Infidelity Trax: Welcome to Wherever You Are

I’ve been silent for a long time on here. It’s not 100% neglect. It’s not avoidance – at all. Life moves at a pace that it’s often hard to find time for reflection and then capturing those reflections on a page.

I’ve been in a podcast phase again and I recently heard a completely [unrelated to this blog] podcast about finding yourself in a historical event that you did not intend to be a part of or foresee as being a defining moment in their life. Yet, here they were.

Infidelity is like that. It felt like I woke up one day and was dropped into a new reality. A reality that I wasn’t prepared for and I just wanted to find a way out. I just wanted to rewind my life and get a do-over. The problem is that I didn’t know how far to rewind. And when I realized I couldn’t change the past, I wanted to press fast-forward and skip ahead to the future. I was assured by every book I read that the first two years are the most difficult and if we put in the work then we would be fine. Then two years came and went, and I was better but I didn’t feel like the books told me I would. I set my sights on five years – that’s got to be enough time for me to heal and move on, I thought. Perhaps, you can’t set a timer for healing. Perhaps, these wounds cut me too deep. Perhaps, I need to just let go of the anxiety and emotions attached to the affair. But is that even possible? Or right?

The problem with affairs is that you wake up to find your spouse/partner has been cheating on you. I realize that our “first” marriage ended during his affair – not upon my discovery of the affair. For my husband, our marriage changed (died/ended?) upon his decision to be involved, emotionally and physically, with his affair partner. Which means my marriage died without me even being told or invited to the funeral. I was living in a marriage for just over a year that wasn’t really there anymore.

So much of that first year was the shocking reality and pain that I felt from my husband’s affair. In those moments we were going through everything together and while I was angered and hurt by him keeping secrets from me for over a year, I didn’t realize that he already mourned the death of our marriage. He already moved past that, perhaps he truly mourned it, or perhaps he accepted it and moved into a new phase, the infidelity phase. It’s strange to think that my marriage was dead and I didn’t even know it. I was living in it, frustrated by it, celebrating it, and believing in it, but it was gone. It’s kinda like Santa Claus and I was the child believing in something that wasn’t real. Maybe that’s not a good example but you get it.

Marriages might never really be what we believe they are. We may never really understand how we arrived where we are now. It’s hard at times to believe that here in this moment is exactly where I’m supposed to be… but perhaps it is.

Lyrics 

Maybe we’re all different but we’re still the same
We all got the blood of Eden running through our veins
I know sometimes it’s hard for you to see
You’re caught between just who you are and who you want to be

If you feel alone and lost and need a friend
Remember every new beginning is some beginning’s end

Welcome to wherever you are
This is your life, you made it this far
Welcome, you got to believe
That right here, right now
You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be
Welcome to wherever you are

When everybody’s in and you’re left out
And you feel you’re drowning in the shadow of a doubt
Everyone’s a miracle in their own way
Just listen to yourself, not what other people say

When it’s seems you’re lost, alone and feeling down
Remember everybody’s different, just take a look around

Welcome to wherever you are
This is your life, you made it this far
Welcome, you got to believe
Right here, right now
You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be

Be who you want to be
Be who you are
Everyone’s a hero
Everyone’s a star

When you want to give up and your heart’s about to break
Remember that you’re perfect, God makes no mistakes

Welcome to wherever you are
This is your life, you made it this far
Welcome, you got to believe
Right here, right now
You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be
And I say welcome
I say welcome
Welcome

“I fell apart, and I survived”

We all have days that mark different moments in our lives. Some of those days are remembered for joy and others for devastation. Today is a marker for me.

Six years ago I felt my world implode. I was utterly devastated, confused, and broken when I discovered my husband’s affair. As I type these words, my memory surges and the pain I haven’t felt all day is now lingering in the back of my mind… the back of my throat… like a dark shadow that can flood my being at any moment. But I’m okay. I’m really okay.

Six years later and my emotional attachment to my D-day is no longer a weight. Today could have gone the other direction completely. For starters, the exact day of the week aligns with my D-day in 2012. The other strange piece is that my husband is, once again, away on a camping trip just like he was six years ago. I spent a lot of time alone today just like I did six years ago. But I was okay. I haven’t cried. I haven’t been sad or melancholy.

I worry that an emotional detachment from my D-day is signifying something is wrong. Lately, it feels as though my marriage has slipped into that comfortable place it was before he cheated. Sometimes I worry that I am sharing everything with him – but is he sharing everything with me? I notice how much I talk and how much I feel the need to fill the silence. I also notice how much he doesn’t share with me and that I have to probe to find out what is going on during his day. I try not to be suspicious, but I am. I try to trust, but I don’t think I can give trust completely. I live in this space of uncertainty – can I trust him? Is he faithful? Were there other women before Bat Shit? I try not to dwell in this dark space. I find myself asking if I should even care if there are other women because he’s here with me.

