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| Take flight, my friends. |
It’s happened. D-Day. We’ve somehow or other discovered the
excruciating truth that our spouse has been having an affair. Like many of you,
I immediately took the blame. Something must have been entirely wrong with me
or he would not have strayed. We believe all his complaints about not being
giving enough, not being sexually available, not being a better something, or
whatever blame-shifting he engaged with. We now know that’s all bull but at
the time we were desperate for any clues, any hint as to why this might happen
and what we could do to fix it. We wanted some way, no matter how painful, of
taking control of the situation. Sadly, accepting blame is a way to take
control because if it is our fault, then we can change; we can be better, do
more, be perfect and it will be fixed and we won’t hurt anymore. This often
leads us to the “Pick Me Cha-Cha” (aka the Pick Me Dance).
During the Pick Me Dance we do things that seem to make
sense at the time but in hindsight make us shake our heads, cringe, wonder
and feel some regret. How could I have been so crazy? Why did I want sex all
the time? Why did I buy that outfit? I want to flip that script and show you
how the Pick Me Dance is part of the healing process and can put you on the
road to the realization that the only person who needs to pick you is you.
As I look back at my Pick Me Dance, I don’t feel regret. Rather, I look with a great deal of compassion and see that I was
taking tentative steps toward self-care in those “him focused” actions. As I
list some of the funny and sad things I did and reframe them as learning
opportunities or ways to carve a new self out of the rubble, I hope you’ll see
yourself too. I can look back at myself
in those early difficult days with compassion, humor and amazement at how far
I’ve come.
1.
Piles of sexy new underwear and bras
Zero regrets. I had felt unsexy
forever and had not bought new underwear in what seems like a decade. If I did,
it was all about comfort. As I lost weight, I needed to buy new pairs or they
would have ended up around my ankles. And guess what, a thong makes your ass
look great in jeans. Now I have a nice mix of comfy for every day or working
out and sexy for dates or just when I need to give myself an ego boost. I’ve
claimed what started out as an attempt to be sexy enough to compete with the OW
and turned it into claiming sexy for myself. It feels pretty good.
2.
Bikinis and nicer clothes, dresses
Ditto here. My clothes had all
been about covering up, disguising my body and generally making myself
disappear. Now I bought clothes that I looked and felt good in. I even got a
couple of pairs of booty shorts for running. And bikinis were a big step. (Yes,
I have cellulite and no matter how thin I get, I have a curvy, zaftig tum). But
while the clothes started out as a response to him complaining that I made no
effort to look good, they ended as an act of defiance and treating myself as if
I matter. Now I enjoy dressing to highlight my best features. I’ve got great
arms and collar bones. Decent legs too. Sun dresses all the way! Taking pride
in your appearance is not about vanity. It is about showing that you value
yourself.
3.
Wearing makeup, dressing nicer, showering every
day
Again, his complaint was that I
had “let myself go” and I made no effort over my appearance. Thing is, he
wasn’t wrong. It was shitty of him to bring it up in the context of why HE felt
neglected in the relationship. But. I had let myself go. I felt too much shame
about my appearance, my body, my perceived failure at everything to try very
hard. I wanted to be invisible because I did not love who I was. Post D-Day, I
recognized that I needed muster up the courage to shower and brush my teeth
every day. This was the tiniest recognition that I needed to take care of
myself for the coming weeks and months. Wearing makeup, while initially an
effort to please him, also made me feel more confident when I left the house,
at a time when my confidence was completely shattered. People responded
positively to me, my smile and my energy. Over time, I claimed this as
something I do for myself. And I don’t need to wear makeup every time I leave
the house (conversation with my daughter woke me up about that). I can now
choose when it I want to, and I promise, it is no longer about him.
4.
Purchasing an online coaching program for women
to “Be Irresistible”
This one is probably the most
embarrassing but I look back at tender-hearted, sad me and recognize that I
was casting about for something, anything that might let me save my marriage or
increase the likelihood of him picking me. This was a series of videos and articles that help you become a man
magnet, to become irresistible. Some of the marketing was
questionable but as it turns out when you sift the “attracting men” part out
of it, there was some quality instruction (that I turned into a post on here
about working on you). I learned new ways to listen, reflect and engage in
conversation that showed I was interested in paying attention. I use this new
skill often with friends, with my business clients, as well as boys, and it
pays off in better connections. It also gave me my first understanding of
developing and focusing on my strengths and having a rich life, so I can
confidently stand on my own because confidence is attractive. So despite the fact that I am now on a
mailing list where they encourage me to purchase their secret string of texts
that will have him melting with desire for me, I got some really useful life
skills out of this package.
5.
Fat reduction injections, Laser hair removal,
Botox and collagen
Yes I really did all those
things. I had been told I had given up, was not fighting aging (never mind that
I didn’t see the inherent futility and problem of fighting what is inevitable
for us all. These days I’m all about healthy and graceful aging and what feels
right for me). I was already engaged with a weight-loss program pre-D-Day. (I
knew something was terribly, terribly wrong, so in some ways I jumped into the
Pick Me Dance early). The program
involved HCG (Human chorionic gonadotropin
– same as you release when you are pregnant) injections. It also involves an
extremely restricted diet. It cost a lot of money. But I was desperate after
years of failed weight loss and knew I needed to lose weight to start to feel
better about myself. Cue the ironic trumpet fanfare.
The weight loss has been good for
me. My cholesterol numbers are way down. I feel better. I did have 50 lbs to
lose. I do regret the waste of money but since we were still sharing income at
the time, I don’t lose any sleep over it. Verdict is HCG has nothing to do with
weight loss. Not eating (and PTSD) has everything to do with weight loss.
Laser hair removal. Zero Regrets.
