I’m still hurting. Its getting old.

I feel like I’ve been far too quiet, but honestly, I just haven’t had much to say. I’m trapped in a cycle going through the feelings over and over again. The bad ones are a little less painful and often, but I don’t always feel like I have made great strides. Kind of thought I’d be further along in the healing at this point; but I’m better than where I started so I’m counting that as a win.

If you’re not on the mailing list for affairrecovery.com and if you haven’t attended their conference in person or online, I really recommend it. I’ve learned a lot and gotten through a lot. Still plenty to go though, which is where Rick Reynolds got me with today’s email: Affair Partners: Eight Reasons Not to Confront Them.

See, all I want to do is confront her. I literally want to drive to her house, knock on her door, and ask all the WTF questions that bounce around inside my head. Why him? Why us? Why lie? Why steal? How do you sleep at night? How can you be in a marriage where your husband pimps you out? How can you honestly tell your kids you’re a good person? Does your mom know what you do? How do you look at yourself in the mirror? What made you become a lying online prostitute? What made you stop? Are you sorry? Do you have regrets? Can I get my money back (or at least some)? Do you really think you’re going to ever escape your past? I could go on….pretty sure you get the idea.

So for the love of all things wonderful and Holy I was READY for the eight reasons to NOT contact. PLEASE visit affairrecovery.com or look up Rick Reynolds on YouTube for his full piece, but here are my takeaways from his points.

Affair partners lie. Uh, yeah. Duh. Why on Earth do I think I would get an honest answer? Or that I could trust the answer? Obviously, since she knew he was married and what she was doing, morals and ethics aren’t high on her list. Kind of should have seen this one coming.but it was helpful to see it in black and white.
How much info do you really want? I don’t know here. I feel like I don’t know or understand how this relationship developed still. I can’t tell you why wonder nags at me still, but it does. I also can’t tell you which specific piece of info would actually make me “better”. I wish I knew the kind of pics he sent, so I know how he hurt me. I wish I knew the words that were said so I know if I was being attacked. Did he say mean things about me? Is that how he feels? Or felt? Did she say mean things? Did he let her? It’s bad enough sharing himself with her…but did he AT LEAST love and respect me enough to not let her run me into the ground? Was I AT LEAST better than her in that regard? I struggle with wanting to know still. I can’t explain why. I think I’m still just trying to understand.
Talking to an affair partner is comparing apples to oranges. This hit me like a brick wall this morning. Yes. Its two different things. She is immoral, she has no ethics, she lies, she cheats, she steals, she must have psychopathic, narcissistic tendencies to even be able to get out of bed each day. Love, respect, safety, value, security – none of that is part of her life. It can’t be. Her self-esteem and ability to even take care of herself must be so low, I can’t even imagine. She may laugh at my husband’s actions being disrespectful toward me – but she has a husband who puts her private parts on display on the internet to make money. She doesn’t have a husband, she’s just legally tied to her pimp.
I, on the other hand, have a husband who made a serious mistake but is sorry and working on it. And yes, he was interacting with her but that’s one person, he wasn’t selling himself to the highest bidder. I have an education, an amazing career, and actually don’t NEED anyway to take care of me. No do I have to sell myself or do immoral things to pay the bills. I’m a respected member of my community and have nothing to hide. My children can be proud of me, my mom too. I am a law abiding, intelligent, strong, tax paying woman. I control my life, no one else does. I stay where I want and I leave when I want.
Vengeance doesn’t work. I like to think it would. See, his affair partner? Took our money, invested it in a scam online business and is now trying to “coach” entrepreneurs to be like her. She keeps leaving out the “do sex acts for strangers on the internet for money and steal money from families” step though. She presents herself as if her brains and hard, honest work got her where she is. ALL I WANT TO DO IS COMMENT WITH WHO SHE IS. Pictures. Links. The whole nine…I want people to know NOT to pay her to coach them, she’s a fraud. I want her to fail. I want her to find no success. I want her homeless, living in a ditch. But what’s that going to do for me? Doesn’t take away my pain. Doesn’t give me my money. Watching someone succeed when they’ve done everything wrong is hard.
Don’t gratify their hostility. She thinks she is better than me. I know this, she did tell me (I know…we shouldn’t have interacted, but we have). “He came to me willingly” is her favorite line. But, if I go after her? I justify her thoughts and the story she’s spinning in her head. It’s easy to be awful to an awful person – justifiable even. But to be awful to a good person for no reason? Way harder to justify.
Trying to get them to “get it” is futile. Getting them to admit/understand/see how everything they did is awful is impossible. She would have to admit to actually being a bad person. Human nature alone says that’s not happening – I’m certainly not the first wife to try to get through to her, so the odds of me being the one to actually open her eyes? Slim to none.
It tends to perpetuate the problem. I see that point. If you have a scab and you pick at it daily, it will take FOREVER to heal. I guess the same goes with this. If I pick at her or pick at him or pick my brain constantly…this won’t heal either. Not that it makes this any easier. I have NO IDEA how to stop the picking yet, but I see how it would be helpful. Any tips?
You are not lacking anything. I struggle here too. I get what he’s going for and I thank him. But seriously, SOMETHING about her triggered SOMETHING in him that NOTHING in me was. SOMETHING did. Maybe it was literally something as silly as her flat tummy and willingness to do repulsive things for strangers. I have had HIS kids so things aren’t as toned as I would like, but that’s not the end of the world. I struggle still looking for that thing. I know everyone says there’s NOTHING about me that makes this happen…but I still struggle accepting that. The best I can do is this: I know I am decent looking. Maybe not “internet prostitute” hot, but nothing to be ashamed of. I am a good person. Someone people look up to and reach out to for help. I can’t think of anyone who can honestly say their life is WORSE for having met me. She can’t say that.

