Guest Post: What One Year Has Taught Me

by Chinook

Exactly one year ago today, I found some texts on my husband’s phone that just didn’t make sense. That moment was a knife that sliced my life apart. Before. After.

Elle calls them “anti-versaries” and I have spent some time over the past few weeks wondering how I wanted to spend this terrible first anti-versary day. Champagne with girlfriends? Spa day on my own? Something romantic with the new guy I’m seeing? (Spoiler alert: It’s my husband.)

Then a few days ago, a woman in terrible pain left a message on this site asking for help, and it was like a dam bursting: Everything I had to say in response to the questions she asked came flooding out in a thunderous torrent. Today, my first anti-versary, I am posting it for you to read.

None of this is advice. None of this is prescriptive. I just find it sometimes helps to know what other people see from their side of the table. This is what I have lived through. These are the lessons it has taught me so far. May it be of use to you.

#1. ANGER.

When the shock wore off (which took about 12 hours), I didn’t just have anger, I had violent rage. Violent. Rage. A spirit animal — a bird of fire — came and inhabited my body. I packed a bag and walked out, leaving my husband with our two little children and with no indication of when or if I’d be back. My anger was so furious that separation was the safest thing for both of us. That’s when my husband realized just how catastrophic his choices were. That was his rock bottom.

Thank God for that anger. The anger is what carried me through. 

But in short order, anger becomes toxic. After three days, I could feel the rage starting to poison me, so I thanked the Fire Bird and invited it to go inhabit the next woman whose life had cracked open and who was in danger of falling into the abyss. I returned to my life to start sorting things out. The anger remained with me for a long time, and sometimes it did flare into rage, but from that point on, I made a conscious choice to not let it take root in my heart. 

Anger begets anger. And I did not want to become an angry person.

#2. PAIN. 

The pain was more intense than any pain I have ever felt. I gave birth without an epidural or any kind of pain control, and I swear, this was the same level of pain, but sustained. For weeks.

That pain shattered the person I was, which made way for the person I became.

#3. SURVIVING MINUTE TO MINUTE. 

In those early days, the book “When Things Fall Apart” by Pema Chödrön was recommended to me by a friend. It changed everything. It taught me that instead of running from my pain, I should sit with it and see what it had to teach me. 

I took Pema Chödrön’s advice and, when I suddenly looked up at a random moment to see a tsunami of grief crashing down on me, I entered the texture of the moment, and breathed. I noticed the color of the sky, the shape of the leaves, the texture of my child’s hair, the softness of the pillows at my side. I stayed in the moment. Breathed. Gradually, the pain would lessen. It was terribly difficult but I persisted. And every time the tsunami bore down on me anew, it was slightly smaller.

This is how I survived the pain.

#4. THE MOST TRAUMATIZING THING OF ALL.

In some desperate bid to stuff the genie back in the bottle, my husband lied about the extent of his affair every day for weeks. He would swear he had told me the whole truth (which was a lie), only for me to find some credit card statement that didn’t make sense, or some app on his phone with data that seemed off. Confronted, realizing he had no escape, he would cop to this new piece of information, triggering a panic attack in me. “But this is it!” he would swear. “I’ve told you everything now!” 

But he never had. It was like having the floor shift beneath my feet. Like vertigo. “Trickle truth” is the quaint term for this, or even “staggered reveal”. But really, it’s just ongoing betrayal and  it was far more traumatizing than the affair itself.

I had heard of the term “post-traumatic stress” before. I had not yet heard of the term “post-traumatic growth”.

#5. WHAT COURAGE LOOKS LIKE.

As a society, by and large, we only value loud courage, the action hero kind of courage. Punching. Shouting. Kicking him out. Calling a lawyer. Going it alone. 

We don’t value (or even recognize) the silent kinds of courage. The courage to find compassion for yourself and others. The courage to really feel the pain. The courage to use that pain as rocket fuel to power extraordinary growth. The courage to shield our children. The courage of grace. The courage to become our own alchemists, spinning our grief into golden wisdom.

I know so many wise women. Every single one of them has known deep pain.

#6. MAKING THE HARD, HEALTHY CHOICES. 

After the first few weeks of shock and body-shaking sobbing and furious anger, I realized that I would have to actively rewire my brain to prevent all my unhealthy thoughts and feelings from creating entrenched neural pathways. I knew the anger would poison me. I knew that trolling the other woman’s social media would make me hurt more. I knew that drinking a bottle of wine every night was just making things worse. I knew that the more I thought “poor me”, the more self-pity would feel natural.

