NC for this.
Yep, it’s one of those ‘wife snooped and now sitting in shock’ threads.
The backstory might be a bit different to normal, though. Married 13 years, one DD (9). Him 54, me 49.
It’s been a sexless marriage since we conceived our child, his choice. I tried everything. He knew I had a high libido when we met, that I was an adventurous and fun lover, that it was a big part of my identity and idea of a fulfilling relationship. Loads of counselling later, all he’s said is that he’s more religious now (Catholic) and he doesn’t think it’s ‘right’ to have sex. That, and I’m an atheist (raised Catholic), and that puts him off.
My observations over the years were that he was likely asexual (or very in denial gay?). He didn’t react like other guys I know to sexual stuff on tv, attractive people passing by, etc. No morning erections, found discussion of masturbation distasteful, etc. He basically says he wants to live like a monk 
It’s been a devastating sadness for me to be without that normal partner intimacy, not able to model a normal relationship to our girl (no touching at all now for a while). My self-esteem has suffered, but even though it was very tempting to stray I stuck by my vows. It’s been very hard to watch my juiciest, sexiest years slip away. My parents divorced (over infidelity) and I swore I wouldn’t put my girl through it, ever.
Seperate to this, he’s become very conservative in religious and political views over the past 3 years. From quite liberal left, to full-on Trump fan. Pontificates ‘the Woes of immoral modern life’ so much to friends and family on social occasions that they’ve started knocking back invitations if they gauge he’s going to be there. Even the pope isn’t Catholic enough for him- the mass should all be in Latin, etc. Plus some very anti-feminist views that really make me 
, seemingly coming from some dodgy Men’s Rights youtube rabbit-hole forums (which he denies).
Today I’m packing up the family for a months holiday (not in a lockdown area). Out of my mind busy with 300 lists, and tired from hosting his enormous family over Xmas. I go to put something in his work bag, and a handwritten document catches my eye. I’m not in the least embarrassed to say that I pulled it out for a closer look. It’s a draft ‘confession’, like making notes ahead of going to a church confessional with a priest. It’s listed under the main categories of sin, so def not meant for my eyes or ears.
Apparently he’s got plenty to be sorry for. Including sex with 3 women during our marriage. Except then there’s an addendum, with an asterisk and all, that says ‘+1’. Basically a running tally? Nice. Then another side note that says ‘because of rejection by my wife’. So let’s add ‘lying to a priest’. It also says (as an excuse?) that the women weren’t married. That’s alright then.
Another whole section asking pardon for stealing money from me, his dad (now dead) and his work colleagues. Delightful.
I’m in shock, my whole body is numb. The hypocrisy, and sheer waste of my love and fidelity, is what’s doing circuits in my mind. And needing to hold it together as my DD chatters away next to me about her holiday excitement (after a tough 8 months of hard lockdown in 2020).
I know I need to pretend I don’t know. I’d gone to a solicitor a couple of months ago to see my situation if I divorced him. It wasn’t urgent- I have another property (farm) that he lives in half the week, since the day he told our daughter she wasn’t dressed modestly enough (shorts & tee, at 10? ). Solicitors painted a grim picture for me. Basically he’ll be taking me to the cleaners. Inherited wealth on my side, a bit complicated to explain.
I’ve been such an idiot. Should have ring-fenced my money better, should have demanded more transparency over his finances, should have not been a SAHM for the years I was, should have seen it coming, should have recognised his bullshit hypocrisy, should have taken my fun where I could find it instead of being his ‘soft place to land’ while he was out being a pig.
So, I guess I need a bit of that famous MN support, if there’s some going spare? Some tips, some tricks, something to stop me feeling so ugly and unlovable and stupid. Something to keep my chin up while I figure out where to get some ducks, and line them up? Right now all I can think is: pack the damn bags woman, before your feelings break through and you start howling into a pillow. 