Love and Fear

Fear & LoveThere are moments when I feel like Katniss standing on the metal circle before the [Hunger] Games begin. As if an invisible protective wall surrounds me but it does not control me. At any moment I could step off my metal circle and be blown to pieces. If I wait until the moment is right, I can step off but I still risk falling prey to my fears.

The other night I collapsed into my husband’s arms after we made love. He kissed my neck and whispered into my ear his love for me. His body relaxed as he sighed with sexual contentment, his arm increased in weight and I heard him breathe deeply and steadily until he fell asleep. I could feel his entire body embracing me, holding me tightly against his body. He holds me much closer these days. As I listened to my husband, somewhere between a deep breath and a light snore, my fears flooded into my mind.

I stepped off my metal circle and let my guard down completely when we made love. I exposed my raw needs and desires while giving myself to him completely. My invisible wall disappeared and I was standing in my version of Katniss’s Cornucopia. My hopes and dreams within my grasp, yet drowning in thoughts and  the reality of my husband’s affair too.

Why must moments of intense pleasure and happiness be followed by extreme anxiety? Evil thoughts and memories of his affair flood my mind. It’s like I am being tormented and harassed.  It’s ironic really. Following the moments I let my guard down and trust my husband I am tormented by the pain of his deception again.

I always find it amusing when an OW writes me a comment on my blog telling me I am naïve for trusting my husband after his affair. I was naïve before and during his affair. I believed that love prevented failure and disappointment. I believed that our love was so strong it created a bubble around us that was impenetrable. I am not naïve anymore. I spend every moment of my life (post D-Day) knowing that no marriage is immune from infidelity. I am more prepared now than ever before. I am armed with knowledge about my husband that no one else has—not his parents, siblings, friends and especially not his AP. I understand him on the most intimate level. That place where you fear to let even yourself inside. I not only know his failures but I also comprehend the profound depth of the damage done by his affair. He didn’t walk away unscathed and free from consequence.

The consequences are clear every day. We don’t walk around and ignore the affair or it’s aftermath. Paradoxically, when he was in the affair he believed his AP and the affair had no significance in his life. He consistently said after the affair that he believed his relationship with her would just run its course and end. I looked up what that meant because I hated the phrase: “Run its course.” According to the Free Dictionary online it means that something will continue its existence until it dies naturally, such as a disease. Yes, the affair was like a disease.

As I lay in my husband’s arms tonight, I start to wonder if this disease has a cure. In his arms I feel safe and secure. My memory has the ability to haunt me if I let it but his embrace reminds me that we have so many dreams together. As for the other night, when I was laying in bed and the nightmare began to replay in my mind… I whispered to my husband that I needed a distraction. He squeezed me and sleepily told me a story about his day until I fell asleep. Overcoming the disease of his affair is a fight we will have to conquer together. And if I am going to be Katniss, I choose to be the girl on fire. The girl that can overcome incredible hardships and survive.



My Confession

I was fifteen years old when my body issues surfaced. Most people would be shocked to know how much I struggle to accept my body. By the time I was a sophomore in high school I was 5’8” tall, I wore a 34C bra and I weighed in at 115 pounds. I would stand in front of my bedroom full-length mirror naked every night and cringe. Grabbing pieces of my body in disgust, sucking in my stomach and wishing I looked more waif-like. Every morning when I went into my bathroom I would measure the side of my waist against the tiles on the wall. I would not allow my waist to grow wider than one tile. Those 4 x 4 inch tiles controlled my mind.

The summer before my sophomore year I decided I needed to weigh 100 pounds and I don’t even know what propelled this thought. I knew I would have to take drastic measures to reach this goal but I was prepared. I allowed myself one meal a day—dinner. I chose dinner because I knew my parents would notice if I stopped eating and I wanted to avoid confrontation. Other than dinner I was allowed water and two Tic Tacs a day (in place of breakfast and lunch). I chose Tic Tacs because I knew that each piece was only two calories. I also adopted a new exercise regimen, on top of my normal athletics. The first day was the most difficult but I adapted to my new diet and my body seemed to stop protesting the lack of nutrition it was receiving after only a few days.