And so, I forced myself to make the hard, healthy choices. When the angry thoughts came in, I actively blocked them. When angry feelings erupted, I deliberately calmed my heart rate. When self-pity gripped me, I forced myself to feel gratitude. When I wanted to check the other woman’s Instagram, I opened a fast-paced fiction novel instead. 

I forced myself to make these choices. Forced. It was an act of will. And for a long time, it felt like it wasn’t helping at all. I was still so angry. I was still so consumed by the injustice of it all. I still obsessed over the other woman. But I kept on doing it. 

Now, a year later, my mind and heart are peaceful places in which I want to spend time.

#7. WHAT HURT(S) THE MOST.

Unlike many women I’ve heard from, I knew — knew in my gut — that something was wrong as he was starting the affair. Our marriage was in bad shape despite the years of effort I’d been making but even at that, I felt something shift. I forced us into marriage counseling and it turns out that my instincts were bang on. He booked their first date, thus starting the affair, the same day as our first marriage counseling session. 

I even asked him point-blank one night if he was having an affair. He denied it all, vociferously, and used our therapy sessions to make me think I was imagining things. But I never gaslit myself. I knew something was wrong. 

His affair “only” lasted two months and the physical component was “only” a week long and, if he has finally told me the whole truth (will I ever stop wondering?), never quite made it to being sexual (and yes, I’m defining that term in the broadest possible sense). But it wasn’t the fact that he made out with her multiple times or came close to sleeping with her once. It’s the fact that he made dinner reservations for her, not me. That he sent joking emails to her, not me. That he invited her to go hiking with him, not me. And all the while I was staying home with the two kids, unwittingly facilitating his affair. 

It hurts even now. The hurt reminds me to keep my boundaries where they belong, and to value my preternatural gut feeling over the words of anyone else.

#8. WHO TO TELL.

I know this is unusual but I didn’t make a secret of the fact that I was going through the discovery of having been cheated on. Don’t get me wrong; I didn’t advertise it. But I didn’t hide it for two reasons. The first is because I felt no shame whatsoever—my husband was the one who behaved abominably, not me. Why would I help shield him from being humiliated? Also, I knew I would need people supporting me, and that those people needed to know the truth. In the very, very beginning, I reached out to two women I barely knew that I knew had been cheated on, seeking their advice. I wouldn’t have had those people to turn to if I didn’t know they had been cheated on.

I also instinctively wanted to be a part of the ranks of women who destigmatize subjects like infidelity, which seems to disproportionately hurt women. And if I could help disabuse anyone of the bullshit notion that cheating is something they can do on the sly without hurting anyone, good. 

Now, maybe I can be that for someone else who is as desperate as I was.

#9. HOW MY COMMUNITY REACTED.

My friends were and continue, a year later, to be so supportive, which really speaks to their characters. The whole experience confirmed that I have surrounded myself with a network of extraordinary women who are smart and strong, who understand and embrace the sticky messiness of life, and who will respect and support me whether I stay or go. It also confirmed how remarkable the men and women who are spouses to these friends of mine are. They are people who value self-knowledge and are compassionate and kind.

I have one very close friend who seemed a bit bewildered by the notion that I might not immediately want to divorce my husband. She is the very definition of tact and support, so I could be wrong in my interpretation — she never said anything. But this friend has continued to support me with a very open mind and seems genuinely curious about the whole process. 

My extended family and his extended family were also remarkable. 

But my parents... When things fell apart, I literally couldn’t function. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t work, and could not take care of my children. I was in crisis. I really, really, really needed someone to physically come in and take care of me and my kids for a while. My parents could have done it but for reasons I am still struggling to understand, chose not to. (My very closest friends would have done it if they could, but they all have young children and jobs of their own to juggle.)

So, who did step up to take care of me when I was incapacitated? Here’s where it gets weird. It was my husband, the man whose selfishness put me in that state. 

Looking back on it, that was what first made me consider the possibility of staying.

#10. WHY DID HE DO IT?

Thanks to the work of feminists and relationship experts like Esther Perel (and Elle, although I didn’t know her work at the time), I knew long before I was on the receiving end of infidelity that affairs are 100% because of the cheater and their issues, and 0% because of anything that has to do with the person they are cheating on. I read somewhere that being cheated on is like getting mugged. The only person who causes a mugging is the mugger.