That. Is. Fucked. Up. Or is it my reality?

During the last six years I’ve experienced the most rickety emotional roller coaster ride. Surviving an affair is no small feat. Every day I think about all the women out there that are on this ride with me – whether we know we are on it together or not. I think about how hard that first month was after my D-day. I didn’t know if I wanted to live. I just kept waking up each day and focusing on getting through each day. Survival mode.

I was naive once. I believed love equaled faithfulness. I believed marriage was pure. I believed my husband loved me more than I loved him, which meant he could never hurt me and never, ever cheat. I had chosen him time and again. Now I know he didn’t always chose me.

This post is feeling really glum and I that wasn’t my intention when I opened my laptop and started to write. The reality is that on this day, six years ago in the wee hours of the night… my heart stopped and it’s never truly beat to the same rhythm again.

Yes, I am happy.

Yes, my life is blessed.

But my heart beats differently now.

Here we are, together

I’ve been silent for a long time on here. It’s not 100% neglect. It’s not avoidance – at all. Life moves at a pace that it’s often hard to find time for reflection and then capturing those reflections on a page.

I’ve been in a podcast phase again and I recently heard a completely [unrelated to this blog] podcast about finding yourself in a historical event that you did not intend to be a part of or foresee as being a defining moment in their life. Yet, here they were.

Infidelity is like that. It felt like I woke up one day and was dropped into a new reality. A reality that I wasn’t prepared for and I just wanted to find a way out. I just wanted to rewind my life and get a do-over. The problem is that I didn’t know how far to rewind. And when I realized I couldn’t change the past, I wanted to press fast-forward and skip ahead to the future. I was assured by every book I read that the first two years are the most difficult and if we put in the work then we would be fine. Then two years came and went, and I was better but I didn’t feel like the books told me I would. I set my sights on five years – that’s got to be enough time for me to heal and move on, I thought. Perhaps, you can’t set a timer for healing. Perhaps, these wounds cut me too deep. Perhaps, I need to just let go of the anxiety and emotions attached to the affair. But is that even possible? Or right?

The problem with affairs is that you wake up to find your spouse/partner has been cheating on you. In my case, my husband was involved with his affair partner for over a year before I discovered it. It was only this week that I realized that our “first” marriage ended during his affair – not upon my discovery of the affair. For my husband, our marriage changed (died/ended?) upon his decision to be involved, emotionally and physically, with his affair partner. Which means my marriage died without me even being told or invited to the funeral. I was living in a marriage for just over a year that wasn’t really there anymore.

So much of that first year was the shocking reality and pain that I felt from my husband’s affair. In those moments we were going through everything together and while I was angered and hurt by him keeping secrets from me for over a year, I didn’t realize that he already mourned the death of our marriage. He already moved past that, perhaps he truly mourned it, or perhaps he accepted it and moved into a new phase, the infidelity phase. It’s strange to think that my marriage was dead and I didn’t even know it. I was living in it, frustrated by it, celebrating it, and believing in it, but it was gone. It’s kinda like Santa Claus and I was the child believing in something that wasn’t real. Maybe that’s not a good example but you get it.

Marriages might never really be what we believe they are. We may never really have what we think we do or believe we should. The question I come to ask myself time and again is can I live with this uncertainty without allowing it to become mistrust?

As I am writing this article I Googled “uncertainty synonym” because I wasn’t sure if that was the right word. It turns out antonyms of uncertainty are: happiness, trust, faith, and peace. Ouch.  Maybe uncertainty isn’t the right word because I don’t want to live in a marriage without happiness, trust, faith, and peace; but uncertainty, indefinites, and vagueness seem to be an inevitable result after an affair. All the things I believed were definites are now maybes. The role I once had in our marriage as “the one and only one” has faded and perished. While some of these words seem masked in sadness, I am not sad about this change anymore. I am sad that I ever fell into the mythical notion of ever being someone’s enough. Love just doesn’t work that way.

In the beginning it was hard to accept this gray area that was introduced to my marriage and my belief system. Learning to live without a 100% promise of ever knowing what is real, true, alive/dead is not what I thought my life would be. But I’m not giving up happiness, trust, faith, and peace for a life without guarantees. I’m putting faith and trust that I can be happy and find peace in this life that I’m living.