In about two weeks, I weighed in at 105 pounds. I could see the results on the scale but the mirror was still reflecting the same image. I still hated my body. I still saw the same flaws. There was no rationality to what I saw when I looked at myself. I envied the bodies of models like Christy Turlington and Kate Moss.

My weight-loss plan ended when my best friend began hanging out with me 24/7. It became impossible for me to not eat around her and much to my dismay; I have never been able to make myself vomit. So I allowed myself to eat again and I repressed the thought that I may have an eating disorder for a few more years.

The problem with repressing thoughts is that they have a way of resurfacing . My freshman year of college I was more afraid of gaining the freshman fifteen than anything. I realized no one was keeping track of my meals or eating patterns. No one, but me. I resumed my former habit of withholding food from myself. I allowed myself one bag of fat-free microwave popcorn during the day and then a cup of soup at night. I was exhausted from the lack of calories so I started drinking coffee—no cream, no sugar. I had to keep my calorie intake down. The effects of this on my body were impossible to ignore and my diet didn’t last long. Instead of withholding food, I joined a gym.

I began to work out every day, except Sunday, for one hour. Working out at the gym gave me a body that was ripped and solid. I began to like my body. When I looked in the mirror I still could point to flaws but I could also see muscles that were sexy. I bought my first bikini that year and I felt sexy. I began to like my body but I was still focused on the numbers on the scale. It bothered me that my new toned physique weighed in at 125 pounds. But I reminded myself that muscle weighs more than fat. Once again, I suppressed my eating disorder mindset.

I went seventeen years without falling back into starvation habits. In those seventeen years I fell in love, got married and gave birth to three beautiful children. On the day I discovered my husband’s affair I probably weighed about 138 pounds. For those previous seventeen years, I avoided weighing myself because of my previous issues with weight and body image. To be honest, I was not happy with my weight but I was doing very little to change my exercise regimen.

Like most women, discovering my husband’s affair resulted in a complete lack of appetite. I think in the first three days I ate one banana. But this time was different from my past history with anorexia. I knew I needed to eat but I couldn’t. I remember forcing that banana down and struggling to keep it down. My body was rejecting food. To be painfully honest, this brought me some satisfaction. I wondered if I wasted away would my husband even notice?

I don’t remember the first time I weighed myself after my D-Day but I do remember seeing the numbers decrease on a regular basis. I didn’t really believe I would lose much more than eight or ten pounds because my appetite began to come back around month three. But my stomach could no longer handle a normal size portion of food and sometimes I am just not hungry. Today I weigh 122 pounds. When I strip down and stand in front of a mirror I still see all my flaws. I struggle to see my body as beautiful. I hear people compliment my body but I cannot see it.

The image my mind sees reflected in the mirror is irrational. I am acknowledging that this doesn’t make sense and I have a very unhealthy self-image. I’ve never spoken openly about this issue until these words were typed upon this page. I am still nervous about publishing this post. Somehow talking about my husband’s affair and the aftermath is easier than revealing this… So why am I writing this? I need to be honest with myself. I need to hold myself accountable.

In writing this post and exposing myself, I recognize how my issues share some similarities with my husband’s mindset while involved in his affair.  It wasn’t really based on anything real; neither of us acted because of something we truly believe. As much weight as I lose I still don’t see myself as better or feel great. The flickering moment of the scale telling me my weight is less than yesterday is my only high associated with my eating problems. And if the number is more than the day before then I feel like a failure, crap, disappointed in myself.  I hate feeling hungry. I hate the way my stomach churns when I haven’t eaten enough. I hate the headaches that come from withholding food from my body. And, I notice my moods are more extreme when I am hungry, thus the term: hangry. Anyone who has been hungry before can understand that it doesn’t feel good to starve. Sometimes I think it’s a cry for help or attention, but I also understand it’s about control. I can control my food intake even when I feel like everything else is out of my control. Is it crazy to compare this to what my husband may have felt while involved in his affair? Maybe. Maybe not.

