Same thing for me. Going to therapy before I confessed caused me to see everything a lot differently by the time I confessed.
There were two truths, one that I thought as it was happening, and the one I could see with clarity after having some benefit of therapy.
I am not sure she is lying but I maybe not spending enough time evaluating what was happening at the time versus seeing it for what it was. In IC they want you to remain in your current perspective because that one is more reliable to work with.
Based on Mr. AN's recent posts, I do think HO has it more or less right. Mrs. AN has heavy baggage around her sexuality, probably mostly due to FOO and the religion of her upbringing. But inside of her, deeply repressed, was a more florid sexuality. The circumstances with the AP triggered something in her caused her to release it, like a dam bursting, but since this was all new to her, she didn't understand what she was releasing or experiencing.
Still and all, there is the esoteric question of "did she really love him?" Or, bigger horizon, does any WS ever truly love any AP? HO, and some of the other WW's on here, say "no, it was all fake." I do know that the memory can and does re-organize and re-orientate information in hindsight in ways that cast different views on it.
Here is an anecdote from my personal life. I grew up in a small town within an environment of heavy-handed Evangelical religion. Very repressive of sexuality. I was rather shy in those years, a shoe-gazing nerd. Not exactly a guy with game. I did get a girlfriend at age 16 whom I lost my virginity to, but she was not from our religious circle and she was the aggressor and initiator. During those years, I knew another girl, also from religious groups, but she was from a big city far away. She had family in my small town and we met when she occasionally attended church functions with her local family. We started writing letters to one another. This carried on for more than a year. Starting around age 15 or so.
I only saw her occasionally, when she would visit her relatives. So each time I saw her, she looked different. Around age 17 I saw her and "BOOM!" "POW!" she had tits and ass and was stunning. About 6" taller than me. Athletic and beautiful. By then, though, she really liked me, at least in her imagination. Her letters had gradually become romantic, then suggestive, then overtly sexual. At the time, she had older sisters who were very active sexually and as far as I can tell all the sex stuff was catalyzed by a mixture of her budding adolescent horniness and hearing about the sisters' romps. When we saw each other that year she was all over me. We had crazy monkey sex. I was in way over my head. She was out of my league in terms of looks, she had what seemed to me to be "big city sophistication", and she had the confidence of a banging hot young woman whose world has become a place of easily opened doors, freely proffered gifts, and nothing but admiring looks. This continued for a couple of years, until she went off to college, at which time she broke up with me because she wanted to be unfettered to sample the goods once she got to campus. Frankly, it sort of tore me up at the time because I was head-over-heels with her, or so I thought at the time.
Several years later I was back in my home town visiting my family. I drove past the family home of her relatives (small town -- you drive past everybody's home just to get a 6-pack of beer) and saw her car out front. It was highly distinctive so I knew it was hers. I stopped and went to the front door to say hello. Honestly, I thought maybe we might have a little tryst when I saw her. I found her out back in a lounge, reading a book. In a tiny bikini. Looking as hot as I remembered. After saying hello, the conversation took a hard left turn. She told me that she was traumatized and stigmatized because she was no longer a virgin, that I had essentially ruined her in terms of being able to enter into a serious relationship with a good Christian man, and that I had been a predator who took advantage of her youth and inexperience. That she regretted everything we had done and felt really stupid.
I was stunned. I honestly didn't know how to respond (it didn't help that I was still shy and had stunted social skills). From my perspective, there was absolutely no way I seduced her. I had zero game. Strike that. I had negative game. Plus, she was miles out of my league. I'd never have tried with her even if I had wanted to. To me it was clear that she had been the aggressor and initiator, that she had pledged mountains of lust and love toward me, that she instigated our first sex and all subsequent sex, etc. To me it felt like being a kitten sucked up into a tornado of sexual lust.
In any event, I have frequently revisited that later encounter when pondering what HO and other WW's say about their A sex. In hindsight, this young woman had some kind of fantasy going on in her head, some sort of repressed sexuality or some such, and she needed a way and place to release it. I was a convenient outlet because I mostly existed as written words on the pages of a letter. In other words, mostly in her head. The real me, that was merely an avatar for the fantasy that she had built for herself. Thus, when she realized later that her fantasy had betrayed her, she externalized it and blamed it on me.
Don't know where I'm going with this precisely. I guess (a) it's an example of how the memory can reorganize information to reach a conclusion that doesn't seem facially to be supported by the visible elements, but more to the point of this thread (b) how a woman can engage in a high degree of sexual behavior based on stuff that exists pretty much completely in her head.
Edited later. I remember where I was going with this. I've often thought back to that dynamic when reading discussions here. I think that, in a way, I had an "AP-like" experience with her. She wasn't cheating on anybody, but the attraction she had to our dynamic was something that she created almost entirely in her head. I was somehow just a catalyst for it. She wanted to "become a woman" (those were her words). She had worked up all of these structures and vectors in her imagination for how that would play out. And she projected it onto me.I would add, though, that in the process, I benefited from getting layed, big time. I derived a ton of pleasure from it. Which is a point I forgot to make in my post above outlining how the "he got more" dynamic is especially painful to a BH in scenarios like this. The WW injected energy into giving pleasure to another man. That may not have been her primary aim, but it was a result of her deliberate actions. In contrast, she has refused to inject energy into giving commensurate pleasure to her BH. This is where the injury for many BH's is too great. It's also the cornerstone of my cake baking metaphor.
[This message edited by Butforthegrace at 2:06 AM, Wednesday, March 22nd]