Love Is Not a Victory March

In the midst of holiday celebrations I felt my imperfections more. As I stood in a darkened church sanctuary on Christmas Eve I stared at the glowing cross and felt the scars of my brokenness. In the stillness of Christmas Eve I felt sadness and pain.

Over the past four weeks I’ve listened to Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah play over my car speakers at the loudest volume possible. I sang the lyrics and wept through the impact of each word. Each lyric echoing through my head and into my soul every single day.

I oscillate between feeling whole and broken, grateful and disappointed, happy and sad. On Christmas Eve, in that moment of absolute peace that overcomes a church sanctuary as everyone raises their candle in celebration, we shouldn’t feel sad or alone or pain. We should let go of all those emotions that keep us tied to the past. I know this yet I still stumble on my path towards grace. In my need and desire to believe that life can go smoothly, I am still living in fear that things will fall apart. Broken trust has crept into my  my minds-eye. This broken trust creeps into my relationships and holds me back. I often live with more fear than joy, and that is a problem. I want to know that a broken hallelujah can still be beautiful, and that coldness is not death or failure. Being alone is not something to fear. Love is appreciating what is.

In my never-ending quest to understand I found this quote from Leonard Cohen about the lyrics that I’m holding onto so tightly:

Hallelujah is a Hebrew word which means ‘Glory to the Lord.’ The song explains that many kinds of Hallelujahs do exist. I say: All the perfect and broken Hallelujahs have an equal value. It’s a desire to affirm my faith in life, not in some formal religious way but with enthusiasm, with emotion.

I have yet to come to terms with my own fallen nature, my brokenness, the cracks that, perhaps, are equally as valuable as my perfections. It’s easy to get caught up in pain, failure, and disappointment but we must surface and rise to appreciate what is. It is impossible to get through this life with your heart and mind undamaged by life, but we can find and feel joy, peace, love, and hope. As 2017 comes to an end, I want 2018 to be filled with balance. An understanding that failure and joy can coexist within.

 

 

5 Years Later

Life keeps moving. Minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day. Five years ago, the life I thought I had was shattered by the discovery of my husband’s affair. His affair flattened me, it buried me, and it changed me.

I am not the same person I was five years ago, nor can I return to the person I was before my D-Day. I’ve accepted that last part even though I am still nostalgic for the old me that trusted, believed, and loved without fear. I’ve learned more about myself and grown into a stronger woman in the past five years. Here are some truths I’ve learned along this journey.

Five years later so much has changed in my life. We sent our oldest child off to college this fall and our younger two boys are in high school. We live busy lives and our children are becoming increasingly independent.  It’s bittersweet to see your children become adults. In the same moment I am feeling love and pride, I am also feeling sad and alone. Love is not always brilliant. Sometimes love means letting go. Sometimes love means change. Relationships exist as waves. We need to learn how to ride them if we want them to grow, expand, and succeed. Sometimes we must simply ride the waves with the people we love, regardless of where they go. Because ultimately, none of these waves last.

There have been many days over the past five years where I felt lost and alone. It’s normal to have these days but I’ve learned it’s important not to fall down into rabbit holes. Being the victim of an affair can make you obsessive compulsive — or at least that has been my experience. I can find myself hyper-focused on an idea, a moment in history, or words that once meant nothing but now have meaning. I’ve learned to push away pain that serves no purpose but I still have moments that creep up on me and doubts that surface. There are days I question every decision I’ve made. I still have days where I crave to touch what is lost. Every so often I have a day that I’ve lost my capacity to trust. Those days are hard because I feel most alone and I am afraid that I’ll never get past it. I wish I could stop myself from feeling or thinking this way.

Five years later I can’t remember what life was like before D-Day. I think I know how it was but I question my memories all the time. Was I really as happy as I say I was? Or did I have plenty of lost and alone days then too? I don’t know. I’ve adjusted to life post-D-Day and all the permanent self-doubt that his affair introduced into my life. Sometimes I held my story so close it became airtight and began to suffocate. I have learned to take a step back and let the air in. I must learn to live with my past before I can live in the present.

Being vulnerable is tough. After my D-Day I built a wall around my heart. It felt like my heart retracted and a steel wall was erected around it. I’ve opened my heart again and it’s scary. I have found that I am more accepting of my own flaws, weaknesses, and to ask for what I need. I have found that when I am genuinely vulnerable that is when I feel most connected. I am gaining strength, love, and courage as I am learning to embrace and expose my vulnerabilities.

Resiliency and acceptance is key to moving forward. Affairs break marriages. Regardless of whether the couple decides to work it out and stay together, the marriage is forever changed. Five years ago, it felt as though my marriage had become a broken promised land. Letting go of what I believed defined my marriage was hard. And I don’t know that I am always moving forward but I must keep going.