Image borrowed from

The Blame Game

crossroads_detailI am at a crossroads. I’ve been marching along on this journey of healing, rebuilding my marriage and self-discovery for eight of the longest months of my life. There have been times I believed I was healing at breakneck pace. At one point, I believed I could get through this faster than any other betrayed spouse. Don’t we all want to believe that we can take some kind of accelerated course and find ourselves on the other side of the healing? Don’t we all want to feel like Anne Bercht and say that our husband’s affair became the best thing that ever happened to us?

With a huge gulp, trying to swallow those words, I nod my head begging for his infidelity to have some positive meaning in my life. Well, of course it has meaning. His affair has changed me. Regardless of his intention or motivation, he gave his time and energy to another woman. Last night as we lay in bed I asked him how it feels to know she lied to him during their entire relationship. How many conversations did they have based upon her lie that she was separated and going through a divorce? How many times did he go to her just because he felt sorry for her and felt like he was the only person she could talk to? Then I wondered what lies she told him that he doesn’t remember because he didn’t respond to them. I pondered out loud how tiring it must have been for her to keep up with all her lies.

Then I had to laugh. Shit! How hard was it for my husband to keep up with the lies he was telling me? Here I am asking him how it feels to know he was lied to by some woman who means nothing to him and is out of his life forever. Yet, here I am, married to a man who lied to me for the same period of time. For the most part they were lies of omission. But, there were times he flat out lied. He lied to me a year ago on the only night he took her out on a “date.” I called him for two hours trying to find him. When he finally called me back he lied and said he was out with his boss. He lied to me the night she stopped by his office and they had sex and he came home late. He lied when I told him I didn’t trust her and he compared their relationship to one I had with a male co-worker. Guess what? I wasn’t sleeping with my co-worker. In the end her lies don’t matter to me, only his.

Back to my crossroads (sorry for the tangent). I have been at this stop sign for a few weeks unable to get myself in first gear and continue. I am done hating the other woman. The facts are that she is evil, crazy and she tried to steal my husband. I am not blaming her for my husband cheating on me but I know her lies influenced his decision. What I realize now is that I must hold him fully accountable for the affair. He’s been willing to accept this responsibility all along but I wasn’t giving it to him. I was pushing it back on her because it’s easier to hate the other woman than my husband.

Maybe this is a defense mechanism. I hate Bat-Shit and blamed her for the affair and now the blame is shifting back to my husband. I love my husband and the betrayal already stings like a bitch, so it was easier to blame her. We have to believe that our husbands were trapped and tricked into having an affair. He didn’t know he was stepping in shit until he smelled it on his shoes later. The truth is he ignored what was going on in his own life. How could my husband’s affair partner tell him in an email she wanted him to “have this affair” but he didn’t know they were going to sleep with each other until he inserted his cock inside her vagina? He was ignoring his reality and continued to for twelve more months.

I asked him a few nights ago how aware he was that he was having an affair and cheating on me. He said that on a scale of one to ten his awareness was a three at most. He says some days it was a zero. If you watched the VLOG, Getting Caught, from Always Yours, Bee, you may have seen her husband say the same thing. During his affair he was judgemental of a friend that cheated on his wife. He couldn’t see that he was doing the same thing to his wife and family. He couldn’t see that he might face the same consequences of a broken family when his affair was discovered. My husband could completely relate to Bug. His defense mechanism was not allowing himself to absorb what he was doing. My defense mechanism was to not give him 100% of the blame. But now that has changed.

I am stuck here trying to move forward but frustrated by this new phase. I am still hurt by his actions. I want to get moving again but I feel a new sadness. Every time I think I am regaining control my mind slips back into the darkness. How will his affair become the best thing that has ever happened to me? I have to hold onto this blind faith that each phase of recovery is a step forward even if it feels like five steps backward. I hold on to the fact that through this entire thing my husband has been my rock, my support and strength… my best friend. Often times it helps to share my fears and struggles here on my blog. I can share them and then let them go. I am ready for something better now. Let’s go…

ps hope

Progress is hard work.

hands_making_a_heart_in_the_sunset-t2Affair recovery is hard work. Here I am, nearly eight months from my D-Day. I see progress in both my emotional & psychological stability and our marriage. In many ways I feel like our marriage is better than it’s ever been. How is that fair?

