Drawing the Line: A Post-Betrayal Post About Boundaries

December holds my D-Day #1. So it's with some trepidation that I plan for the holidays each year. Even though I'm eight years out (!!!) and even though I have trouble remembering if it was December 10 or December 11, I'm still conscious around those dates of just where I was those years ago. And of how much has changed.
So often I tell the women who've found their way to this site that they will get through this. I'm not sure they believe me. I'm not sure I would have believed me. The wound is simply so gaping, the pain so deep that few of us believe we'll ever find our way back to a place of wholeness.
And yet, I was reminded this year of just how far I've come. Even beyond healing from my husband's infidelity. I'm happier than I think I've ever been. A deep-down, through-hell-and-back happiness that is richer for the knowledge that I fought hard for it.
Case in point: My brother-in-law is a jerk. This is pretty much universally acknowledged by all who know him. His family, however, which includes my husband, traffic in denial. Not about his jerkiness. But about how his jerkiness affects other people. Like me, for instance. I learned long ago that my husband's knee-jerk response around his family was to attack anyone who notices that they're somewhat less than the perfect family. When I first pointed out that the emperor wasn't only naked, he was an asshole, I was told that I was the problem.
Thing is, pre-D-day, I bought into that fiction to some extent. I was "too sensitive". I didn't "understand". His mother, who could be cruel, was raised during the Depression after all (of course, so were my grandparents and they didn't feel the need to shame and judge others). She had been an immigrant. His father and mother had been poor. The version of his family's story that we were all asked to buy was that they had it harder than anyone else and the world, therefore, needed to excuse their often nasty behaviour.
I tried. After all, I was sensitive. And I had long ago convinced myself that if something is MY problem, then I can fix it; if it's somebody else's, then all hell might break loose. (Thank-you alcoholic parents for that life lesson!)
And then D-Day hit. And suddenly I was given an entirely different version of his family's story. This one rang a whole lot more true. Stories of abuse. Stories of deception. A family environment that bred dishonesty and compulsion.
Turns out that my sensitivity was one helluva an early-warning system. I had felt on high-alert around these people because I wasn't safe with them.
Slowly, as I've healed from both my D-Days, and as my husband has healed from his childhood, I've let his family back into my life.
But when his brother this past holiday started with his misogyny, when he tried to excuse his racist ideas, when he tried to make me "be quiet and listen", I stood up. No, I said. I don't agree with you, I said.
The next day, I made the decision that I will not entertain someone whose views are so offensive to me, so contrary to what my children know, so dismissive of anyone who's different than he is.
And rather than feel angry and invisible and silenced, like I would have felt eight years ago, I felt giddy. This was MY choice. I get to decide who I spend my time with. I get to determine who I welcome into my home.
It's my husband's brother and, despite everything, my husband loves this idiot. So I will never forbid him from entering our home. But next year, if we decide to invite him and his family (which we might – his kids and mine are cousins, after all), I will order Chinese food, throw some plates on the table and then take my dogs for a walk. Happy holidays. Enjoy your kung pao chicken.
All this is a long way of saying that what I've learned through all of this is that it's not my job to make others comfortable. It's not my job to take care of everyone. It's absolutely not my job to silence my own instincts for the sake of peace. The price is simply too high.
It is my job to keep myself safe. It is my job to behave in a way within my marriage that doesn't lead to resentment. It is my job to treat myself with respect and allow only those who can treat me with respect into my life.
It's a lesson I've learned the hard way. But one I wouldn't trade for anything.

Guest Post: The Truth About Triggers or "Just When You Thought It Was Safe to Go on Vacation..."

by Steam

I got triggered a week or so ago for the first time in a long time.
I was in bed, exhausted from the holidays and my H told me the price of something we have been repairing and replacing on this house it seems every year.
I got angry and then immediately attributed my anger (who me snippy? moi?) to exhaustion.
But I was flipping out.
My voice didn't sound like my own. I sounded as if I was going through an exorcism. Or needed one.
I had no idea what was going on with me. I felt insane. And over the price of something?
It took me a few minutes to realize that this outburst was tethered to D-Day.

Triggers are insidious. They don't all point to the affair, they are not always a woman, or a glance in the wrong direction by your husband.

Sometimes you need to search for the connection. Which is what I did.

Instead of eating the anger, which is what I would have done a year ago, pre-betrayal. Instead of becoming silent and distant, knowing I would spend the day seething and marinating in my own pain and anger, which would seep out of every pore despite my insisting that everything was "just fine." Instead...I told him exactly what was going through my mind.
And as I told him that I did not want to spend "one more offing dime" on this project for the house, the anger turned to tears. When I started crying, well, that's when I knew I wasn't pissed about anything happening today. It sure wasn't the price – we could afford it.
It was a trigger. It was the residual pain surfacing.