There we go. I’m still here. Still struggling and fighting and in the trenches. Not much more to say right now, other than I hope you’re still here with me too. I’m still going to therapy, praying like mad he will go back. I’m still writing, reading, learning, and growing. Doing all I can to be my best me.

Please read more…

Let’s talk about that time I shared an overview of our story in my allotted two pages and the internet freaked out….

Wow. I am surprised, humbled, and shocked by the outpouring of similar messages, support, and judgement something so brief could bring to the world.

To the new visitors here, welcome. I kind of hope you’re here to judge, since that means you’ve never been in this boat before. Going off that, I want to quickly address a few things:

1. This is real life. I decided early on to be open and vulnerable for myself and anyone else trying to rebuild after any level of infidelity. I share my good days and my bad. Please don’t judge the whole story on one or the other. Or a few paragraphs online.

2. I really hope you look at the posts here, there’s way more to our story. Way more is being worked on. In fact, 99% of people’s concerns are being addressed. He is in therapy with a professional who specializes is sex/porn addiction and infidelity. I am also seeing someone too address this issue (and past ones to help me heal). We’re surrounded by professionals in this process – no one is so naive that we think we can do this solo.

3. He didn’t “get off” scott-free. He’s had to have terrible talks with friends, family, strangers, doctors, lawyers – on his own. His story and the work to do his ends, is on him. He’s sat through many long, painful, tearful talks and fits of rage from me. He takes it. He’s picked up a larger chunk of the work around the house so I can focus on me too.

4. I’m not afraid or incapable of being a single mom. I’m an intelligent, college-educated, highly paid, professional. With wicked good credit and fat savings that’s solely in my name now. If I wanted to leave, I could throw a down payment on a new house and carry on with my lifestyle.

Vulnerability isn’t a weakness. Forgiveness isn’t a weakness. Fighting for your marriage isn’t a weakness. Neither is walking away. We said “for better or worse” in our vows and this definitely falls into the “worse” column. But, the better is so amazing that yes, I am willing to do the work and the hard things to hopefully get back there and even better. And I’m thankful he is willing too. If he weren’t, I wouldn’t be here.

Crashing.

Its amazing how tiny things can trigger and lead to a spiral. Things totally unrelated to our marriage struggles, my insecurities, and long standing trauma from my earlier life can knock me down into darkness so quickly still. I’m trying to get better at dealing with these things and right now, merely naming it feels like a win. I’m still baby-stepping my way through life some days.

We are 18 days away from the one year mark of this mess. I am one year into this new life with a new perspective. There’s good, there’s bad. I’ve learned a lot, shared a lot, grown a lot, and been dealing with some really serious things that have scarred me in life.

I still bounce between loving and hating our home. I love it because I really do like the house, we got a good deal, it meets our needs, its mostly perfect, and I like where it is. I like it for all of the plans we have, the fun times that will come, and the memories we have (and have yet to make).

But I hate it too. I hate it because it is the location where the greatest betrayal of my life happened. Over and over. I hate the recliner in the living room, our bed, our office, and the bathrooms the most based on the info I’ve gotten over the year. I hate that because of the money issues, I can’t demand that we move, or get new furniture, or totally gut and overhaul those rooms. No, I get to wake up in my bed, next to the exact place he gave himself to someone else. Walk to the bathroom where they “snuck” pics, go down to the living room to stare at the chair he spent his mornings with her in, and generally try to heal myself in the middle of of this place.

Which is still a place I love (see above). Its strange and hard. Some days I do great, some days I get by, and some days I fail. I can’t always tell which kind of day I’ll have when I wake up each morning, but I keep going and trying.

We have handled all of this as the two of us. We had an overnight sitter last summer and a couple of date nights in the fall from relatives who know the situation. No where near as much help as I’d hoped for, but luckily we have a kid who is old enough to babysit siblings occasionally for short bursts so we’re making it work. Mostly on our own.

Yes, our money is tighter – but we haven’t needed a penny from anyone. We’ve saved, found deals, made cuts, and plain gotten creative but we’re getting through this on our own. Most people wouldn’t even know that anything has changed. Our kids don’t know anything has changed.

The one thing we’ve been clear on? We need someone to take the kids for the weekend of D-Day. I don’t want to be in that house. I might be ok, or I might not be. I’m not putting pressure on myself to be any specific way. I want to be away from it. So if its a good day, it’ll be a good day and if its not a good day, at least I can curl up away from the reminders for a day. Made it clear when booking a sitter how important this was….only to be told yesterday they are backing out of half the weekend. To go watch their other grandkids instead. Sorry.

So, we do all of this on our own. We get through being treated coldly and our pain ignored on our own. We don’t ask for money or really any more help than we’ve gotten before….but the one time we really need them, they back out. Last minute. I’ll find someone for the part they’re skipping, but that’s not what has me upset.

WE are second choice. WE are being pushed aside for someone else’s needs. Because THEY somehow rank higher than us? They aren’t living each day in crisis mode – they’re just poor planners but the world stops for them. And THOSE grandkids now trump ours? My child is being told that her grandparents will not be hanging out with her half of that weekend because they chose to go hang out with her cousins instead. After already promising to hang out with her. So, now the exact thing I never wanted my kids to EVER FEEL is happening. And not from the people I ever thought it would.

My children are second best and being overtly shown it.
We are second best and being overtly shown it.
And it has thrown me right back down in a spiral of shame, unworthiness, and self loathing. I am trying to keep my head above water. I SEE the storm, I SEE the tricks…but its hard.