One of my good [single] girlfriends told me today she realizes that she knows she needs to choose her husband wisely because he will share the responsibility for her happiness. I spoke up and said: “well, you are responsible for your own happiness. But I hear you.” She continued to say that whoever she brings into her life will have a direct impact on her well-being and happiness.

This begs the question: Am I happy?

I think I am. Most of my days are good. I smile, play with my kids, laugh with friends, kiss my husband and make love to him. But every day is tainted by his affair. I have not had a day in seven and a half months where I haven’t thought about my husband’s affair. I haven’t had a thought about the affair that wasn’t followed by sadness, doubt or despair.

wolvesI see how my husband pulled away from me during his affair. Before his affair he feared I wasn’t attracted to him anymore because our sex life had decreased. This bothered him but he never said a word to me about it. During his affair I think his AP made him believe I wasn’t attracted to him. He says she never said anything about me to him but you don’t have to say things directly to make people believe propaganda. Just her asking him for sex on a weekly basis is enough to make him think I wasn’t attracted to him. Then you add to that her sending him two or three sexual emails a day and you would be foolish to think that I was the one attracted to him because I do not send him sexual emails. I am sure it was her plan too because she knew from the beginning that was his fear. The seed was already planted all she had to do was water it. And oh, how it grew. The more he believed I wasn’t attracted to him the less he initiated sex with me. The less he initiated sex the less attractive and desirable I felt. The less attention he paid to me the more I felt emotionally disconnected. The less connected I felt to him the less I initiated sex. This also led to my unhappiness and ultimately that is what led me to discover his affair. I realized that my happiness was not within my control and that the man I was sharing my life with was not giving me what I needed. That’s what led me to the truth… or did it lead me to his lies?

When I assess my life now, I wonder if all this work is worth it.

I have to believe yes.

But there are moments where the doubt creeps in and sets your mind on fire. Pain is one of the strongest triggers in our brains and it’s the most difficult to reprogram. The pain was triggered in my brain yesterday. I had an amazing day with my husband but yet I saw a license plate on the car ride home that said OMG OMG. OMG triggered my brain to remember her countless emails that were titled that (I am guessing to build my husband’s ego that he was so amazing in bed).

Right now, my biggest question to him is why was he more worried about being the bad guy in her life than being the villain in mine? He says he didn’t walk away from her because he didn’t want to be the asshole and leave her all alone. Yet, his cheating hurt me more than his leaving her caused her pain. He knows that now but why can’t cheaters see the truth while they are in the affair? Why were my needs not important during his affair? Why were his needs unimportant? I guess all I can say is it was his impaired psychological state. He behaved like an addict, returning to his AP even though each time he went to her to get his ego stroked he walked away feeling worse about himself and even more like a failure. He kept returning for that high… . Even though he says he could see right through her paper thin compliments and attention, like a junkie he kept going back.

So there we were in the car yesterday with me directing questions at him. He always answers them but this time he answered them quietly and I could see he was hurt (not by me, by himself). He recognizes that we can have a beautiful day together but the affair always finds a way to creep back in and muddle it. I have very little sympathy and he doesn’t expect any or even mention his pain to me. I just see it on his face and in his eyes. He caused this pain by his actions and he must learn how he will survive it.

The journey of affair recovery is hard but so far, it’s been worth it.


Infidelity = A marriage forever changed

Easter weekend was like a breath of fresh air for me. I kept my mind stable and enjoyed the warmth of Spring that was teasing the Northeast. I randomly ran into an old friend last weekend. I hadn’t seen her in at least two years but our history goes back about sixteen years. In fact, we met about the same time I met my husband. So she has known us before we were married and pre-children. We now live in different parts of the state and keep up with each other on Facebook. She’s one of those friends you don’t need to see or talk to all the time, you just pick up wherever you are now in life.

