From True Story magazine, circa 1920.

The resolution to Carol’s dilemma! Does she take the poor advice she’s been given by the media? You may be surprised to learn how she behaves. Read below to find out.

Overwhelmed by remorse, Carol set about becoming the perfect wife. She didn’t want a divorce or even a showdown. All she wanted was the exclusive right to her husband. So she was careful not to nag. She flattered her husband whenever she could. She paid less attention to the children, more to him. She went to the beauty parlor, and she bought new clothes. She kept the house spotless. She cooked him succulent dishes.

He was quite pleased with all these pleasant *improvements* in his wife, and went perfectly—except for one little thing. Carol’s husband continued to have fleeting affairs with other women. (Gasp! The succulent dishes weren’t the recipe for faithfulness after all!) no more than before—but also no less. Bitterly disappointed, Carol finally confronted him with evidence of his affairs.

“I’m sorry you had to find out, Carol,” he told her quietly. “I didn’t want you to be hurt. The fact is that love you quite as much as ever. You know that. But I just happen to enjoy a little sexual variety, like any husband. None of these other women means anything to me, and never will. I don’t think you ought to get Victorian about it. It’s simply a fact of married life that wives ought to ignore.” (Yes. That’s what it says.)

Want to know how Carol responds? You gotta click below to find out—and trust me, it’s juicy!

Carol hasn’t divorced him, despite his false philosophy. She still *loves* him, and she also loves her two children, too much to break up their home. But she’s hurt and bewildered by her husband’s second-degree infidelity. She had knocked herself out in the deep-dish apple pie department, without making the slightest dent in his determination to go after stray ladies. The reason was nothing Carol could handle by herself without expert outside help, which she finally obtained through her doctor. She was married to what psychologists called a “varietist,” and her husband had to be helped before he could be the type of husband Carol needed.

Dr. Alfred C. Kinsey notes that many husbands are unfaithful for no other reason than their interest in sexual “variety.” They may stray, he declares without respect to whether sex relations at home are satisfactory or unsatisfactory.

Back in the day, it seems that women accepted this answer. Men simply assumed women were loyal second class citizens, not equals, but sidekicks—riding on the coattails of the male’s adventure.

But what would Dr. Kinsey say if the situation were reversed? Would women simply be labeled as deviants? Would they get committed to an insane asylum, as many women did in those days, against their will, for not conforming to society’s idea of how a “proper” woman behaves?

What would you have done if Carol’s husband was yours? It’s still a prevelant problem, and while most men won’t excuse their behavior the same way Carol’s did, there’s typically some excuse. “I was drunk,” “You barely pay any attention to me anymore,” and so forth. If the husband took responsibilty and said, “It was wrong. I know I hurt you. I’m a jerk and I’m sorry.” Would that make it any better?

Do tell & the best commenter gets the December & January issues of True Romance free!

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