Knowing that you can heal allows you to be open to the power of resiliency. I’ve faced my failures, setbacks, and pain with confidence and courage (and sometimes fear and tears too). This journey is hard but it’s not impossible. Affairs don’t have to be a dead end for marriages. It is okay to decide to stay or go. Love is not perfect. It is not always kind, but love can heal.

 

 

The Shadow of Pain

When I was a teenager I babysat for this family. They were perfect. The husband was charming and handsome. He reminded me of one of my old Ken dolls. The wife had the right combination of sweet and assertive characteristics. They had three children that they often dressed alike, which may seem alarming but it was cute in the 80s. I became their regular Saturday night babysitter and sometimes even slept over when they were at social events until late in the night. I admired both the husband and wife because they appeared to have the life I might want someday. They looked after me and I always knew that I could come to them if I ever had a problem or question about life.

The husband passed away from cancer last month. The services were this week and it was hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that he was gone. It’s hard to imagine her without him.

As his wife and I hugged in the funeral home, she told me that it didn’t feel real. She told me she hasn’t been able to eat. Being alone is difficult. She doesn’t want to drive alone because the emotions come flooding in all at once. I understood those feelings and fears. I understand that food just seems so unnecessary when your heart is breaking and your dreams are disappearing. Death of a human is different, but maybe it’s that death of a marriage doesn’t always have to mean the passing away of one spouse. Marriages die every day.

I stood watching the video montage of his life. I stared at the pictures of their life and I wondered if life was as perfect as it had always appeared. I wondered if their marriage was as idealistic. The pictures sure made it look like it was just as wonderful as I believed it was as a young girl.

I’ve always loved video montages. I was a soap opera fan for twenty years and soap operas make the best video montages. Before my wedding day I would play a video in my mind of all the moments that defined our relationship. In true soap opera-style, ours included a few “tragic” moments too but it always ended with the most romantic kiss and always a perfect ending.

The night of my friend’s wake, I wondered what my life’s video montage would look like and if anyone would ever know or see that sadness that has cast a shadow over the last five years. I hate saying that. My husband’s affair still feels like a darkness that fell over our lives. I still have days I struggle to reconcile his actions. They are fewer and further between but I hate that I can’t just put everything in the past. I’m hurt and I’m struggling to let go of the fear. I look at the pictures and moments that make up my life and I wonder how many smiles were genuine, and how many were artificial. How many moments are legitimately true? No lies, no faking it, no dishonesty. In the end, I believe there is so much more happiness than sadness. It’s when the shadow feels heaviest that I need to push it aside and remember to feel and love again.

Marriage always seemed so simple. Once upon a time, I didn’t understand people that said that marriage was complicated or hard work. I thought that meant their marriages were doomed or perhaps they settled for an imperfect mate. I believed my marriage was simple. And in so many ways it is picture perfect. We have a pictured lined hallway that showcases some of my favorite memories from our life. The details from the past eventually become foggy, and all those pictures become the memories I’ve engraved in my mind. I keep hoping with time that the emotions recede and my memory will be filled with the moments captured in the pictures lining my hallway.

I don’t know if all my ramblings tonight make sense. I’m sitting in an airport alone watching busy travelers on their own journeys. These moments will likely not be remembered in the video montage about my life, but they are real. They may not define my life, but they have changed me.

The Cycle of Anger, Hate, and Forgiveness After the Affair

Recently I’ve experienced these surges of anger that take hold of my emotions. It’s almost like a visceral hatred rises out of nowhere and fills my brain. I was sitting on the couch saying good-bye to my husband as he left for work and as I watched him walk out the front door I was angry. But not just angry, I was vexed with idea of him having sex with Bat Shit. As I stared at my husband I was internally infuriated, but on the outside smiling and wishing him a good day at work. He closed the door and it took everything inside of me to breathe out the hatred and let go of the past. Two weeks later, that same feeling swelled inside me as I watched my husband getting ready to go to a meeting.

During the first two years of this blog I regularly received comments from women (some OWs) that pointed out that my anger was misdirected. I was seething with anger for Bat Shit and there was a huge part of me that wanted to prove that she was a horrible woman and my husband was a pawn in her game. While I think that my mindset during that time was essential in order to move forward and continue to care about my husband, I know Bat Shit is not part of my marriage. Her intentions and actions have nothing to do with my husband’s decision to cheat on me.

Is it possible that all of those emotions just caught up to me or is this just a normal part of forgiveness?

