"If Only You Were Different": Owning Up to Resentment

I used to almost choke on my resentment.
I resented washing the dishes while my husband watched TV. I resented getting up for a 3 a.m. feeding while my husband slept. I resented having to shut down my computer in the midst of writing a chapter because a toddler woke up early from a nap. I resented my husband's family, who would arrive with nothing but subtle judgement about my home and children. I resented his freedom. I even resented his resentment.
Around the time I found myself resenting the fact that my husband was using up oxygen that I thought should be mine...I finally acknowledged that my marriage was in serious trouble.
I was about to learn exactly how serious.
By the time I suggested marital counselling, we'd both been simmering for years. Me choking back resentment. Him expressing it in the form of multiple affairs, which I "discovered" just a few weeks into our marital counselling. In hindsight, I'd suspected for months...but only trusted that intuition when I recognized that he was willing to try and save the marriage. But that's another post.
Unlike Kim Kardashian, most of us spend years in marital misery before we take steps to either end the misery by looking outside the marriage for what we need...or ending the marriage altogether.
Which is why so many marriage counsellors note that it's not the affair itself that determines whether or not a marriage is salvageable, but the state of marriage apart from that. It's possible, despite what so many of us previously thought, to view the affair as a symptom of marital distress, rather than the sole cause. But because an affair raises the stakes so dramatically, we tend to focus on it rather than what led to it. We also tend to resist focussing what led to it because it can seem, to those of us feeling "wronged" like we somehow "caused" the affair. We. Did. Not.
But...staying stuck in that victim mode of being wronged serves no-one, least of all ourselves.
So it's important to examine what our marriage was like. Honestly. Which is no easy task when our dreams are strewn around us like a toddler's toys.
I would have told you that my marriage was good. That we were good friends. Sure, we had our issues. But don't all couples?
A few weeks ago, I was able to finally admit to our marriage counsellor – within the context of why I wasn't more affectionate with my husband – that his touch used to infuriate me.
Why? Well...I had to think about it. Then I recalled how often he would hug me from behind when I was doing the dishes. And all I could think was "why aren't you helping me do the dishes rather than hugging me?" Or he would tell me I looked beautiful when I was breastfeeding one our kids...and I would think "why aren't you throwing in a load of laundry instead of staring at me?" And so on.
I had no idea how to ask for the help I needed. He was incapable of hearing any request I made as anything other than criticism (his mind-tape plays only one song: "You're doing it wrong. You're doing it wrong."). And so I was in my corner...and he in his.
And our resentment reached a boiling point.
It's hard to admit that I wasn't the lovely, warm wife I wanted to believe I was.
And he certainly deals with the shame that he was hardly the devoted husband.
But by looking at who we were in the marriage, we're able to more clearly decide who we want to be now...in this new marriage with the same spouse.
It has taken almost five years to get to this point. Five years of which I spent at least two determined to get him to admit that our marriage would have been wonderful if only...
If only he had spent less time at work.
If only he had helped me more.
If only...
If only we had both been capable of being different people. We couldn't then. But we can now.

Wanna go public?

If you're interested in telling your story to a zillion viewers (can't disclose the network but it's one noted for sensitivity/compassion):

My name is Patrick Hartz and I'm a producer for True Entertainment in New York.  We are currently producing a series that explores infidelity among couples.I'm very interested in hearing from any couples who have experienced infidelity and have been able to stay married and work past it.  I'm also looking to speak with couples who have divorced as a result, but have been able to remain on decent terms.Please feel free to email me at Hartz@TrueEntertainment.net for more details and a link to a full episode of the show.