I woke up this morning feeling fatter than ever, and the scale confirmed it wasn’t just in my head. I have had no energy/drive to do my hair or make up. I look a mess. No wonder I’m so optional. There’s never anything that makes me someone of note. Someone who matters. Someone worth the effort. And I want to get mad but honestly, I think a lot of it is my fault.

I don’t want him looking or talking to other girls but I can’t put forth any effort? I wish he would get right back on his sites tonight. I deserve it. So does he. No one should keep having to come home to a dumpy train wreck.

I ask for help but always find ways to fix things when people backout. People know this. Competency isn’t doing be any favors. I thought being strong and independent was a good thing, but apparently it just makes you a target for being pushed aside. I make it ok to choose other people, by being ok at doing things myself. I don’t know how to change that. Let things fall apart? Let it all go?

I make no secret of my depression and ability to barely function – but no one steps in to help. No one asks what they can do. They’ll worry and drop everything if you’ve got the flu and are out of commission for a few days, but depression? Nah. No one wants to interact with that. No one wants to help clean, drive your kids, cook you a meal, or just give you the day off. Your illness makes them uncomfortable – so again, I’m the problem.

I don’t know the last time the floors were cleaned at our house. The bathrooms *might* get cleaned monthly. I don’t even know where the vacuum is right now. Maybe in the upstairs closet? Everyone else gets their laundry folded and put away – but me? I can’t. Its in a pile on the floor in front of the dresser. So I can slide out of bed in the mornings, crawl to it, pull out a few things, and start my day without needed to bother wasting my little energy on standing up.

And I’m trying. I was doing good. I was feeling stronger. Wiser. Braver. I really thought maybe I’d turned the corner. I was wrong. Its all still here. I’m just working on getting it under control.

Perspectives

A professor stood in front of the class holding up a book with a battered, thick, black cover and spine with golden words inscribed upon it. He asked his class to look the book for thirty seconds in silence. To really examine what they saw, to come up with their best description of every aspect of the book. Then once the time had passed he asked the students to tell him what they saw.

“It’s black.” The professor looked quizzically at the student before telling him he was wrong.
“Its old,” another student offered before being told his answer was wrong too.
“It’s thick, it’s tall, it has four words on it, it has gold on it….” the answers were pouring in and the professor stood in the front of the room shaking his head disapprovingly. He was shocked that not a single person in the room could see what was so obvious.

The students thought for sure their professor had lost his mind, since they could all clearly see the book and its appearance. Their answers started to shift to questions about the topic. They wondered if he knew a different name for the color black, if he was color blind, if he knew how to count the words, and started to question the purpose of the question since he was obviously disagreeing with them for no reason. Some students grew frustrated at the question, unable to find the right answer to please their teacher while others were growing upset with his stance.

“The book is clearly red. With thirty words in a black print on it it. It’s in excellent shape. In fact, I wonder if it’s ever been taken from this room. There’s not a scuff, scratch or mark on it. Its nearly perfect and beautiful,” the professor shared earnestly with his students, attempting to use his description to help them see the book for themselves.

This was more than most could take. Their tempers grew thin, there was clearly some sort of mistake. Perhaps he was confused about what book he was holding; he was rather old. Perhaps he was losing his vision; his glasses were rather thick. Perhaps he was just an ornery man; no professor ever likes being wrong in class. The students were firmly planted in their opinion that the professor was wrong and he was determined that they were – until he lowered the book to look at the cover for himself.

When he turned the cover to face himself he saw a battered, thick cover and cover and spine with golden words inscribed upon it and a look of understanding spread across his face. The students gasped quietly as they viewed the other side of the book with its pristine red backing with thirty words printed in neat black letters on it. It looked fresh from the book store with a soft shine of luster in the classroom lighting.

“So it was black. And red,” the professor’s sly grin spread on his face as his students cheeks reddened  with the discovery of the lesson, “Neither of us was wrong. Our debate was for naught. It was all a matter of perspective.”

When I first heard that story, I rolled my eyes at the obvious and overt lesson that comes from it. There really are two sides to every story, but many people – myself included – take the time to ever pause and ask questions or investigate to see things from another perspective. If one student had asked him to turn the book around when they were asked to really look at it, the entire debate and all the frustration would have been avoided. If one person asked one question and tried to see it from every angle instead of just their comfortable angle, conflict could have been avoided.

I think it’s pretty clear that in life, love, and definitely marriage this lesson applies.

I knew something was “off” starting around Thanksgiving of 2017 in our lives. We were not on the same page but instead of taking a minute to ask some questions or even think about how my husband was feeling, I pulled away. If he didn’t like me, then why should I bother? I knew he was looking at porn from time to time – but again, if he didn’t want me then at least he wasn’t “using” me for sex. He could get his jollies and leave me be. I was tired, hurt, and overwhelmed with so many other things that I never thought about how it looked from his side.

Before I go any further and trigger anything hurtful for myself or anyone else, please read my disclaimer: I still do not accept responsibility for or condone his actions – but I am working to understand where he was coming from in making his poor decisions. They didn’t come out of nowhere. Even poor choices are based in someone’s perspective on a situation.

I pull away when I am scared. When I am stressed or I feel like things around me are crumbling, I pull into myself to think and plan. I rely on me to fix things and no one else. This likely stems from the first half of my life when I had very few people to rely on. My father walked out, my mother was a functional alcoholic, I had limited contact with my extended family, and just one younger sister to lean on. I was close with my grandmother, but she worried if I shared too much and I didn’t want to burden her, I became my own best friend, confident, protector, and problem solver.

There are definitely good points there, you always have your number one fan with you! You get to know yourself really well. You get confident in your own abilities after relying so heavily on yourself. But, you also build walls and become very private. Especially in moments of worry and crisis. From where I was standing, I was doing the right thing by not prying and my sticking to myself – I was protecting me and solving problems without upsetting anyone else. No one was bothered or burdened, or hurt, because no one else was involved. I was doing what I always do. I thought I was doing great. I saw the red cover and thought it was great while I held out the book to him.

