Should you confront the affair partner? What are the reasons to do this? Should you tell their spouse about the affair? Does the unfaithful spouse owe an apology to the affair partner's (AP's) betrayed spouse?

As someone who went into these conversations motivated by vengeance, I am going to share my story and perspective on how you can approach these issues in your own situation.

For betrayed spouses, the motivations can range from curious to vindictive:

• You want answers to questions.
• You want to reclaim power.
• You want to set the record straight.
• You feel confronting them will provide a sense of closure or relief from the pain.
• You desire justice or vengeance.

All of these reasons are valid and understandable, but I am here to tell you:

I was motivated by all of the above, but particularly that last one. "Early-recovery Candace" was consumed by my desire for vengeance to be exacted and for justice to be served. So, how did that work out for me?

After months and months of going around and around with my therapist, she finally agreed I could text my husband's AP. I took her consent, raced to my phone, and sent a seething text message to the AP without my therapist blessing the content. This was an "early-recovery Candace" who was mad as hell. I felt like I had nothing to lose because I had already lost everything!

Here's the hard truth for betrayed spouses: If the AP knew your spouse was married and still participated, they've already rewritten their reality to justify their role in the affair.

They didn't have your best interest in mind then, so why would they now? It is much more likely they will resort to damage control, or even shaming, saying whatever they need to say to get themselves off the hook. If they're still emotionally attached, or hoping to stay in the relationship with your spouse, they may say things intended to sabotage and destroy what's left of your marriage. They will repeat the story they've told themselves, shaped by fantasy, rationalization, and self-protection.

If you're considering staying in your marriage, please, protect your space. You're trying to rebuild something extremely fragile, so don't let the AP's version of events become embedded in that new foundation. They do not know your spouse's true motives any more than you do.

Reaching out can also elevate the AP's significance in the story. The more attention you give them, the more space they take up in your healing. In terms of your recovery, they don't deserve center stage, you do. So what's the strongest, most self-honoring move? According to our Founder and President Rick Reynolds:

When you refuse to engage, you send a louder message than any words ever could: You don't matter in my story anymore.

About that glaring text message I sent to the AP. There I stood in my walk-in closet, phone still in hand, heart pounding. Minutes became hours and hours bled into days. Once those days turned into a full week, it finally hit me: She's not going to respond.

The same woman who had the audacity to impersonate me (the real wife) didn't have the decency to acknowledge my text. Not even a single word. The silence was deafening. It felt like a second betrayal layered on top of the first, doubling the feelings of irrelevance that were suffocating me.

So, before you show up unannounced, make that call, or hit send on that text, ask yourself: What do I hope to gain by contacting them? Am I prepared for any answer or no answer at all? What will this do to my healing, my dignity, or my relationship if we're trying to reconcile? Will this invite more chaos, drama, or trauma into my life?

What about contacting the AP's spouse? Should you? Why would you?

• You want to expose the affair.
• You want to find additional information.
• You're concerned for them.
• You're looking for a friend who understands your pain.
• Your life is ruined, and you want to ruin their life too.
• You desire to engage in a revenge affair.

I believed I had righteous motives. I believed the AP's husband deserved the truth. If I were to sum up how that text went in one word: Dissatisfying.

After I sent the text, the other betrayed partner responded within minutes, agreeing to speak an hour later. I was finally getting my moment to strike back. I'd fantasized about this for months. It was my turn to throw a grenade into her life.

He answered the phone, we spoke, it was brief...It was disappointingly brief. He didn't want the full truth, not from me, anyway, and maybe not at all.

I'll never know what happened in that house the night I told the AP's husband about the affair his wife was having. What I do know is this: the grenade I had built up in my mind for so long? As far as I could tell, it failed to detonate. And for early-recovery Candace, a vengeful, desperate-for-justice Candace, that outcome was beyond disappointing.

What about an unfaithful spouse who wants to reach out to their AP's spouse?

• You desire to clear a guilty conscience and make amends.
• You're afraid of being unable to control their narrative.
• You fear blackmail or retribution.
• Your shame is driving you to throw yourself on the altar in front of the spouse as a sacrifice.

Wayward partners, while your intentions might feel honorable, the primary behavior that needs to be amended is your presence in their lives, so do the opposite of continuing to involve yourself and stay the heck out. You can't clear your conscience by inflicting new wounds on another and call it recovery.

Here's the reality: If the betrayed or the wayward spouse (or an extended family member or friend of either one) reaches out to the AP's spouse with information, a confession, or confrontation, no matter their motives, they are essentially setting off a bomb in another person's life, and that makes them an aggressor.

If you are thinking of reaching out to the AP on the other side, I implore you to consider these alternative actions:

• Share your thoughts with a therapist or support group and be open to their feedback.
• Direct your energy into creating boundaries or investing in your healing instead of obsessing over those other people.
• Focus on the three recoveries that matter: yours, your spouse's and the marriage itself. The AP has no place in any of those.
• If you are stuck in obsessive ruminating, our founder, Rick Reynolds, recommends writing out everything you wish to say in the form of a letter you never send.

Vow to do no harm and act in alignment with the values you're now trying to live by — honesty, integrity, and respect for all those impacted. Only then will you find the closure and fulfillment you are after.

About three years after I sent that nasty text to my husband's AP, I was kayaking in Morro Bay in Central California with my husband and daughters. The sun was shining, the water was calm, and there were adorable little sea otters playing in the water around us. It was a peaceful day that took years for our family to find.

As I stepped out of the kayak, I fumbled my phone — and just like that, it slipped from my hand and plummeted 20 feet into the water below.

It could not be rescued.

My first thought wasn't about my credit card or driver's license that were unfortunately inside the phone case. It wasn't even about replacing the pricey phone. My very first thought was that I didn't have my text messages backed up to the cloud. I lost the only text I ever sent to the AP. That one message that carried my voice, my pain, my effort to restore my dignity, while trying to create a shame storm for her…it was gone.

One of our daughters opened our Life360 app and there it was. My phone, still alive in a waterproof case, was drifting further and further out to sea. I tracked it for hours from my computer until the battery died.

It wasn't until days later that I realized the symbolism of losing my phone.

That message wasn't quickly deleted. It drifted and sank slowly, silently, into the cold darkness. My connection to the AP had been released. It was a poetic ending.

The quiet letting go of a vengeful chapter of my life no longer needed to be carried in my pocket day after day. While it wasn't by choice, the tie was severed. I realized that watching the unanswered message (my phone) drift out to sea is the loudest, most powerful thing I could have done with it. As Rick says, "Let them go and get your life back."

Whether wayward or betrayed, if you're ready to truly let go and begin to reclaim your life, sign up for one of our courses today and take a bold step towards healing. If you're unsure of where to start, schedule a call with our team. We've been there; we get the pain and are here to help.