Our Dark Teachers

I call these experiences our dark teachers. The lessons that hurt, scare, scar, wound, and almost destroy us are very often the things that make us who we are because they require us to muster what we thought we could not muster—courage, compassion, kindness, forgiveness, love, resilience, strength, generosity of spirit, ferocity of heart. The times we feel lost are the times that require us to find our way. The deepest losses often lead us to our most profound gains. 

–Cheryl Strayed, from: It’s From Darkness That Everything Grows, Dear Sugar Letter #2. Originally published on December 31, 2020

I don't blame you if you want to reach into your computer screen and punch me in the nose. It can be infuriating to hear that old chestnut "what doesn't kill you makes you strong" when you don't want to be strong or nearly dead or half alive. When you just want your life back before you learned that the person you trusted most with your heart had shattered it. 

But bear with me. Because whether or not you're ready to hear this, I want you to store it somewhere in your exhausted brain to pull out on those days when you don't think you can stand another second of this pain. I want you to know that, as Cheryl Strayed puts it, "it's from darkness that everything grows." 

Well, maybe not everything. But many, many good things. Like courage and compassion and kindness and forgiveness. Love, strength, ferocity of heart. 

Here I am, just weeks past my 28th wedding anniversary, 18 years past my D-Day. I have the long view. And whether or not you stay with your partner or leave, whether or not you rebuild your relationship with him or stick to rebuilding your relationship with yourself, you will — as long as you work through the pain and don't let it fester and rot your soul — come to the day when you, too, have the long view and can see the beauty of what you built in the ashes. 

My kids are adults now. They have friends who've been cheated on, friends who've done the cheating. And they are utterly certain that they will never stay with someone who cheats. That they will never cheat. 

I was that certain, once. 

I have a hunch we all were.

But now we know. 

That life isn't always so clear. That there are circumstances that keep us in place even if every part of our being wants to flee. Or circumstances that cause us to flee when every part of our being wants to stay. 

I hope my children never do have to experience infidelity in any way, though I know that statistically, one or more of them likely will. 

And if not infidelity, I know that life will bring them to their knees one way or the other. A sick child, a job loss, a terrible diagnosis. None of us emerges without our scars.

But let's note again just what is forged in that darkness if we let it: courage, compassion, kindness, forgiveness. Love, resilience, strength, generosity of spirit, ferocity of heart.

May that be yours.

Maybe not today. But soon. 

Re-Empower Yourself with One Simple Question

Betrayal sucks the life right out of you. But I've noticed the difference between betrayed wives that quickly get back on their feet (not me, mind you. I took months...and anti-depressants!) and those that floundered often long after their marriage ended and even into new relationships, always comes down to one simple question.
And the question is this: What can I do about this?
So often we disempower ourselves. We wonder what we did wrong. Or what's inherently wrong with us. What we could have done differently. What the OW has that we don't. And on and on, until we're a quivering mess that feels scarcely entitled to use up someone else's oxygen.
And then there are the others. Those women who recognize from the get-go that cheating says a whole lot more about the other people involved than the blissfully unaware wife. The women who, though they might have moments of doubt and fear and anxiety, quickly realize that the only way to survive a spouse's affair is to assert their power. How?
By asking that one simple question: What can I do about this?
And let me tell you, if you think there's nothing you can do...you're absolutely wrong. There's always something you can do that honors and empowers you.
Even if you're financially unable to leave. Even if you have a newborn baby attached to your breast and four others underfoot. You can still ask the question. And come up with an answer that gives you your power back.
What can you do about this?
You can leave. Or you can start a savings account to enable you to leave at a point in the future. Or you can go back to school to gain skills to allow you to enter the workforce. Or you can rediscover a hobby that helps you find your center. Or you can start walking to lose weight, gain health and feel better about yourself. You can meet with a lawyer. You can meet with a therapist. You can find a support group. You can start a support group.
What's so empowering is that none of these options rely on your husband or ex-husband to do anything. He can go on being a cheating ass or he can claim the title of Reformed Husband of the Year. Either way, you're going to be okay. Because you've asked the question.
What can I do about this?

The Bounce-Back Book

I came across this breezy little slide show on Oprah.com, offering up pithy wisdom on how to bounce back from pain. While I'm not convinced that sleeping while facing North would have made much difference to my D-Day recovery (I was having enough trouble sleeping at all!!), most of the tips can create a deeper change than you'd expect.
The thing is, when we're drowning in pain, someone suggesting we take a vacation, or "turn over a new belief" or "think like a lion" strikes us as a crack-smoking simpleton.
Yet it's these small choices we make, barely perceptible to those around us, that move us from our quick-sand existence onto solid ground.
Check it out! You might be surprised.

Can a cheater truly empathize?

You could be forgiven for thinking that just about any married man is it seems...ummm....less than commited to his wife. While Hollywood is notorious for its short-lived marriages, it would be nice to see evidence that there are some good guys out there.

Alas, the latest to reveal his extracurriculars is David Letterman. Apologizing to his wife on-air, he notes that she's been "terribly hurt"...not to mention, I assume, humiliated, betrayed, devastated, etc. etc.

But his primary focus – indeed the catalyst for his public admission – was because of the extortion attempt against him. And it brings to the fore an issue that most betrayed wives face: the betrayer rarely really "gets" it. Sure they know in the abstract that we've been hurt by their actions. They see the tears. They dodge our nasty remarks. The remorseful ones do their best to empathize; the cads tell themselves it's no wonder they cheated given how emotional and unstable we are. But few will ever know what it really feels like.

Which makes recovering from betrayal doubly lonely. I've often heard people experiencing cancer describe it in similar terms. Sure, we can all imagine what it might be like to be given that diagnosis. But until we've actually heard it, we'll never really know the terror, the incredulity, the evaporation of a future we thought we could count on.

For many of the Betrayed Wive's Club, we've found comfort in being with those who truly do know what it's like. Who remember cringing at thoughtless jokes about adultery. Who've walked out of movies that made them trigger about their own pain. Who've...been there.

In the next few weeks, I'll be introducing the rest of the "team". I hope, like we have, you'll find solace in our community. That you'll share your experience and trust that you won't be judged. This is a safe place to let down your guard and begin to heal. And, I promise, no-one's betrayal will become late-night TV fodder. Another wife forced to publicly wear her pain...