Happiness In the Wake of Betrayal

There was a time I doubted it was possible. How could I ever – EVER! – get past what he did. I couldn't, I was sure. I resigned myself to a life half-lived, to gritting my teeth and sacrificing my own happiness so that my kids could remain in an intact home.
The truth is I felt trapped, afraid to actually take steps to end the marriage, and decided to assume the role of martyr. Blech.
In moments of candor I admitted that I believed marriage was a lifetime commitment (that's not to say I blame anyone for walking out of a marriage that kills their soul). And I desperately wanted my family to remain intact. I also, thanks to years of childhood training by alcoholic-turned-former-alcoholic parents, believed in the power of people to change. To become as wonderful as I always thought they could be. And though I'd learned the hard way that this change had to come from their desire not from my wishful thinking, old habits die hard.
I also kept working. As did my husband. On communicating. On healing. On creating true intimacy. On learning who each other really was. On accepting myself and him...just as we are.
It was hard. Exhausting. Demoralizing at times. Wonderful at others.
And, recently,  I realized that I'm something I never thought I could be again. Happy.
I had thought I might achieve contentment. A sort of acceptance that life wasn't so bad. But I never expected to experience the joy I had in the "before" part of my life.
And it's not the same. I'm not sure I'll ever ride those highs again. But then again, perhaps I will. Because I'm well and truly happy. Not just content. But full of joy and hope and eager to watch the rest of my life unfold.
My marriage feels...solid. My husband is someone I'm falling in love with all over again. He's surprised me in ways that are miraculous after 15 years of marriage. He has become, as he promised me he would try, the "man you already believed I was."
To all those wondering if it's possible – wondering as I did if all those reports of a "marriage even better than before" was total Pollyanna BS – I'm happy to report it is indeed possible. Even, with a lot of hard work on both sides, probable.
I told my husband about a week ago that I really feel as if those horrible days/weeks/years following D-Day are now just part of the fabric of our life together. Not the predominant pattern, simply a part.
I'm on the other side.

Tracing Back Your Feelings to Regain Your Power

I frequently hear women berate themselves for not knowing about their husband's affairs. "I was so stupid!" they rail. "The signs were all there...and I ignored them." "I should have known."
Please: Stop.
Hindsight isn't there to prompt self-flagellation. It's there to teach. And when the lesson is learned, we move on.
The anger, I think, comes from embarrassment. We beat ourselves up for not knowing something that we think others had already figured out. Or that another wife would have figured out if she'd been in our shoes.
However, anger, as I often note, is generally what therapists call a secondary emotion. It masks hurt and fear. And you're likely feeling a whole lot of both of those.
Once you peel the anger away – "I'm such an idiot" – and examine the feelings behind that, it's easier to manage. I, for one, was terrified that since I missed the signs the first time, it could easily happen again – or could be going on RIGHT NOW AND OHMYGOD WHY ISN'T HE HOME FROM THE GROCERY STORE I'M SUCH AN IDIOT AND I HATE HIM AND HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME AND AND AND...
It was easy for me to spiral down into total despair.
Our couples therapist recently asked my husband, whom I think has a lot of anger (which I HATE), to trace the feelings back. For example, my husband was furious that a water heater we'd installed didn't seem to be giving him hot water as quickly as he wanted it. So what? was my response. But he was really angry about it. I brought up what I perceive as his rather erratic anger at our session. As my husband traced the anger back, it quickly became clear that his anger stems from feelings that he screwed up. That he bought the wrong water heater, that he hadn't done enough research, that he was being ripped off by the company...that he had done something wrong. Which, if you trace back most of my husband's reactions to just about everything, is where you'll end up: I screwed up and I'm going to be in trouble. Which, if you trace it back further, pretty much sums up my husband's childhood.
It's a fascinating exercise but one that few of us do in the midst of reacting. Taking time, however, to slow down and put the reaction under something of a microscope reveals all the barely discernible micro-reactions taking place. All the split-second conversations we have with ourselves.
Shining a light on my fear – that this could/would happen again and I would be blind-sided and crippled by it – helped me understand that things were different now. I could remind myself that I wasn't as naive or trusting as I was and that I was more alert to signs of cheating. I could comfort myself with my Escape Plan, something I recommend all newly betrayed wives (or oldly betrayed wives) create. I could reassure myself that I would be fine. That I am capable of surviving betrayal and though it doesn't feel good, it won't kill me.
It most definitely won't kill me.

Why You Need An Escape Plan...Even If You Don't Plan to Leave

©wfmillar and licensed for reuse under Creative Commons Licence.

