Eva Mazza - Sex, Lies & Stellenbosch

It was a rocky start to her so-called freedom, and it certainly hadn’t given her the much-needed rest she had hoped for.

The time alone had forced her to reflect on her past. She’d felt bitter about John and the humiliation he had caused her. She’d derided herself for being such a weak and subservient wife. She was to blame for the kind of woman she was◦– or had become◦– and she reproached herself for the example she had set for her children. It’s no wonder Brigit has no respect for me. I never once took a stand or showed any backbone.

Although she knew that John’s problem was pathological, she couldn’t help placing the blame on her inadequacies. She had never counted sexual prowess as one of her qualities, but she had been sure that she was no dead weight in the bedroom, either. She reflected on her perceived prudishness. She could never measure up to Frankie, who had made it her mission to be sexy. Her body, her clothes, her swagger◦– everything had been carefully honed to entice and please a man. No wonder John had strayed into her taut, toned arms. Who could blame him?

Especially since she, Jen, hadn’t given much thought to her own figure. John had begged her to have her breasts lifted and had nagged her for years to go to gym. He had basically been telling her that she didn’t excite him.

God! Had she forced him to stray? Maybe his sex addiction was all her fault?

She thought a lot about her parents, too, remembering how her father had stripped her mom of her dignity and pride. Why had she not shown strength of character by leaving him? Surely, if she had taken a stand against him, she would have shown Jen that women do have choices and, moreover, that women have power? Her mother was also to blame, then; she was the reason Jen had believed she had nowhere to go.

She fell into a deep, dark hole during that week. In fact, she didn’t venture out of her suite at all, not even to the restaurant, nor on any of the lodge’s complementary game drives or guided hikes she had been so looking forward to.

Jen spent all day in a darkened room, agonising over her past◦– her lost youth and her sad childhood◦– all the while berating herself for allowing her mother to persuade her to withhold the truth from John. To marry him, through fear! She hated herself for having been swayed by the expectations of others.

She ignored all phone calls and after the first day, she didn’t bother to dress, lying in bed in a foetal position, allowing herself simply to cry and to hate, to weep and to blame. Her desire to move forward had been crippled, paralysed by depression.

She was amazed to see Claudia and Sharon, who had decided to check in on her when she hadn’t answered any of their messages or calls. She was overjoyed to see caring faces. They even pretended not to notice her greasy hair and swollen eyes.

Their presence inspired Jen to get dressed and go out. They’d each booked into a suite of their own for the weekend, and the three of them drank in the tonic that is nature: the wildlife, the bushveld, the fresh air. The healing power of friendship and laughter was just what she had needed, and, by the end of the week, Jen was ready to face life as a single, middle-aged woman. She felt a fluttering of excitement at the thought that she was about to embark on a brand-new adventure.

As soon as she returned from the bush, Jen booked a weekly consultation with a “normal, run-of-the-mill” therapist◦– Sharon’s words◦– and set up regular Friday-night drinks with her two friends. She invited Patty to join them, but Fridays were her busiest nights at the ‘gentlemen’s club’ she had recently re-opened, so she was often unable to meet them.

The most important lesson Jen had learned from her weekly sessions◦– both at her psychologist and with her friends◦– was forgiveness. She had realised that anger and bitterness were not helpful if she wanted to forge ahead with her life. She learned to begin to forgive John for his lies and deceit, and to forgive herself, so she could start to love herself.

John had initially played hardball, but quickly realised it would be better not to antagonise Leonard, whose reputation was formidable. Leonard had managed to get his hands on Jen’s file from her gynaecologist, and after consultation with another reputable doctor, found that he had, as Jen suspected, agreed to withhold important information from her to protect John, an old friend of his.

Leonard had made it very clear to him that the exposure of his sex addiction, coupled with his collusion with Jen’s doctor, made withholding a decent settlement impossible.

Jen found that she was not even vaguely interested in whether her ex was dating or in how he was doing. News, however, did get back to her, as she expected. Soon after the memorial service, Patricia phoned her. She said that she admired Jen for having the courage to walk away from her marriage. She confessed to having been unhappy with Larry for years but knew she did not have the courage to do what Jen had done.

During one of Patricia’s regular phone calls in the time that followed, she got an unsolicited update on John.

“He’s really not doing well, Jen,” she volunteered. “He’s creepy. In fact, I think he’s in Larry’s league when it comes to being lecherous and crude. People talk about him like he’s a dirty old man . ”

When Jen told Claudia and Sharon about it over cocktails the following Friday, Sharon said, “That’s normally what happens. It’s weird, but men◦– particularly the strong, sexy type◦– lose their appeal after they divorce.”

Jen leaned back and shared a look with Claudia.

“How so?” they asked in unison, mimicking Sharon.

“On no, you’re exaggerating. Is that really how I speak?”

“That’s exactly how you speak!”

“Seriously, though, how so?” Jen asked.

“Men are often attractive to women because of the whole package they represent, which includes wife and children. In John’s case, he was married to a beautiful wife.”

Jen blushed and waved away the compliment.

“It’s true Jen, you’re gorgeous, and he has two great kids. He owns a wine farm and has an enviable lifestyle. Contrary to what you may think, this is not a deterrent. In fact, all those factors enhanced his attraction. Besides a married man being a ‘challenge’, they also come across as less desperate, especially after a certain age. It’s much more rewarding to bag the guy who has lots to lose than a guy who is middle aged and creepily available. What is John now, other than a middle aged sex fiend whose wife left him because of his promiscuity? Who wants that? It’s simply not as enticing, period.”

What Sharon said made sense. Why then was it different for Jen, who had become much more attractive to men, contrary to Frankie’s warning about older women being less desirable?

“Before, your husband and children defined who you were. In fact, you didn’t have an identity separate from them. Now that you are on your own, you are much more desirable. We’re talking about you specifically, Jen. There are many women who can maintain an identity separate from wife and mother within their marriages. You, however, were never allowed to, or you never allowed yourself to.

“But now you are independent and confident, and you haven’t made finding a man your mission. You are developing interests and friendships because of who you are, not because of who your husband is.”

Claudia spoke up. “I remember you telling me about that speech you made at John’s birthday. Underneath the wit was evidence that you hardly functioned independently from him. Your day revolved around his day. His hobbies became yours. Not only that, your one shot at doing your own thing socially◦– book club◦– was usurped by all the men. They upstaged you and your friends by organising their poker evenings for the very same night.”