Needlesstosay, she does not know about my husband’s affair. I imagine if she did know she would be matter-of-fact about it and just ask what I was doing about it. I didn’t tell her about the affair because it didn’t seem relevant and we were surrounded by eavesdropping ears. As she was about to walk away she said:

How are you and ____ [insert my husband’s name]? You two are the happiest married couple I know and if you tell me it’s a facade it’ll destroy me!

laughter… laughter…

Until that moment in our conversation I had forgotten about my husband’s affair but then there it was like a cartoon cloud that just appears and rains on only you. Luckily, enough time has passed since D-Day that I was able to offer a sarcastic comment and laugh with my friend. So the question is out there now.

Is our relationship a facade?

Woman Looking at ReflectionI mean, I love my husband and I am fighting for this marriage because I believe in our love and the amazing potential of our relationship. But the truth of the matter is that we are still living in a world of hurt and pain. Yes, the pain is in the background now, but it is still everpresent. It doesn’t control me as much or make me fall apart on a regular consistant basis. So will our relationship always be a facade or will it ever be real again?

At least one or two nights every week my husband and I lay in bed with me asking questions, probing for answers and looking for something to ease my pain. Sometimes I find it and sometimes I don’t. My husband struggles with me saying that we will never have our pre-affair relationship back. His choice to have a yearlong affair will never slip from my memory completely and he will always wish he could go back in time and make better decisions to protect our marriage. He is struggling to grasp that we can never go back–our relationship is now defined (as much as I said it wouldn’t) as pre-affair, affair and post-affair. I do believe that if we stay the course and continue to rebuild that we will have a better marriage than what we started with more than twelve years ago.

My husband wants us to have our old marriage back. Why? He believes the affair was 100% his doing and was not because of our marriage or me. So he continues to hope that I will love him like I did before he cheated. I don’t really know that I love him any differently but we need to reestablish trust and respect. Every time we have this discussion I ask him why he has such a hard time understanding that we can’t go back? I can’t ever love him without knowing that he cheated. I will never have a husband that was faithful. I will never have a husband who didn’t lie and deceive me for over a year. I will never trust any relationship he has and I will always question that he is hiding information from me about the people he spends time with and places he goes.

This is the result of his affair.

A marriage forever changed. Will I ever not feel pain? Will I ever trust him and my decision to stay and rebuild? Will I ever not feel like I deserved more? I really don’t know but I love him enough to fight for our marriage.

A letter to myself, a betrayed wife.

Dear Self,

I want you to find happiness. True happiness and peace within your soul. I know some days it feels impossible and the emotions from your husband’s infidelity are all you can feel, but remember the pain will recede with time. Remember when you first found out? Your mind couldn’t comprehend your husband’s actions and what he had done. You were angry, hurt, sad and you felt like your entire world had ended.

Well, your life did not end. 

You’ve woken up 188 days since that horrible night. Your eyes have opened, your feet have touched the ground and you’ve taken countless breaths since then. Breathing seems like such a simple action but remember how hard it was to catch your breath in the wake of discovering your husband’s affair? Remember the frantic tears and screaming that consumed you? That part is over. For 188 days you’ve opened your eyes each morning and survived. Survived a pain worse than you have ever known.

37a16153be3572ae11b2971757216643Perhaps, you did not realize how much you loved your husband until you realized your marriage might be over. It’s possible that both of you did not comprehend the devastation and horror of deception until the affair was uncovered. And it’s possible, that your husband, as much as he loves you, did not love himself enough to stop the affair. The affair was not about you. It was not about an unhappy or unloving marriage. The affair was about him and his feelings of failure. Those feelings led him to self-destruct. Your husband never even considered for one second during his affair that his actions would rip your heart out, cause you pain that would make you welcome death, destroy the marriage you once shared. It may hurt more because you are both so much in love. Maybe that connection will be a blessing and make you work harder.

Remember to love yourself. Embrace happiness. Pursue your dreams. You are in control of your own future and the people you choose to share your life. You are secure in yourself and that is also a blessing. Don’t let this affair change who you are deep down inside. Yes, the affair should open your eyes and force you to look deeply at what weaknesses lay within you and your husband, but don’t allow this to change your soul.