Discovering a partner's infidelity can sometimes feel as if you're drowning. In despair. Confusion. Shock. Pain. Most of us experience all of the above and, consequently, an overwhelming feeling of powerlessness. This was done TO us...and now we're left dealing with the fallout.Which is why it's crucial to have an Escape Plan. And Escape Plan is a realistic step-by-step plan of what you'll do if...
a) your husband refuses to end his affair or you have reason to believe he's lying about ending the affair
b) he engages in the crazy-making behaviour common to cheating husbands including but not limited to calling you hysterical, out-of-control, jealous, manipulative, or he otherwise makes YOU the problem
c) he uses Divorce as his trump card, as in, "If you can't just leave the past in the past then we should just get a divorce."
An Escape Plan is your chance to take back your life and put yourself in control of your future. And though you may never act on it, it's paramount to your healing (which includes healing your own battered self-esteem) to have a plan that focuses entirely (though not exclusively) on your well-being.

How do you create an Escape Plan?
•Start by figuring out where you would go if you needed short-term accommodation (ie. your husband refuses to leave/sleep on the couch). It might be your parents' house, a best friend, a neighbour. We're simply thinking short-term here, somewhere you could go to escape for a few days or a week, taking kids if necessary, in order to get your head straight. And allow your spouse to get his head straight and, perhaps, recognize that the New You isn't going to tolerate his bullshit.
•Figure out what logistics need to be in place: For example, if your short-term accommodation involves leaving town, how will this affect getting to your job or getting kids to school? Can you commute for a few days or weeks? Is there somewhere else the kids would need to stay during the week? Would a nearby hotel be a better option?
•What will you do for money? Do you have access to your own cash? A credit card that he can't put a stop on? What if your short-term turns into a month or so? Can you afford to pay for a hotel for that long?
•Meet with a lawyer to determine what your life would look like if you left the marriage. Again, this is just a dress rehearsal. It's a chance for you to take back the reins of your life and know that you will be okay, no matter what happens. And by okay, I mean that you'll be entitled to what is yours financially.

"But why, if I don't want to separate/divorce?"
Your Escape Plan is as much an insurance policy as an actual plan. It's something to have in place in case things go even more to hell. In case he cheats again. In case his affair never ended. In case the Other Woman announces she's pregnant. It's to ensure you're not blind-sided again. And it's to offer you some security that even if you don't get blind-sided again...you'd be prepared if you were.

Letter to a Newly Betrayed Wife

A woman recently commented on an old post. She shared her story of her husband, who's involved emotionally (and likely physically) with a woman from work. This woman is also a friend of the family. The wife is hurt, bewildered, confused. Like so many of us, she simply can't fathom why her husband, whom she loves, will continue to hurt her like this despite begging him to stop.

I wrote this to her in response and thought it might help other women who are just finding out. It's been almost five years since I found out, but hearing others' stories takes me back to that horrible time when simply breathing was painful. I wish I'd had someone to help me put one foot in front of another... 

Dear Newly Betrayed Wife,

I'm so, so sorry for what you're going through. It's hell, I know. 

Your husband is so far into the fog of an affair (whether emotional or physical) that he can barely register you except as an inconvenience. Affairs are selfish. They are about seeking something in another person that you can't find in yourself. But none of that is your concern, though you'll likely, after the dust has settled, want to determine what exactly your husband was seeking outside the marriage that he didn't think he could find within it.

You say this has been going on for 1 1/2 years? And though he's denying a physical affair, you've certainly got evidence of emotional betrayal. E-mailed "I love you"s certainly constitute betrayal and don't let him hide behind the "but we're not having sex" defense. Who cares! He's intimate with this woman, whether clothes are on or off. And you've asked him to stop because you perceive – correctly – that it threatens your marriage. That's all you need to know right now.

You've got to set some very clear boundaries and – this is key – THAT YOU WILL ENFORCE. You're handing over your power to two people who clearly don't much care if you're being hurt. It's time to take it back. If you want your marriage – and it certainly sounds as if you do – you need to insist that your husband cut ties with this woman immediately and start the hard work of earning back your trust and respect. That means NO CONTACT with this woman. 

He'll likely continue gaslighting: "But I'm helping out a friend," he'll say. "She needs me right now more than you..." etc. DO NOT GET INTO IT WITH HIM. 

And if he gets angry, don't engage. Anger is simply a countermove intended to get you to back down. Take a breath and restate your boundary: "You need to stop seeing her or you need to leave." Or whatever it is you determine is a consequence you will stick with. Decide: Does he leave? Will you leave? Does he sleep on the couch? Do you no longer give him the other privileges of having you in his life -- sex, comfort, companionship. It must be something you will follow through with or you're simply teaching him that you're making empty threats.