He had a wife who didn’t talk to him. Who didn’t initiate anything. Who didn’t reach out to help him when it seemed like he was struggling or act interested in what he had going on. He had a wife who was walking away from him and doing nothing to address any concerns she had. She seemed to not care. Again, no excuse for straying. No excuse for the financial expenses – but if it seems like someone is giving up on you, it seems reasonable to me that you start to feel lost, hopeless, and like you have nothing to lose. You see a beat up black cover and spine with gold writing on it from that side. It’s not pretty.

I’m not coming today from a place of excuses or victim blaming. I am coming from a place of deeply desiring to see both sides. To understand that while I am hurt and hurting, so is he. Yes, his role in creating this is obvious and large, but there are things that I have done that definitely didn’t help matters (again, please understand I am not taking blame! Just trying to understand and learn).

“We are products of our past. But we don’t have to be prisoners of it.” – Rick Warren

We can look back and see where we’ve come from, good or bad. We can acknowledge our roles in situations without accepting responsibility. We can study our actions of the past and the outcomes, but that is not the end of our stories, friends. We are never too far lost or too far gone or too hurt or too alone or too sad to come back. To learn and grow do better.

To make our future better because of our difficult pasts.

I’m working through my Lent promise of giving up anger and hate. I’m actively working toward forgiveness and peace. Not just the act of saying I forgive someone and feel at peace, but actually feeling and living it into my bones and soul. Being the person I have always wanted to be, regardless of my past.

It is hard. It is scary. Some days it is nearly impossible. But thankfully, there is always another to try again. Eventually, it will stick. Promise. I urge you to join me in this effort, to find freedom and peace in your life. Whether your peace comes from accepting things and walking away or staying in your life and rebuilding from here. I’m here to cheer you on and help you on your way.

Change your perspective and you’ll change your. I believe it and I’m doing my best to live it.

Lent

I never used to spend more than 32 seconds deciding on what I would give up for Lent each year. My sacrifices over the years included the typical answers of chocolate, soda, junk food, my favorite show, and even giving up giving up things for Lent a few years. I knew that part of Lent was letting go of something important to us so we could would along Jesus’ journey for 40 days leading up to Easter. Granted, none of mine were anywhere near what He gave up, but I felt they were things that would be difficult for me to live without. That was it though. I gave them up, didn’t think much about why, showed up on Easter Sunday, then went home to start enjoying my missed pleasure again. As if nothing happened.

I never stopped to think about why we really do it. Yes, its a way to “feel” the sacrifice but I think deep down its even more. Its a time when we can focus on doing away with things to bring us closer to God. Hopefully, at the end of 40 days not only are we grateful for Jesus’ sacrifice (which we will never be able to “match”) but we should be left feeling closer to God. We should be better versions of ourselves. We should strive to not backslide over the next year and build upon this every Lent.

Last year, was the first time I ever really though about Lent in this way. Last year, I gave up one hour of sleep per day to allow me to follow a Lent devotional and dig deeper into the story that I really only knew in a very basic sense. I had no idea why that idea came to my head at that time, out of all the years of my life, but now I feel like it was all part of the plan for this season of my life. God knew major news was coming my way. He knew that evil was working its way into my marriage and life. He knew it was time to pull me closer to give me the extra strength I needed to work through this.

I did it. For 40 days. I came out feeling more in tune with myself than I had really thought possible. I felt inspired to be a better person. To go through hard times, to forgive, and to remember that even the darkest days will have amazing endings as long as I keep my faith and love going. So when the news of my husband’s affair and our financial mess came to light – I was as ready as one really can be in a situation such as this.

I threw up. I gathered facts. I cried. I loved. I forgave. Luke 23:24, which was so recently on my mind, flashed over and over as I looked at my broken husband in front of me “Jesus said ‘Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing.” and a calming peace came over me, even though I knew I was in the middle of a very dark storm. The next day, I called my minister and we talked. We prayed. I read. I prayed. And within a few days we had the start of a plan to get us through this time of darkness.

My friends, we are on our way to our own kind of resurrection at my house. There are no tombs, no angels appearing, no crowds looking on…but what was broken and thought to bed dead is not. Its being forgiven and a new life is entering our marriage. It is not the same as before, no matter how much I have tried over the last 11 months to make that happen. It is richer, fuller, deeper, and more meaningful than ever before. Its full of sacrifices, forgiveness, love, and redemption. If that’s not getting the most out of our Lent practice, I don’t know what is. I am a better person this year at this time than I was a year ago. I think we both are.

This left me worrying about this year. How does one top a journey like we’ve been on? How do you go on from there and add onto it? Again, I spent a lot of time thinking about where I am and what I can do to grow from where I am in Lent. I want to let go of things that do not serve me and do not bring me closer to God. Once again, Luke 23:24 came to the front of my mind.

I am still carrying a lot anger and hate toward “her”. I spent the last year sharing and working through the anger and hate I had toward my husband. There were days I thought we’d never actually make it through. Some days, a little fear still creeps in to that affect, but when I look back on how far we’ve come I can put it to rest. I touched on “her” on and off through my journey (see my post “She is Jealous” for more https://thepatientandkind.wordpress.com/2018/11/03/she-is-jealous/), but as the winter wore on this effort fell to the wayside. I stopped working to let go of the anger I have toward her and I let it run wild. I let it start building back up while I only dealt with the feelings I had toward my husband.