During the first few years it felt like it was up to me to forgive my husband. He apologized, showed his love for me, and met me more than halfway. He did everything I needed. He answered every question I asked. He was opening up and bringing me back into his world. I was falling apart and trying to find my balance in a world that seemed more foreign than I ever imagined. Loneliness took over after D-Day and I still have to remind myself not to completely disengage from the world. It’s easier to be sad when you are alone and sometimes I have just wanted to feel the pain.

I just read a quote that said:

Forgiveness is the gift you give yourself.

A few years ago, I might have pinned that quote on my Pinterest board and agreed. Forgiveness has been largely about me needing to make peace within myself and not continuing to fault my husband for his actions. It meant letting go of my hurt. But what if forgiving my husband for his actions is superficial serenity? Obviously, my anger means that I haven’t dealt with something.

Both times I was able to let go of the anger and fill my mind with loving thoughts of my husband. I had to tell myself that I am happy with our life together. I focused on our future and thought about how much I love not just our life but the way he loves me. Maybe angry emotions are normal post-affair but I am not comfortable with them. Even in the beginning, I was uncomfortable hating or being angry at my husband. Is it possible I buried all these emotions so deep that they are now just surfacing? I know anger is a response to my problems. I just need to figure out where those problems are arising from and why am I still angry about the affair? I thought I was over that part.

Finding Gratitude After an Affair

Gratitude can seem like a superpower in the wake of a discovered affair. It can feel like a superpower that is not only unattainable, but undesirable. When your morning begins with tears and pain it can be difficult to see any silver linings or good in your life. But there is goodness buried deep in the pain, there are smiles that emerge when you least expect them, and there is laughter that can fill your heart with joy even in the bleakest and darkest moments on your journey.

My family has a tradition of going around our Thanksgiving table and each person sharing what they are thankful for in their lives. My first Thanksgiving after D-Day my chest tightened and my throat tensed as the tradition of sharing gratitude began at our Thanksgiving table. I can’t recall all the thoughts that went through my head but I know I held back tears and I felt more resentment than gratitude. I resented my husband for cheating on me and I resented my family members around the table that were easily sharing their happiness. My pain was trapped inside me while my mother-in-law smiled looking over her family. There was also a part of me that wondered if this was my last Thanksgiving Day celebration with my husband’s family.

During our darkest hours where can we find happiness this Thanksgiving?

It is important to remember not to compare yourself or your life to the people that surround you. It’s hard to see people happy and, seemingly, on top of the world when you feel like your life is at its lowest point. Stop looking at your life through the lens of other people and focus more on the moments that surround you right now. I have found that even in my darkest times if I focus on the present I can find perfect moments surrounding me. Even when I felt like I might be swallowed up by the pain of my husband’s affair – I could still feel love and I could still choose hope over fear.

Sometimes you need to press the reset button on life just like we do on our phones when they are malfunctioning. There is no shame in getting away from everything and clearing your mind. Following my D-Day I began practicing yoga on a regular basis. It was my place to get away from everything that was causing me pain and (try) to empty the thoughts in my brain for an hour. I found my yoga mat became an oasis for me – a place for me to grow stronger and heal my wounds. That doesn’t mean my practice is perfect because there are times I’ve laid in savasana and wept. But I left those emotions on my mat – in my safe space. Yoga is a practice that tested my strength, my ability to flex and flow through movement, and forgive myself when my body would not do what it could do yesterday. I urge everyone to find a place where they can focus on their inner being, away from everything that has caused you pain, and begin to bring the happiness and light back into your life.

Remember that fate is not in control of your life. I asked my husband hundreds of times: Why? Why did he cheat? Why did he do this to me? There is really no good answer to these questions. There is no answer that would satisfy or heal my pain quicker or easier. My desire for the facts and tangible answers did not heal me faster. I think the most impactful choice I made was to take control of my life – be the one to make decisions for me and not allow external factors to influence my happiness. I choose to be happy with my life every day. It took time to get to a place where I could accept this is part of my life story, but I know that I am stronger now.

I can’t remember what I said I was thankful for that first year after D-Day.

Reflecting back upon that day I think it may have been easier to name my blessings because in darkness the light shines much brighter. My children would be the brightest light of all. Through everything that has happened in the last five years, my children have been a beacon of light. In my worst, darkest, and the most difficult days of my life they kept me moving, going, smiling, and caring. I had to love even as my heart felt like it was contracting. My children were my key source of happiness and they remain my primary source to this day.

I am thankful for everyone that has read this blog throughout my journey because you have made me stronger and let me know in my darkest moments that I was not alone.

I wish you happiness today. I hope you find a peace and joy.