In our case, my husband had an affair because he wanted to escape the problems in our marriage. Ironically, those problems existed largely because of him. A whole lot of crap from his horrible childhood, which he had never had the courage to deal with, suddenly overwhelmed him for reasons I won’t get into. Instead of being brave and facing the crap and accepting that he needed help to deal with it, my husband chose a random opportunity to create a double-life. In that alternate life, he had no responsibilities and therefore nothing to deal with.

I had been working diligently and patiently for years to try and make our marriage better but it turns out that the more effort I put in, the less he felt like he needed to try, and the more he felt entitled to take, take, take. Ain’t that a kick in the teeth? When I discovered his affair, my boundaries came roaring back into place and my healthy sense of entitlement came roaring back. I could literally hear the roaring in my ears as they came back from wherever I had shoved them down to over the years of self-sacrifice.

Those boundaries are all still firmly in place. And they will never budge again.

#11. WHY HER?

Again, thanks to the work of relationship experts like Esther Perel, I knew from the beginning that my husband’s affair wasn’t because I lacked something. I’m an awesome catch. When I started to learn about the other woman, it became clear to me that she was inferior to me in every way I care about: she is less educated, less accomplished, less independent, less self-aware, less ambitious, less beautiful, less wise, less worldly, less well travelled, less confident, nowhere near as well-read… The only things she had going for her were youth (and the lack of obligations that goes along with it) and a higher fitness level (see above re: youth and lack of obligations). And that was the whole point for my husband. He WANTED someone inferior to me because he liked how it made him feel better about himself.

Was I making him feel bad about himself in our marriage? Hell, no. I thought he was awesome and sexy and a fantastic dad, and I told him so all the time. The voice that made him feel inferior wasn’t coming from me, it was coming from inside himself.

So, what did the other woman have? As Elle wisely says: nothing I want. She is damaged. She lacks confidence. She is willing to not ask too many questions about why the older guy she’s dating still seems to be living with his wife and kids despite his claims that they were separating. Do I want to be like her? Of course not. 

The other thing that made him choose her is convenience. She flirted with him. She was available. She was there. And would I ever want a man to choose me primarily because I’m there? Duh. No.

When I start to forget any of this, I picture the other woman as a bug that I am flicking off my sleeve.

#12. PITYING VS. HATING THE OTHER WOMAN. 

Some people say you shouldn’t hate the other woman but rather pity her. I say do both! She was instrumental in nearly effing up my children’s lives by wrecking their family. Of courseI hate that bitch. 

That pathetic, pitiable bitch.

#13. DOESN’T SHE CARE THAT SHE RUINED MY FAMILY?

I had a few fantasies of the other woman’s devastation as she realized how much damage she had done. But would she actuallyfeel devastated? Nope. Because if she did care, she wouldn’t have done it. 

Only a person who is completely messed up could justify damaging another person in this way. I take solace in the fact that although I may be in pain, I am not messed up.

#14. STAYING FOR THE KIDS. 

I am surprised at how rarely I read about kids factoring into people’s decisions to give a cheating spouse a second chance or not. Perhaps it is a rebuttal of the sexist mantra that women should stay in a marriage at all costs for the sake of the children. 

Had we not had children I would have ended things immediately. But we do. 

And it turns out I would do anything for my kids. Including explore the possibility of a new relationship with a man who hurt me but is truly remorseful, truly willing to atone, and truly wanting to become a healthier person.

#15. WHAT WILL OTHER PEOPLE THINK?

Personally, I believe they’ll think whatever you want them to. 

Here’s why.

Most people just don’t care that much about other people’s lives. So, you don’t have to worry about them. 

Some people want to think that other people are dumb and wrong because it makes them feel better about themselves. You don’t have to worry about them, either, because they’re going to judge you for literally everything. Unfollow them on Facebook, cross them off your Christmas card list, dust your hands off and move on.

Then there are the people who don’t know what to think. For those people, you take a page out of Beyoncé’s book and make yourself the hero of your story. Tell the story of your strength, your courage, your grace. 

Even if the only person you are telling this story to is yourself, when others meet you, they will feel that they are in the presence of a warrior.

#16. YOU GET TO CHOOSE THE WORDS.

As a writer, words are extremely important to me. The words “taking him back” make me feel really uncomfortable. They just don’t reflect my experience. Because “him” – the man who cheated on me – is more or less gone at this point. Instead, over the past year of rocket-fuel-pain-powered growth, my husband has become someone amazingly different. That’s why I prefer these words instead: 

I am seeing if the person I have become might want to have a new marriage with the person he has become.