This year for Lent, I decided to give up hating and being angry with her. Or at least trying to. I am pretty sure this will take me longer than 40 days. I am also pretty sure that once I can do this, I will feel much better about my entire situation. I want to forgive for myself. To be clear, forgiving and exonerating are two different things. I forgive my husband, I do not exonerate him here nor will I exonerate her. However, I will no longer let feelings of rage, anger, or hate, rule my mind and tarnish my heart.

I am asking for prayers as I go forward for strength and faith to get me there. And grace on the days I stumble along the way. I am not perfect. But I am holding strong to this belief and working hard to be the kind of person I know I am supposed to be. Kinder, wiser, and closer to God than ever before.

I’m not one to be admired.

I’ve been holding back a lot. Trying to take the high road. Trying to move forward. Trying to forgive….and for the most part I’ve been pretty successful. But today? Today I don’t care.

I don’t care if what I say causes backlash. I don’t care if people unfollow me or stop reading. I don’t care if people are offended or put off. I don’t live my life for anyone but me. I don’t write this blog, share to Instagram, or do anything for anyone else. I do it for me. And I hope that it honors God and He sees I’m trying.

But I’m also very human. And I hurt and I’m mad and its not fair and I want revenge and I want justice and I want my life back and I want a future back and I want to find a way to make all of the awful feelings that are swirling around me to go away.

I am praying. Constantly. I don’t even say amen anymore. We’re pretty much locked into an ongoing neverending conversation of prayer, me and God. I am reading books. I am taking “me” time. I am practicing self care like a crazy lady.

Yoga, mindfulness, medication, CBD, support groups, therapy, church, counsel with pastors….I am doing it all. My husband right next to me. And many days I feel great. But sometimes, I do not. Today, is one of those days. I can let it fester or I can let it out. I don’t care what your opinion is…today, I choose to let it out.

I chose to share her picture with the world. To show people exactly what the devil looks like. Not so people will attack her, not so people can go vigilante, but so people can see exactly what evil looks like. To be aware. To protect themselves. Because I wish more than anything that there could have been some way to warn my husband or myself of the kind of con-artist she is. He still has lots to be making amends for, please don’t ignore his role here, but he wasn’t just some poor sap either. He was targeted. By a professional. And I PROMISE YOU he wasn’t the first (I’ve found other victims of this person sharing stories online). So I can only hope that others will avoid this scheme or she will FINALLY hit rock bottom.

I am thankful to have gotten info about the IRS and how to report people who are making money they aren’t reporting taxes on. I’ve prayed and talked to many a pastor about it. Justice is important. I have nothing to gain from this. They won’t send me the money (oh…how nice that would be….) but the justice system will do what they need to here. And she will have to face Him at a later date. Not because I am a bitter, hateful person, but because there are consequences to every single action. Especially immoral and sinful ones.

Which is ironic since I’m really the one paying the highest price. The person who had NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. All I want to do, is walk away and start over. But I can’t. Because guess who needs to keep their paycheck coming in now that his is garnished heavily to repay all the money spent taking care of her.

I am stuck in this house – because he chose to take care of her.
I am stick in this job – because he chose to take care of her.
I am stuck with little future for many years – because he chose to take care of her.

Many days, I struggled to find a reason to get up and go to work. Imagine for one minute that you’re locked into the most twisted version of Bill Murray’s “Groundhog Day” ever. Get up, work hard for a life and things you don’t want, so you can help your husband repay the debts of taking care of another woman.

If you think I am magically good or healed or have some secret recipe for healing, I do not. I am so flawed. For every breakthrough I make, there are 30 mistakes I make along the way. I’m fumbling through this darkness. I don’t have all the answers or perfect directions or an amazing hard or some sort of a crazy ability to be some beautiful blend of forgiveness, love, kindness, and strength.

I don’t.
I’m not.

I’m just a middle aged woman, fumbling through a life that still doesn’t feel like its her own. Who can’t find a way out. Who can’t find a fast enough way to heal. to move on. To get back to where she was in some form.

I’m rambling. But I’m hurting.

Choices

I didn’t have much to share lately, sorry for my absence. I don’t want to be the kind of person who just talks without something to say though. Every day has its worries and little struggles, but I don’t need to give them my time or energy every time they bubble up. That’s giving the feelings power over me. The situation power over me. I am not letting that happen.

 

 

But this weekend, for reasons I cannot figure out, I’m haunted by feeling that I am not enough. That I am not pretty enough, thin enough, sexy enough, interesting enough….I’m just an average middle-aged women trying to go to work, keep the house clean (spoiler alert: I’m failing), and raise some kids. No amount of positive self talk, inspirational quotes, or girl power books seems capable of shaking this from me.

 

The more I talk to others and think about things though, the more I start to realize its not just me. I am sure that I am not the only woman who struggles with feeling this way from time to time. And I am certainly not the only woman who has been through infidelity and all the collateral damage who feels this way. I have really been struggling with this.

 

Why am I letting circumstances I had no control of and people who do not know me to dictate how I should feel about myself. Who am I competing with? Where am I getting these ideas of who I should be and where am I getting the idea that I am not measuring up? I think I’ve fallen victim to a social media pinterest world.

 

You know the one – where women should be tight, toned, sex-goddesses with perfect hair, makeup, manicures, and outfits at all times. Who needs to know exactly what to do in and out of the bedroom to drive her man crazy and keep him begging for more. Who needs to make healthy yet amazing dinners from scratch every night after working a successful, high paying career all day. But not quite all day, since we also need to be home to make sensory baskets, craft projects, hand sew outfits, and have our 2 year olds reading Faulkner novels in their perfectly coordinated outfits while behaving as saints each day. Don’t forget the house too! We need more mason jars and exposed shiplap!

