way that I’m open to possibilities, but also closed on things that aren’t right and aren’t aligned. I’m not playing around. I’m ready to find my person, and I’m holding out for him, keeping my blinders on from any distractions that may try to come my way.
I’m no longer the other other woman. I’m THE woman. I’m the one who is waiting for man, living my life, becoming the diamond I want to attract. And I can’t collect stones on the way. I don’t have the time or emotional capacity.
I don’t want to be distracted by shiny stones on the road to finding my diamond”
At the time, these notes were helpful to me and gave me the strength I needed to walk away.
But the universe had other plans. I’ll tell you about them soon.
I’ll just end it here with this: It wasn’t my fault, nor his. It was something that happened, and something I take responsibility for.
It takes two to tango. And tango we did. Until I tangoed myself out of Jaxon and into the arms of another.
To be continued…
I want to hear from you.
Have you ever found yourself in a similar situation, where you were involved with someone who was already in a committed relationship? How did it make you feel at the time?
Did you ever believe that you would never be the type of person to engage in this kind of relationship? How did your perspective change when it happened to you?
Have you shared this experience with others, or kept it to yourself because of the same, taboo nature and judgment of others?
I want to open the conversation for all women to be able to talk about these things.
Life as an older single woman is SO MUCH more complex than we make it out to be. We have to have these conversations. We have to be able to talk about the realities of navigating life as a woman. And we also have to hold ourselves accountable.
Comment below and let me know your thoughts! I want to hear from you!
PS: names and descriptions have been changed to protect the privacy of others.