I once read that anger is pain in disguise. Uncover the anger and show the pain the light of day. paid cannot thrive in the light, it seeks darkness and secrecy.
I walked a lot at night with my pain. Literally.

So what was this?
Well...last year those exact same repairs were underway right as my D-Day happened.
As I sat for two hours uncovering all the lies and all the women, shaking silently, glued to the computer, there were four perfect strangers working outside not 15 feet from me, seeing right into my window.
They were the ones who saw me first as I searched in silence...and then physically charged my husband when he walked through the door.
Although they spoke a different language, I am pretty sure that bitch, fucker, bastard, whore and "don't you fucking touch me!" translate easily into any language, especially when accompanied by flailing arms, a husband's pleading and a laptop held high over my head as I threatened to introduce it to the floor any second now.
I wailed, cussed, cried, threw things, rightly accused, screamed, crumpled, got up, screamed some more.
The other morning, with my husband's mention of the repairs, it all came flooding back.
It had arisen...and I had to keep it on the surface to deal with it when I really wanted to do was drown it.

So I kept it afloat.
Painful? In that moment, yes.
But the pain passed quickly as I observed the process, like it was happening to someone else.
This is where a lot of pain actually is – in the past but we have not dealt with it enough, even when we're certain we have.

Maybe have some tea ready and nice warm bath for its return because it might visit for a while.
Luckily, the visits will become shorter.
The kick in the gut becomes more like a pinch.

Just pay attention.
Don't ignore the pain. It feels like it's going to take over but really it just wants your attention.
Give it some...and then send it on its way.

Here's to 2015, all you wonderful women!

Forgiveness is the Wrong Word. How about "transformation"?

A recent radio program about the truth and reconciliation commission in South Africa got me thinking about the idea of forgiveness.
A woman, involved in the TRC related to apartheid told a reporter that she was able to come to a place of empathy for her former enemy because he had shown remorse and was as disgusted by his actions as others were. In that moment, she said, he stopped being an "other" and become "one of us".
Forgiveness, she said, was the wrong word. Instead, she called it "transformation".
That's what we're after, isn't it?
We aren't after apologies and promises, though they don't hurt if they're heartfelt. We're after the point where our husbands are as disgusted by what they did as we are. As disappointed in themselves.
We don't want them crippled by it, we want them inspired by it. To be better. To learn from this.
It's within that disgust and disappointment where transformation occurs. It's the place where the seed is planted in soil rich with the determination that allows them to choose another path. To be a better person.
I'm always a bit nervous when I use terms like "better" or "compassion" because it's too easy when you're the betrayed wife of an unfaithful spouse, to fall into the trap of believing yourself ethically superior. To position yourself as someone who would "never" do such a thing, who can't imagine making that choice.
And by doing that, we position our spouses as forever after an "other". Even if they use their painful choices to transform themselves, we nonetheless hold ourselves on the moral high ground.
But as our South African teacher is trying to explain to us, our goal is to invite the transgressor to be "one of us". To release any moral hold on him. To celebrate his transformation as integral to our own.
It's the only way, I believe, of creating a truly healthy relationship going forward. As long as we hold on to forgiveness as if it's a magic wand that only we are capable of using to wipe the slate clean, we remain in a power position, which puts our spouse in a subordinate spot. It's a relationship that's ultimately going to fail. Or at least fail to make each partner happy.
And though I believe that, as betrayed partners, we get to dictate the terms of healing because it is, after all, our healing, I nonetheless think it should be our goal to create space for our partners to become exactly that – our partners.
It's the only way to rebuild a relationship of equals. A relationship in which it's acknowledged that none of us is infallible. That even people deserving of our love can make incredibly hurtful choices.
It's the only way to achieve transformation. His and our own.

Cheating...ugh: Here's what you need to know

This is another post by BWC member Steam. As usual...she's nailed it.

If...
by Steam

If you are here, it probably has happened to you, maybe you just found out.

Well..there are some things you might not believe, but you need to know.

You are going to be okay and this was not your fault.
Okay?

Your husband may come around or he may not but you are going to be okay.
Not today,  probably not tomorrow but one day you will be okay. No, even better than okay.

You don't have to believe it, how can you believe it?  I remember how you feel.  

You feel that you will never get over this, never get through this, never ever ever. How can you?

But if you work with the pain and not against the pain eventually, eventually the pain will give up, having nothing to resist. Maybe pain eventually gets bored and moves along and something else, something better, will take its place, for the most part.