 

Tell me I just described more than my own Pinterst boards? And don’t worry, if I can’t find enough to measure up to there, Facebook is a great highlight reel for me to automatically assume that everyone else is really put together and actually pulling off this line I keep bookmarking – while I have gained 5 pounds, can’t seem to ditch pimples, and haven’t seen my curling iron since Obama’s first term.

 

These feelings have been circling around me for a long time. Much less than before, but now its like I’m on a raft that seems pretty safe but these sharks are circling. I am ok now, but I can see the danger and I am aware its waiting for me. I need to find a way out of this situation or get ready to be overcome the moment the slightest movement causes even a tiny crack in my raft. I am not ok for the long term.

 

I have been reading a lot and found some very interesting stuff (I want to finish an amazing book before I share here, but its coming!!) but in it all, I also found this verse that I am trying to cling onto more each day:

“Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect” – Romans 12:2

If that doesn’t make you stop for a minute and think about what you’re doing in life, I don’t know what will. I have been spending my time comparing myself to an immoral, lying, thieving, adulterous woman. I was getting caught up in her beauty and the “perfect life” she spins online – all of the behaviors and customs that society has led me to think are important or valuable.

 

Am I seriously beating myself up because I don’t have a body worthy of displaying online and sharing sexual encounters with strangers for money? Am I seriously feeling like a failure as a wife and mother because I cannot do disgusting things for strangers away from my husband to “support” us? When I strip away the tanned, toned body, gorgeous hair, and lack of any visible body hair or blemishes – that is exactly what I am holding myself hostage to.

None of that is good. Why would I want to be a liar? Why would I want to be a size 0 if it meant I had to be an adulterer? Why would I want to do immoral things just so I could avoid having to go to work? Why do I feel like my husband is really missing out by not having someone who spends hours pampering herself and getting ready for other men, and also him? The facade of this beauty is dangerous.

 

I have been trying hard to look deeper. A pant size does not make someone beautiful, it just means they buy smaller pants. A beautiful person smiles a true smile of happiness with their life and doesn’t have a vacant look in their eyes while trying to lure other people’s loves astray. A desirable woman isn’t one that everyone wants and gets as long as their checks clear her bank. A desirable woman is someone who is loyal, loves her man, and values her body as something that is actually special, not just something for sale like a cheap garage sale trinket.

 

Who we are supposed to be in life has nothing to do with how we look or how many people “want” us. Look through the entire Bible, no where does it say that the key to happiness is hotness. No where does it say that was must be thin. Or blonde. Or sexy. Or how we should dress or how often we should work out or how quickly we need our kids to be wildly successful. None of that makes us who we are. None of that makes us good or bad or better or worse than anyone else. Yet, here we are getting caught up in it over and over, letting it steer our lives. No wonder its a struggle, we’re following the wrong map, worried about the wrong things, and trying to please the wrong people.

 

This is where the choice of our lives comes into play. Do we keep living for them? For keeping up (or being better than) “her”? For becoming the woman of his dreams so he isn’t even slightly tempted to ever glance at anyone else, let alone act on it again? Do we keep tearing ourselves down to the ground to prove to “her” and anyone else that we aren’t as pathetic and stupid as we feel? We can totally do that. In fact, I am completely guilty of doing that (some days more than others). Its turning into a cycle.

 

The other choice is to focus on who we are supposed to be. Loving, forgiving, kind people who strive for peace, justice, and staying true to ourselves and our God. I know, easier said that done at first glance, but what if we started looking for ways to be kind instead of spending time in front of the mirror assessing all the lumpy areas we need to address? What if we focus on doing things that are good for our souls, bring us closer to God, and help us to share that love with others instead of spending hours trying to figure out exactly what “wavy beach hair” is and how to get it? If we focus more on actually BEING better people instead of focusing so intently on LOOKING like better people? What would life feel like then?

 

It wouldn’t be without pain. No life is.We just need to focus on finding our happiness from the right places. From our heart, from goodness, from love, from support, from forgiveness, and not from a single human being on Earth. Our happiness comes from doing the things God lays out and listening to his ideas, not anything found on social media or in this world.

 

“No matter what’s happened to you or what you may have done in your past, there’s hope and there’s an answer! So don’t settle for a life in bondage; have the courage to face your issues. Your freedom is worth it!” – Galatians 5:1

Our Story

I’ve been asked many times over the last few weeks here, in email, or on IG what “my story” is. What my struggles are. Looking back to the start of this blog, its kind of a jumbled mess. But, that’s where I was at that time so its really not surprising. Today, I had some free time and decided to organize “our story” a bit better for everyone (me included). I’ve updated the My Story section of my blog with it also, for future reference, but wanted to share here for those that have been here with me. Thank you all for that.

I spent over 10 years living a happy life with my best friend, nearly 9 as his wife. We had a lot of crap go down in that decade: job losses, money struggles, 5 moves, school issues with our kids, and the normal day-to-day stresses. But never an issue with us. Ever. We were that annoying couple that seems to hit it off from their first date. The kind of couple that single me hated, until I was part of one – then I appreciated every second of it.

I had no idea he had a secret addiction. No idea that it had taken a turn for the worse and no idea that another woman had managed to destroy what it took us a decade to achieve in only a few months. To say I was blindsided by his confession and the fallout that came from it would be a huge understatement.

“D-Day” for me came in April of 2018. I’d sensed some things were off for months but thought it was just stress from my husband’s job taking its toll on him. Until I came into the living room on that Sunday evening and saw him lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, hugging one of the throw pillows from the couch. I always hated those pillows, they just came with the couch and I never bothered to replace them. I really hate the look of them now.

He took a deep breath, covered his eyes with the heel of his hands and uttered out “We’re in money trouble. I lent out a large sum of money to a friend and it was supposed to be paid back but its not going to be.” My heart sank hearing this. My husband is one of the most frugal and money smart people I know. I’m the reckless one. I also couldn’t fathom how much he would agreed to lend or think which friend would have put us in this boat.