This is NOT about manipulating him, it's about taking care of yourself and ensuring that you are treated with respect and dignity and honesty. He won't treat you that way until you start treating yourself that way.
You do NOT deserve this. You are his wife and he made a commitment to you and he's violating that, whether there's sex involved or not (and brace yourself, because I'm guessing there is).


He might walk out of the door. And you might desperately want to call him back and beg for his forgiveness. DO NOT. The only way for him to realize what he's missing by walking out is to...miss you. To truly face the consequences of his choice. If he keeps walking, then it was simply a matter of time before he left anyway. He's already been living with one foot out the door for 1 1/2 years. You either want him IN the marriage or OUT. He can't have it both ways. 

You need to fight like hell for your own dignity and fight like hell for your marriage. And that doesn't mean putting up with being treated like you don't matter. 


I would also advise getting yourself over to survivinginfidelity.com and going into the "Just Found Out" section. You'll find lots of wonderful people who can give you advice and coach you in real time. 


You will get through this, I promise. I hope your husband smartens up before you realize you're better off without him.
You're stronger than you know. And we're here to tell you that whenever you need us.


Elle

A Witness to the Pain of Infidelity

There's much debate raging on another site regarding a post by Wendy Strgar of Good Clean Love, whom I've quoted here before. Wendy offers up much wisdom in her approach to creating solid happy relationships but, from what I know and from what she's revealed, she's never experienced a spouse's sexual betrayal.
As a result, as many commenters have pointed out, her post seems somewhat cavalier. As if getting over betrayal is simply a matter of perspective, of viewing the infidelity through a different lens. She calls an affair a "wake-up call". Yet most of us who've experienced it see it less as a wake-up call than repeated kicks to the head by someone wearing steel-toe boots.
And the commenters clearly do, too.
It's painfully clear which of those commenting are still raw from the incredible sting of betrayal. You can almost hear their wavering voices, angry at what they deem a thoughtless post that dismisses their pain and desperate for someone to acknowledge it.
And having someone acknowledge that pain is, I believe, a critical part of healing.
Like any tragedy in life, we need a witness. Someone who nods their head and agrees with us that, indeed, it happened. And it was terrible. But who also stands as a reminder that from tragedy can come triumph. That tragedy can, sometimes, be a wake-up call. Albeit an excruciating one.
The evolution of tragedy to triumph can only occur if we're willing to loosen our grip on the pain. To no longer hold on to it like a security blanket but to let it go and open ourselves to what comes next. It's a bizarre bit of human nature that we'll often hold on to negative emotion that's familiar than risk another emotion that's not. Healing can feel absolutely out of control. It's not a straight trajectory but rather a slow spiral upwards with occasional slips back. And it can be terrifying.
I've been aware lately that I'm holding my husband's betrayal in front of me like a shield. And behind that is a fear that if I let go of it (which feels uncomfortably like letting him "off the hook"), it'll happen again. As a result, I feel the need to constantly keep it front of mind because then I can control it. Well...guess again, Elle. That control is a total illusion. And it's keeping me locked in a position of defining myself by the tragedy not the triumph.
I'm ready to let go of it. While I refuse to acknowledge that it's ever the cheated-upon spouse's responsibility to keep the other faithful, I'm taking responsibility for my own healing. A healing that's hampered by holding on to the betrayal like a fun-house mirror, constantly reflecting back at my husband what a bastard he was and how lucky he is that I haven't tossed his sorry ass on the streets. Though I haven't said those exact words (at least, not in a long while), the sentiment is there, clear to both of us.
Tragedy to triumph. That's where we headed. And with each of us acknowledging the others' pain and giving all of us the freedom to move forward.

While this site, I believe, can play a role in each of us feeling less alone, I'm increasingly aware that we also need flesh-and-blood people in our lives to witness our pain. Well-intentioned friends who respond with hard-nosed advice ("kick him out" or "it's time to get over it") are generally not too helpful. Try and find someone – anyone – who can witness your pain: therapist, friend, pastor, support group, spouse. And please post your story here. It can help you loosen your grasp on the pain to get it out and onto paper.