You are beautiful.

You are loved.

You are smart.

You are kind.

You are strong.

I bet you never realized how strong you actually are, right? You never thought you would fight for a broken relationship and do it with pride. You never thought you would love him if he cheated. I bet it shocks the hell out of you that you never stopped loving him. His arms wrapped around your body have never made you feel so safe. His kiss has never made you feel so loved. The sound of his voice has never made your heart beat faster than it does today. Your love will continue and grow. You will find that when you make your way to the other side of this journey you will both be better, stronger and happier.

Every day is a blessing, even those days that feel like a nightmare. You realize this now when you look around and see how fragile life can be. You’ve lost family and friends since discovering his affair and celebrated holidays, anniversaries, birthdays and more. Life continues regardless of the pain you feel and the tears you cry. Remember the sun rises each morning out of darkness and so shall you. When you place your feet upon the ground, connect yourself to the world and engage your mind, body and soul in all that you do.

You are much more than this affair. 

Your husband is much more than this affair. 

As strong as you are remember that you are also vulnerable. You forgot that before. You thought that a good (better than good) marriage was not vulnerable to an affair. You didn’t protect the marriage. You didn’t know any better, but now you do. You know that even a loving, supportive, happy marriage can hold a spouse that is less than confident in himself/herself. He realizes he trusted the wrong person. He didn’t go looking for an affair but he did propel it forward. He gave her an invitation to exploit him, use him for her own selfish needs and leave him feeling like a complete failure. Recognize both your mistakes and take that knowledge with you. Recognize that love is a verb, an action and you must live that love to feel it everyday. You know now that love is primary… life may bring annoyances and grievances but the love must be first. Communication is utterly important. No matter how much you love someone and how in sync you are, neither of you are mind readers. You must speak your thoughts, your fears, your joys–all of it matters and is more important than you knew.

There is no road map to heal from infidelity but you should trust your instincts. No matter how powerful and painful the breaking is from infidelity, that breaking is opening up a door to a new life. One that is better because of this pain.

You will survive.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Listen to your heart. 

I am. I am. I am.



Thoughts from a betrayed wife six months post d-day

ImageI’ve started a few posts over the last few weeks but none were published. None of them finished. Most of them barely started. So if I can’t finish them why not let you know where I am on this journey?

1. I went to a Infidelity Support Group meeting a few weeks ago. I cried the entire car ride to the meeting. Listening to music that was depressing and sad (most of it is after infidelity, right?). I got there and walked through the door seeing a man and a woman who seemed to know each other. In the end there were only four of us there–two rookies (me and another woman) and the veteran betrayed spouses. We shared our stories with each other and I walked away feeling okay. I don’t really feel like I need to go back. Not unless something stirs and I need some companionship for this journey. Maybe it was the group of people or maybe it was just not something I need right now.

Image2. Six Months. We are a little over six months past our D-Day now. It’s bittersweet. I guess in some ways I am glad that I’ve survived because in the beginning the pain was so raw I thought I might be swallowed up into it. I am eating, sleeping and pretty much a functional person in society (at least for appearances sake). Reaching a milestone like six months, one year, two years is like a reaching that illusive pot of gold. You believe it’s there and you keep seeking it at the end of each storm and rainbow, but you just aren’t sure it’s real. That’s how I feel. I am not sure everything is real yet. The cloud is still surrounding me and there is certainly a fog that covers my brain. We made it here though and at this point I can honestly say I have more good days than bad by far. I can go for a stretch of 7-10 days before the pain begins to swell and fill me with doubt again.

The good news is, I recover much quicker now. The great news is that my husband pushed through his feelings of failure the other night. He knew he disappointed me, that I was having a trigger day and he tried to help but didn’t completely follow through. I told him I was upset and why. I expected him to sink into himself and let his hatred consume him. But he overcame it all and was there for me in my pain. It meant the world to me.