His answers shattered me – the amount was somewhere around $50K and it wasn’t a “friend” I knew. It was a porn site webcam model he’d been having a Snapchat/Skype affair with for a few months. I didn’t know what to do or say. I walked to the bathroom and threw up everything that was in me. I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to rinse the vile taste out of mouth, and noticed the paleness setting into my skin. With shaking hands I texted my boss that I had an emergency and wouldn’t be reachable until Tuesday. I knew I couldn’t go to work.

The details of our story are not completely important to the story. Besides, there are so many of them, some big, some small, that it would be nearly impossible for me to put them into any sort of easy to follow order. But over the course of the next few hours, bits started to trickle out. The lies she told to get the money, the video/chat “perks” he was getting, the secret credit cards he had taken out to try and keep us afloat. I was at a loss and felt shook to my core. How could the man I love, trusted, and knew so well be telling me he did all these things? Looking at him, I just saw my husband. My best friend and love of my life. What he was telling me didn’t match up with what I knew and saw.

Before bed that night, I squeezed him tight and told him, I’m forgiving you. We’ll fix this. We’ll figure it out. Out of that whole night it might have been the best part. The part with the least confusion or regret linked to it. Even though I was totally terrified and confused on how we got there or how we’d get out of there.

I laid next to him that night, awake most of the night, unable to sleep. The next morning, he went to work and I went to work at our dining room table. I had accounts to deactivate, passwords to change, numbers to pull, budgets to work on, prayers to pray, and people to call. That’s who I am. The kind of person you really want on your side in crisis. I’ll gather info, pour over it, work out as many solutions as I can, bring in experts, and not let up.

By the time he came home, I was down to two options. He could file for bankruptcy alone (thankfully the loans/credit cards were all in his name so we could keep the house and car since my name was on them). We’d be stuck on a tight budget and need to watch our spending for a few years but could get through this, fix us, and hopefully be better than ever.

The second option, the one I didn’t want, was that we divorce. Sell the house, split the proceeds. I have a good career, good credit, and I’d have a down payment. I could get something good for the kids and I. He could live with his parents, we would take time to figure ourselves out – and maybe down the road try again. I didn’t want that for so many reasons. I didn’t want to hurt the kids, I didn’t want the public shame, I didn’t want the hurt of not having him by my side.

We talked with our pastor, a social worker at our church, our lawyer, and a bankruptcy lawyer before deciding that option one was what we wanted. We’d been through much before together, we’re committed, and both want the outcome to be better than we were before. Since the initial “D-Day” confessions, we have realized with the help of our therapists that he has a pornography addiction, my depressions was raging in full force, and we were struggling more than either of us realized.

This is our story of hope, recovering, and healing to (hopefully) help others dealing with their story too.

The Anger Returns

There isn’t one single event that I can pinpoint that has brought the anger back into my life, I think its just a lot of little things paired with this time of the year. I hope that’s it, just so I know it will likely pass sooner rather than later. I know it will pass eventually – all bad things do (and good too…) but I’m running low on energy to keep hanging on right now.

We have two children with multiple emotional issues. I think I’ve mentioned this before. Our days are dictated by O.D.D., A.D.D., and anxiety disorders. Any moment can go from good to a meltdown of epic proportions in the blink of an eye. And, if it happens in public, the judgmental stares or those around us are almost more than I can take.

The 24 hours have consisted of one huge meltdown from each kid. Last night, we spent half an hour dealing with a flailing, screaming, crying, punching, kicking kid. I can’t even tell you fully what set her off, other than the fact that we were going to Store A for something when she felt we should be going to Store B. Nothing like being assaulted by a child you love with all your soul and cannot seem to help.

This morning? The other one started in. He wasn’t going to school today, according to him. He was not ill and had no valid reason. He sat there on the floor screaming and crying. He was nearly an hour late for school, I was 30 minutes late to work. Because there’s no better way to start the week that a verbal abuse and looking like a complete parenting failure to both the school and my employer.

My job is a joke. I hate it. I used to like it. But I’m tired of working around the clock. I’m tired of watching less qualified people move ahead. I’m tired of completely unqualified people being hired and quickly becoming my chore to “help them improve”. I am not sure where the idea of letting someone go when they can’t do the job went…but we apparently don’t do that here.

At home, the house is too big and too full of things we don’t need or use. And why am I working so hard for a house and things, if I’m so miserable all day and don’t have time to enjoy them? It’s literally NOT making sense. Why do we work ourselves to death to create a “great life” that we’re too busy, tired, and frustrated to even enjoy? This is literally the stupidest thing ever.

And like a freight train of awfulness, “she” is back in my mind fiercely. The comparison of last year to this just can’t leave me. The opportunities and choices that I cannot take advantage of because “she” is a home-wrecking whore and he gave into his weaknesses of her temptation. Just when I think I’m too an acceptable place with this (I struggle to say “good”) it creeps back in. This voice that reminds over and over: I wasn’t enough. He had to go looking. I wasn’t enough to stop him from saying yes to her wants – even when I meant I got less. I wasn’t enough for him to protect from her outrageous requests. Telling me no for things that were a few hundred dollars was easy for years. Years and years. Ruining our future for her after just TWO MONTHS “together” – not a problem. And now I’m left here.

I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to look at the house I am trapped in because we cannot do anything with it because he gave our life to her. I don’t want to go home to deal with children that I am not mother enough to help. I don’t want to sit at this job and keep working in a place where I am never enough and never advanced. I don’t want to continue working myself for to death for all these things I am do not want, cannot enjoy, and am not enough for.