Little by little by little.

Pain does one thing better than anything else.
It breaks your heart wide open.

And there will be room for more and better and well-earned things. Rich beautiful things that belong in there, that might have been trying to get in there for a very long time but you thought your heart was full enough.

A heart can never be too full.

Good things can move into an open heart even if it is stomped on, bleeding and in pieces. Good and beautiful things help it piece back together. Stitch by stitch, second by second, tear by tear. 

It will heal.  

You will heal.

When you work out, your muscle tears a bit and it is rebuilt bigger and stronger, thanks to scar tissue. 

Your heart, I believe, metaphysically does something similar.

You don't feel it now, you only feel the burn but something is happening, something good.

Your fault? No. I don't care what you did. Unless you chose a woman, got her number, got an address, drove your husband over there, made him get an erection and then you inserted his penis somewhere in her body, you did NOT drive your husband to an affair.

Okay? Got that?

I don't care if you put on 50 pounds, let the house fall apart, ignored him, were a bitch, spent too much time at work, turned your attention to the kids, didn't shave your legs every day. Forgot to be his girlfriend and laugh at all his jokes.
You did not make him have an affair.
Maybe you thought you had the perfect relationship and you were both happy! 

Well that sure didn't make him have an affair!

What he should have done is talk to you. 

Sure, okay you should have been talking too.  

We all should have been talking, I am guilty as charged but we weren't talking, at least not about the right, important things.

You are in the same marriage as he is but you didn't cheat, right?

You are in the exact same marraige!
So your marriage did not drive anyone to an affair. 

You did not and I did not have the affair.
He did.
He chose it.
He should have talked to you but he chose not to.  

Nope. He took the easy way out to avoid talking.

Talking honestly is a LOT harder than pulling your pants down for a stranger.

Try it sometime, some time later – the honest talk part, not taking your pants off.

It's hard but you can do it because you are strong.

You had the strength and smarts to Google and find this place, to remember how to use a computer. You got off the floor. That was a good start.

You are so strong.

So, again, look at you!

You'll be ok and this was not your fault.

These are hard concepts, I know.  

And I don't know why it is so hard to get through our heads.  

But it's been said on this site before –  and in a million other places we did not know existed until right now in these terrible times of agony – we did not put a gun to our husband's head and force him to go have sex somewhere else.

The more you read, share discreetly and discover. The more you learn, the more you will see, and hopefully you will hear it from your husband...this was not your fault.

And no matter how you feel right now, my bet is, you don't feel good.

You don't have to believe it but try just a little

You will make it through and you will be okay.

And it was not your fault.

You had a heart big enough to love a flawed person.

So did he and hopefully he remembers that too.

And hopefully he tells you that when you get to talking honestly again or for the very first time.

I promise you. Work at it, work with it, and you will be okay.

Pain: Learning to shut the hell up

...Pain comes from the darkness
And we call it wisdom. It is pain.
~Randall Jarell, from 90 North

It can feel an affront, in the wake of discovering a spouse's betrayal, to be offered up platitudes. "We aren't given more than we can handle," we are told by well-meaning friends. "There's a reason for everything," we hear, knowing full well that the reason that particular armchair philosopher has in mind isn't that our husband is a morally-challenged idiot. Or, perhaps you're told, that within all this pain is wisdom. Um...gulp...that one might have been from me.
Nadia Bolz-Weber is a Lutheran "Pastrix" who has this to say about platitudes:

"...when I've experienced loss and felt so much pain that it feels like nothing else ever existed, the last thing I need is a well-meaning but vapid person saying that when God closes a door he opens a window. It makes me want to ask where exactly the window is so I can push him the fuck out of it."

Feel familiar?
Bolz-Weber goes on to explain, however, what she's figured out from working as a hospital chaplain, and being with people when they're in the worst pain of their lives – losing a child, a parent, a spouse:

 "...when...someone says something senselessly optimistic to you, it's about them. Either they want to feel like they can say something helpful, or they simply cannot allow themselves to entertain...pain, so instead they turn it into a Precious Moments greeting card.... As a chaplain, I felt that people really just needed me to mostly shut the hell up and deal with the reality of how painful it all is."