Not one. I did a series of sessions for my bikini zone and my underarms. I frequently
had razor burn in those areas in the past. After about seven sessions, the hair
is gone (it will be different for different hair types). I only shave my
armpits once a month now and then it is very fine. Bikini zone? Gone
forever. While I was doing this, I was absolutely
thinking “dammit, I’m gonna be hot for you, jerkface, or I am going to be hot
for some future guy who actually values me.” (Note the defiance creeping in.)
Collagen I did once. Very minimal
amounts under my eyes in folds around the nose and mouth and a tiny bit in the
lips (I did not want that Hollywood, “I’ve been making out with a hot curling
iron” look.) I have to admit, I loved the results. But. The cost was prohibitive. I spent a pile
on a couple of vials (his money). And you need so little, my dermatologist has
a safe where your vials are kept and you can get more done for up to two years
or until you use it up. My results were long-lasting, however, I know I can
save up and do it again if I want to or not if I don’t.
Botox. I am a huge fan. I have
been getting injections since my early 40s. I think it makes a difference in
how your face ages. It is totally safe (been used to treat migraines for
decades before cosmetic use) and reasonably priced. My trade off is that I
don’t color my hair. Money, chemicals, stress, roots grow in in three
weeks. Getting Botox once every six months
costs significantly less than getting my hair colored every month. How does
this fit in to the Pick Me Dance? It was part of trying to be younger than I am
in response to his criticism. It shifted when I made a commitment to myself not
to give this up if things went south. The idea that I deserved to do something
nice for myself was revolutionary at the time.
6.
Sex toys & initiating sex often
Ok, sad, but I know we’ve all
done it in some form. We try to turn ourselves into a sex pot to win him back. Wore
outfits that showed copious amounts of cleavage and leg. Extremely naughty
panties (still in the package). I tried often to initiate sex and except for
the immediate week after D-Day, he always turned me down. It was tough to take.
But the vibrator turned out to be a path toward reclaiming my sexuality. I had
felt unlovable and unsexy for so long. And again, defiance rears it’s head. I
realized on some level that this was going to be a long haul and I needed to
get comfortable taking care of my own needs if he wasn’t. I am so much more
comfortable with my body, sex, what feels good for me and asking for it when I
am with a partner. Health stuff.
7.
Exercise
I was working out to be in better
shape, more attractive, compete with the other woman, be whatever enough for
him to stay. But it also kept me sane. Getting out to classes was social and
connected me with new people. Running on my own cleared my head. Solitary
weight lifting cleared the pain and grief out of my body. Social hikes
connected me with people. And now I know it is critical for my mental health.
The more I move, the happier I am. I keep moving for me now.
8.
Cooking elaborate meals, buying gifts, leaving
flowers, little notes
I had read Love Languages. I was
trying any and every thing I could to reach him. Acts of service by cooking
elegant and delicious meals; buying him nice clothes or things
he needed on business trips; and words of affirmation by leaving him little
notes in his desk, wallet or suitcase when he traveled. I left him little
flowers or sprigs of herbs from the garden. I sent him pictures of home when he
was away for work. I tried so many ways to show him what he was risking
losing. I won’t say none of it mattered.
It mattered to me that I tried. It was also the beginning of me understanding
that no matter what I did or didn’t do now or in the past, this was really
about him, his issues, his acting out his pain and his fears and damage. Over
time I shifted to doing these things for myself. Affirmations written on notes
on my mirror where I can see them, cooking foods I like (or ordering sushi!),
setting a little money aside each month to save up for something to gift myself
( a drone for photography – my big hobby, or a new grill, a nice piece of
jewelry – currently obsessed with rings).
9.
Music/art lessons
One of the things I had read
about recovering from trauma in the many helpful and sometimes ridiculous
articles and books I read about saving a marriage, was to just start doing
things differently, start deciding, start doing things, pursue a new hobby, do
something out of character and out of your comfort zone, make a different
choice and change your brain (I normally take this route home. Today I a going
to take a different route. Today I am going to stop and take pictures. Next
week I will drive into the city for a flea market). I took up painting classes.
At first it was about showing him that I was growing, investing in myself and
“interesting” i.e worth keeping. It
quickly became an important creative and emotional outlet for me. It was social
and got me out to meet new people. I also took up piano lessons. Music has
always been his thing; singing and playing guitar. I took piano lessons with
the instructor who already came to the house for my daughter. I wanted to show
an interest in his interests and maybe give us an opportunity to play together
at some distant point. Sweet but so wasted on him. I loved learning
and got some basics pretty quickly. Thought I can’t afford regular lessons, I do
barter with the instructor in exchange for working on her website. Now I
practice when I need a mental break from my desk. I know it is something I can
come back to for the rest of my life.
10. A
tattoo
This was another face of doing
something new and out of character. There was a huge element of “look how edgy
and sexy I am.” But it was also about me, my spiritual journey and reclaiming
my body from past and present trauma. I had identified birds as my messengers
in grim times. I used to meditate on the different winged visitors to see what
they had to teach me. And one day I lined up a bird in flight as my heart
breaking up out of my chest and free. For the first time ever, I thought “that
would make a cool tattoo.” I found art I admired, did an adaptation, sat with
it for a month, made an appointment, waited another month and finally when the
day for the tattoo appointment rolled around, felt excited and ready. Getting a
tattoo on the ribs is pretty painful. It’s high up, so most people never see it.
It is a little sparrow (my symbol of hope) flying up out from my ribs under my
left arm. By the time I got the tattoo,
it was 100% about me and my journey.
Most of us do some form of the Pick Me Dance. I hope you can
look back at your own actions during that painful time with love and
compassion. Mentally wrap that version of you in a warm hug. Then see if you
can reframe any of those things as I have. What did you learn? How did it
evolve for you? How are you now Picking You instead of waiting for him to do
so?