Image3. On our six month anniversary of our D-Day we got bad news from a friend. A good friend of ours found out he has cancer. He has two young children and the prognosis is not very good for him. The news shook me and my husband to our core. Immediately, you think of how you would feel in the same situation–how would I cope, fight, go on with my everyday life? Then I thought, what if I found out right now the same news about my husband… how would I care for him and heal from his infidelity at the same time? Would it make me put aside the pain from the betrayal or would it foster resentment? I’d like to say that for me, it would make me push beyond this pain and recognize how fragile life is. But yet again, would it make me angry to think he wasted over a year of our lives when life is so temporary and precious?


Stay by Rihanna makes me think about this healing process… It seems to be on the radio every time my kids are in the car and tune into the local Pop station. The line that gets me every time is:

Ooh the reason I hold on
Ooh cause I need this hole gone
Funny you’re the broken one but I’m the only one who needed saving
Cause when you never see the light it’s hard to know which one of us is caving

What does it take to remove the pain after infidelity? I’ve noticed that although I am taking steps forward and I am happier, I still find myself hurt and emotional about things that shouldn’t bother me. ImageThe morning I found out about my husband’s affair I had to go to the grocery store to buy oranges for my son’s soccer team. A few days after D-Day, I had to go grocery shopping. Now, every f-ing time I am pushing the darn cart through the grocery store my mood shifts and I feel like I am walking through a fog. I’ve tried shopping at different grocery stores but the result is always the same. Maybe it’s seeing all the housewives walking through the store, or the fear that his AP will be in the store shopping by some odd chance, or maybe it’s the horrible sappy music they play. Why is grocery shopping a trigger for sadness and feelings of being alone? I’ve been responsible for the grocery shopping for our family for over 14 years. We’ve shopped together through the years, I shopped with the children when they were younger. Heck, I still have memories of grocery shopping with my mom as a little girl. So why does one stupid song playing over the supermarket sound system strip my confidence and make me want to curl up in a ball and cry?

For a few months after my D-Day, everytime I drove to visit my husband at work, in the town where his affair occured, I fell apart. If I was with my husband I was fine but driving in the car alone crushed me. His affair occured once in his office and every other time at her home, which is about one mile from his business. Since D-Day I was sure to have sex with him in his office and we’ve even gotten into a routine of meeting up just after business hours to screw all over the office. I feel like I took back his office space and fulfilled some fantasies of ours while I was at it.

Three weeks ago, on my way to see him I drove by her house for the first time ever. I wasn’t sure how it would affect me but I decided to own what I was doing.Image I needed to see her house and where my husband had sex with her for a year. It was about 9 p.m. at night and pretty dark outside. I drove by once and saw that there were only a few lights on and it appeared she was upstairs in what I guessed was the bedroom she screwed my husband in. Her car was in the driveway so I knew she was home (which I found entertaining since she is single and it was a Friday night–obviously her life is full of excitement). I turned around at the end of her street and drove by again, this time slowing down and trying to see if I could see anything–then I surprised myself and honked my car horn a few times and drove off. I was laughing all the way to my husband’s office. I told him my childish antics and he laughed. He confirmed the light on was her bedroom and the conversation was easy and light. I am just enough of a stalker that I drove by again the next Friday night just before 9 p.m. This time I only went by once and I could see she was in her bedroom alone again. I honked my horn a few times hoping she would hear and wonder who was being so obnoxious again.

It may be stupid and immature but I am reclaiming the town my husband works in for myself. I need to regain my strength and power and not allow her to strip me of anything. ImageYesterday, my husband and I went to a conference together and I picked him up at his office so we could drive together. Afterwards, we went back to get his car and I couldn’t help but love the fact that he held me tight and kissed me passionately while we stood in a parking lot visible to the Main Street intersection in town. I truly hope that she saw us. Or even better, I hope someone she knows saw us and told her about us kissing. It’s all petty and sounds dumb if you aren’t the betrayed spouse. I need to own my life. I need to know that my husband will kiss me anywhere and anytime he feels like it. I want my husband to look around each corner of his business and picture us together intimately and passionately.

As much as I am reclaiming some aspects of my life there are still stupid things that haunt me. The darn grocery store is one of them that I need to overcome. I need to create a new memory to take the place of the negative one lurking in my brain.