It's something so few of us understand about pain until we've experienced it ourselves. The cancer diagnosis. The death. The betrayal. And even then, some of us never learn. The continue to try and soothe us with well-meaning advice. Or quote-of-the-day wisdom.
Help, as my counsellor loved to remind me, is the sunny side of control. And control, many of us haven't quite yet learned, is what anxious people cling to because the alternative – that we're all just hanging on for dear life – is just too much to bear.
Those of us experiencing it right now? We don't expect others to fix it. We know they can't. But so much of the pain of betrayal is feeling as though we need to hide it.
Which is why those friends – in real life and in the virtual world – who can simply be with us in our pain are so valuable. They see us. Our pain is visible to them. And they respond not necessarily with advice (unless requested) but with compassion. They remind us gently that we won't always feel this way. They nudge us toward the tiniest bit of light.
As for me, I'll continue to write my experience. Some of what I've learned will sound like bullshit to you. Feel free to skip past it. As always on this site, take what works for you and leave the rest. There is no right or wrong way toward healing. There is only the way that takes each of us out of pain. If you want to share your own path, we're all ears.
Now I'll "shut the hell up" and listen.

Guest post: A Post-Betrayal Guide to Surviving the Holidays (or Just Surviving)

"Steam" often comments on posts and shares her hard-won wisdom with others on this site. She's got such compassion and common sense that I invited her to contribute more regularly. Here's her inaugural post:

There are many of us on this site who have been in this state of knowing what we know for many years; there are others, like me, approaching my first holiday season armed with a lot more sad knowledge than I had last Christmas. I am prepared in case I take a nosedive but I don't feel like I will.

It seems, though it might just be that I notice, that a lot of us find out about our spouse’s affair close to the holidays. Why, I don't know (there is a lot I don't know): new phones? New devices left unlocked? Too much holiday cheer leading to carelessness on the cheaters’ part or boldness on the part of the OW.

With a new year looming and, for many, without the “happy” to preface it, maybe it's time for a refresher course. Or for those just finding out…a how-to guide. Survival 101.

Not definitive, and your suggestions and thoughts are totally welcome.

You, in the moment of discovery, may stay focused in the moment, that moment your knees buckled and you ended up on the floor, or you opened your mouth but no sound came out and you quite literally could not breathe...or you may have immediately jumped to thoughts of your life alone, your first homicide (kidding) your 2^nd (kidding) and how you are going to make though it at all – so let’s just look at what you can do to get through right now, and then maybe one more day.

This is how it happened for me: My H had gone to the store and I needed to download photos onto the laptop we were sharing (as I spent most of my time with a tablet.) As my photos were downloading, many many others were quickly drawn from the laptop into the photo program I was using. Due to the nature of my H's business, none of them really shocked me –they were going by me at a rapid blur. It was logging onto my OWN Facebook page to post when a dropdown menu appeared with a name I had never seen before, and a saved password. That led me to snoop for the first time ever, in 14 years, only to find an e-mail under the same name also with a saved password. Wow, was he screaming to get caught or what?

I demanded, within one hour of finding out (longest hour of my life waiting for him to get back) that my H write ONE last e-mail to the woman he cheated with. Telling her that I knew (she didn't even think he had a GIRLFRIEND) and that this was OVER, he was deleting the e-mail account (which he did) and that I would have passwords to all of his accounts online (which I did). Ha! I'm writing like I did this all very rationally. I am leaving out my complete and utter insanity, profanity, slaps, threats of destruction of the laptop held high over my head.

Do Not Expect to Think Rationally

 What do you do if your husband is not ON HIS KNEES begging forgiveness, crying, swearing he never meant to hurt you, telling you he wasn't thinking clearly? I don't know. That was not my experience, but let’s just say, by the time he got home, I all but had his bags packed, I was ready to kick him out without a doubt. I had made arrangements in my head already that I would without a doubt, have carried out that day. I also would have taken his phone, work laptop and Kindle. 

This was a deal-breaker for me. It might not be for you. But if I thought for one second that he was going to spend one more minute online with her as he had that last two months, he was not going to do it while he was under the same roof as me.

What do you do then – what do you do after that first fitful night when you sleep or you don't, and the sun rises and you know it was – sigh – not just a bad dream.

I wish there was a one-size-fits-all fix.

I guess much of your survival depends on your situation.

Excuse yourself

Do you have kids? Is there ANYWAY at all you can fake the flu, and give them to a relative for a day or two? I really don't know because I am not a mother. 

Maybe being mom can help you feel grounded and give you something to keep you out of your head and all of those horrible thoughts that you cannot control.

If you have those thoughts, BTW, you are completely normal. 

I don't have kids, but I faked the flu anyway. I looked like HELL frozen and then boiled over. My eyes were puffy, there was no way to hide the history of tears and sleepless nights. So I said I had the flu. Everyone bought it.

I canceled New Year’s plans. I could not be festive.

Breathe

While I was breathing via hyperventilating, I really did have to stop and really breathe – those big breaths everyone tells you about? Take them. 