I know there are ups and downs in this “process” or whatever the F you want to call it. I know, I need to keep my faith. And trust me when I say I am trying. I am trying with every last little bit of hope and strength I have left in my being. But I also spend many days crying. Like now. And its getting to be too much.

I want to ruin her life. I want to take out an ad in her local paper with screen shots of what she does. I want to send dvds of her videos to her parents, her friends, and her in laws. I want to show them that their loved one is a prostitute. Who knowingly ruined our lives and doesn’t even feel bad about it. Isn’t even trying to pay us back and of course lies that it was a gift, so there’s nothing we can do. Aside from letting the IRS know so they can check and make sure she reports that. Which I have done. But its not enough. I want her miserable. I want her going without. I want a $5000 Christmas this year while SHE gets $60. I just want some justice and I want things to go in my favor for once.

I’m mad.

You Sin Too.

Sometimes I feel silly for keeping this monumental event in our lives “secret” from so many people. Its an isolating feeling and I don’t think that the loneliness does much for my recovery. I find myself withdrawn from groups and watching the people around me. Wondering, do they have secrets I don’t know about? How can’t they see I’m different now? Would we all be better if we sat down and were vulnerable with our deepest struggles?

Probably. But its not human nature to be vulnerable. I’m not sure that will change.

Sometimes, I regret sharing it with anyone at all. We shared our story with four family members. One of which previously cheated on another habitually for four years. We figured they’d get it, support us, love on us, and forgive – since he’d been forgiven for doing far more and far worse (not that this is a competition). I’m not getting into the specifics, but I don’t feel that happened. I feel like our vulnerability really just left us being judged and moderately eschewed.

Why is that? I know we’re not the only ones in this boat – I’ve talked to many others who feel the same. Feeling this shame and regret when we tried to come clean and get help. Why is that so hard?

I decided to look into adultery more in my Bible. There are plenty of verses discussing adultery and how we shouldn’t do that. There are plenty of verses discussing other sins we shouldn’t do either, but many of us do. I wanted to see what the Bible said about how we should approach adulterers.

I found what I was looking for in John 8 verses 1-11. If you’re not familiar, go check it out, but basically a group of accusers bring an adultering woman to Jesus to ask what should be done with her. They believe they should stone her for this sin, based on their laws.

Jesus listens to what the accusers are saying, but stays quiet. Instead, He bends over and writes in the dust. They keep after Him for answers on what to do and He stands up and tells them in verse 7 “…let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone.” He then returns to the dust and writes again.

I think this is such an important moment for us. For all sin, not just adultery. Jesus knew exactly who He was dealing with when He said these words. He knew that He was the only one who has never sinned. He knew the sins of the men accusing her, along with her sins. He did not condone her behavior, He fully supported a punishment, but He made it clear that only someone without sin should be handling out the punishment. The accusers slipped away one by one until only the woman and Jesus were left.

I wonder what he wrote in the dust. Was it a list of the accusers sins? Or more of hers? Was it a warning to mankind that none of us were without sin? An list of transgressions sentencing all the gathered people to be stoned at that moment? We don’t know, it doesn’t say anywhere what it was. Clearly, whatever it was, when paired with His words, was enough to send the men running.

We don’t serve a God that wants us to attack, judge, and condemn each other. He doesn’t want us to devote our time to worrying about every transgression that every person makes. Its not up to use to demand to be the judges for every single sin someone makes. We serve a God who wants us to live for Him and to focus on bringing our lives to Him, while loving each other.

Obviously, murderers and some crimes require intervention for our safety and justice. But, should every single mistake we make be treated the same? Every time we are envious, gluttonous, or tell a lie – should we be tried as severely as a public stoning?

Jesus sent them on their way because He knew she did not need the public shame or stoning. She needed to come to Him, hear His words, receive forgiveness, and fix her life to life according to His word. He loved her and supported her, just as we should love and support those trying to redeem themselves today.

Jesus did not absolve her of all guilt or tell her it was no big deal. He was very clear with her in verses 10 and 11:

“…’Where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?’ ‘No Lord,’ she said.
‘Neither do I. Go and sin no more.”

Jesus doesn’t hide the fact that she sinned. He said “sin no more” not “if you really did it…” because He knows! He knows the truth of her sins and ours. As the only sin free person He was the only one who could have thrown a stone at her according to man’s law. But he didn’t.

He said he wouldn’t condemn her. He only wants her to STOP her sin. He holds no grudge. There are no caveats or strings attached to His love. He won’t hold it against her, He only wants her to stop. He only wants us all to stop. That is His order.

At the end of the day, sin is sin. It is not our place to say someone else’s sins are worse than ours. We have ALL sinned. But if we admit to Jesus, owning our actions and working to redeem ourselves, He forgives us. He knows we are not perfect, that’s not our job. He wants us to learn and grow closer to Him in love. And to give the same to those around us.

I have lied. I have stolen. I have been envious. I have been gluttonous. I have been lustful. I’ve used God’s name in vain. I have gone against God’s word. I have been forgiven by God and strive to live in a similar manner. It is not easy. It takes consistent, constant, conscious effort but it is also how I would hope others would treat me if my sins were put on display for the world to see.

Sin is inevitable. Coming forward is brave. Asking for forgiveness is a vulnerable act that should never be seen as anything less. It certainly shouldn’t be judged or scorned. Anyone walking away from sin and doing the work to redeem themselves with those around them should be embraced and loved for that.

And those who choose to continue the sin? To walk away from those willing to help them? They should prayed for. We don’t have to agree with what they’re doing, but its still not our place to try and destroy them. Its not up to us to judge them and shame them to the world while hiding our own sins. Our focus should be on living in God’s way and our own journey. He will handle everyone else.