‘I am married, but I also secretly love another man’

“Berat is sweet, caring and loyal. He works hard and is a fantastic father to Meltem. And then he is also very handsome. A dream man. My friends and I used to go to the pub where he worked five years ago for a reason. For three months he played hard to get, with his radiant smile and winking at all the women. When I finally asked him out, he confessed that he hasn’t been able to get me out of his mind since the first time he saw me. Since that first date, we’ve been inseparable.

More Dutch than my parents

Berat comes from a traditional Turkish family, my parents live in a Zeeland village where they rarely or never see a foreigner. Mom and Dad were shocked when I arrived with an immigrant – as my dad calls him. Nonsense: Berat was born and raised in the Netherlands. He usually cooks potatoes, vegetables and meat and is a loyal follower of Feyenoord. He’s actually more Dutch than my parents who experiment with food and are into salsa.

“Be careful, before you know you are wearing a headscarf and you have to repent,” said my father. Quite biased, because Berat is not even a practicing Muslim. His parents did, but they never made a fuss about my origins for a second. When I got pregnant, they were in seventh heaven. They showered us with gifts and filled me with food. I gained 25 kilos and hardly had to buy anything for the layette.

Out the door for good

My father was unyielding, however: “If you educate your child in that culture, you don’t have to come here anymore.” If he had gone completely mad: I was happy with the love of my life and overjoyed with my pregnancy. Isn’t that all you should wish for your child?

After the delivery, my parents went on a maternity visit once. “You are doing well,” said my father – and walked out the door for good. I cried for three days and then switched the switch. You cannot pull on a dead horse, although the fracture is very sad and almost impossible to digest.

Jelle

But now there is Jelle. My childhood sweetheart, the boy who gave me my first kiss. High blonde and the son of friends of my parents. We were fifteen years old and madly in love. My parents assumed we would get married someday. After three years of dating I went to the Randstad to study, and Jelle to Groningen. We soon lost contact: in the hectic pace of my student life, I didn’t even really have a heartbreak. I graduated, met Berat and never thought about Jelle again.

Until I bumped into him at a festival nine years later. I was twenty weeks pregnant and ordered a spa red, he a meter of beer. My heart missed two beats when I stood next to him. “Well, you haven’t been idle,” he pointed to my pregnant body. “Neither do you,” I laughed, patting his beer belly. I was crazy about Berat, my life was right on all sides, and yet at that moment I wanted nothing more than to fly into Jelle’s arms. It was like coming home to him.

I wanted to ask him a thousand questions and tell him everything, but I couldn’t say a word. Jelle was anything but sober, that didn’t really help either. We exchanged telephone numbers and agreed to call. Which neither of us did.

Life rippled on

The first hours after our meeting I was quite upset, but when I got home, smelled the Zwitsal scent in the future baby room and saw Berat relaxed watching a movie, the unrest disappeared and I soon stopped thinking about Jelle.

Life rippled on, Meltem was born, my happiness was completely like that gnawing grief after the break with my parents. Fortunately my in-laws were very sweet to me, they surrounded me with care and warmth. Berat turned out to be a sweet, committed father. He brought me tea when I was feeding, shopping, and cooking. When I went back to work three days a week, he picked up Meltem from daycare.

Chemistry

Seven months ago I ran into Jelle again. It was on my mother’s birthday, a day on which I should of course have been with her in Zeeland. In order not to think about that too much, I went shopping with a friend. Emo shopping, so to speak. At the end of the afternoon we dived into a cafe. I sat with my back to the door, but felt Jelle enter. Very strange, because he doesn’t even live in my city. Maybe he saw me before.

At least he says he smelled me when he opened the door. My girlfriend felt it too, our chemistry seemed to fill the whole room. ‘And who is that?’ she asked, looking at me intently. She was the first I called when I ended up in bed with Jelle a week later. I’m not in my head, I thought when I sent Jelle a text message a day later. My daughter was almost five months old. I was still breastfeeding. My whole life, my whole body: everything revolved around Meltem and her father. There was no room for confusion, for insecurity, for sex with someone else, for Jelle.

‘This had to be so’

“This had to be the case,” I texted. He immediately replied, ‘Of course. See you Thursday, then you come to eat with me. ‘ With a rudeness and naturalness that didn’t even bother me. It all felt just as logical.

I told Berat that I had a rehearsal with my band and went to Jelle. We immediately went to bed. “It’s you to me, period,” he said after that first lovemaking. We were in his studio. Forty miles away, my daughter slept in her crib. “I knew when I saw you at the festival.” Out of respect for my pregnancy, he said he had stopped contacting me, but after our second meeting it felt like we were part of a Greater Plan over which we had no influence.

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Torn apart

I drove home crying. Totally torn apart. The chemistry between Jelle and me was so strong. And uncomplicated. I missed my parents, with Jelle in my life they would be fine again. He was my first love, he knew my background; it all felt equally familiar. On the other hand, I didn’t want to destroy my relationship with Berat and our life with Meltem. Why would I? Just to reconnect with my family? If they really loved me, I wouldn’t have to give up my family.

A love can be huge and all-consuming, greater than you have ever known, and yet not fit into your life. Because the timing isn’t right. Whether the family doesn’t accept it. Is Berat that great impossible love because I lost my parents because of my choice for him? Either way, I’m afraid that if I choose one, I will always long for the other. And in this whole issue, of course, Meltem comes first. Every child wants the parents to stay together, on the other hand, no child benefits from an unhappy mother. There is simply no manual for my situation.

Love two men

Is that possible, love two men? I think so. After the first lovemaking with Jelle we were unstoppable. We see each other every Thursday, when I supposedly rehearse with the band. My guitar is in the car, but has never been out of the cover on a Thursday night. Berat sometimes asks when we are going to perform in front of an audience. Then I laugh and finish it with, “We are so bad, nobody really wants to hear that.”

The situation is untenable, I know that. Jelle wants to continue with me and asks more and more when I tell Berat what is going on. He wants to meet Meltem and dreams of having a child with me. The atmosphere has changed between Berat and me: we act cooler against each other. I don’t think he suspects anything, I’m afraid I’m the one keeping my distance.

Choosing Jelle means getting my parents, family and past back. Choosing Berat means a future with our family. I don’t want to get rid of them either, but maybe I’m just afraid of the consequences of my choice. Both men don’t deserve this. A psychologist advised me to distance myself from Jelle to see what remains of my feelings when I haven’t seen him for a few months. I think it is a good idea. Berat deserves my dedication the most. And both men deserve that I am honest with them: otherwise I will soon lose them both. ”

This article has previously appeared in Kek Mama.

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