Do your best to count to 10 before lashing out because chances are good you are going to lash out. I was lucky if I got to 3, but at least it got me somewhere.

You might think about next week or six months from now but it's really not the time. You will have emotions you did not know you had in you and just making it through the day, or the next hour should be your biggest concern.

Read

You might want to stay away from the “once a cheater always a cheater” websites. I was angry as HELL and I could not even tolerate them THEN. I had enough anger to last my own lifetime and I did not need more. 

Avoid most 'reformed cheaters' websites, although you might be surprised at what you learn – that cheaters have a LOT of shame and remorse, they even take responsibility and don't blame their spouse but you might also read accounts of how much a cheater misses their co-cheater, and that's about the last thing you want to hear. You have enough fuel in your fire already. And watch out if you Google celebrity cheater’s names in the comments sections – EVERYONE has an opinion on EVERYTHING and it was probably, in the end, Obama or Bush's fault anyway. :o)

Download or buy a copy of “After theAffair” and start reading NOW.

Come to websites like this and realize you are NOT alone. It's amazing the compassion you might feel for others. It's nice to know you can feel something other than anger.

Write

Take your anger and do something with it, even if it means just writing it down. Journal your broken heart out...put that unanswerable question on there – the WHY in big bold letters. Maybe when you get your emotions down on paper they will come to you, the questions you really want to ask.

 This next one is going to seem impossible... 

Be nice to someone

I don't know where it came from but suddenly I was connected to the great suffering of people around the world (I know – hard to believe there was suffering greater than mine) and realized that I never knew really what was going on with perfect strangers, acquaintances and even friends.

When I left my house after two days, it was the night of New Year’s day and I saw a few acquaintances coming into a restaurant, each alone, where I had agreed to go out to dinner with my husband (after of course, spending New Year’s Eve NOT celebrating). I had the urge to go over and wish every one of them a happy new year as they came in. These were all acquaintances, not people I would normally hug. I still don't know what they thought about it or me, but I remember a huge sense of gratitude that I was able to give something when I felt that I had nothing at all to give.

Sleep

Again, it was a horrible way to spend the remainder of a vacation, but my D-Day was during a vacation, so I was able to sleep in and answer to no-one.

Grab sleep whenever you can.

I can't give medical advice of course but there are over-the-counter remedies that can help. I was fortunate enough to have the Big Guns due to a slight insomnia issue. They are not Ambien but I will add, do NOT try to stay awake on Ambien. You will most likely live to regret your actions, and you have enough going on. Please be careful how you use any medication as the temptation to overuse them was incredibly strong.

Be careful who you tell

I wanted to shout it from the rooftops! I wanted to tell his family! I wanted to tell my FRIENDS. Selfishly though, I worried that they might secretly wonder just what it was that I DID to “drive” him to this.

That ended up being a great self-defense mechanism because now, almost a year later, only two people know and that was one too many. Unless someone has been through this, his/her automatic reaction is to think your husband is scum and you might be teetering on the edge of foolishness to stay. You know, the way YOU might have reacted had the same been done to them prior to your own D-Day and they told you. You don't need to defend your actions to anyone and, one way or another, you will be asked to in blatant or subtle ways

It's good if you are able to lean on and cry on your friend’s shoulder. Friends can be a godsend, but they are sometimes going to give you advice and a bunch of platitudes and sometimes it feels like they are patting you on your poor little head. They cannot always know what to do...not only with your life in general but NOW.

By the way, what you will find out is if you choose to stay is that it is not a sign of weakness. It's a sign of strength, compassion, forgiveness and even love. Not now – you don't need to feel compassion or forgiveness or love now – but love is probably the deeply hidden driving force that eventually leads to compassion and forgiveness.

Strength, you have always had, it just probably has never been tested like this. Women who get that surge of adrenalin to pick cars up that have rolled onto their kids? Yup, we're strong like that.

Don't make long-term plans right now.

 Everyone who has gone on this unplanned journey or studied the travelers on this well-beaten but rarely-spoken-of-rationally-in-public road says to wait. Wait six months to a year before making this big decision or any other big decisions.

Things will change. He will change, you will change. And the 3^rd entity in this – your relationship will change. The one you thought was going pretty well can thrive and MUST change so that you are not in this situation again.

I often say “if you're lucky” these things will happen, but it's not luck. It's work. You will eventually have to work (and so will he!)  but right now…

Recover

You have just received a terrible blow. You can rest a while. You need to. This was like a surgery to rip your soul out. Your doctor would tell you to rest after having a tooth removed. This is a lot more painful than that.

Find help for your recovery

I am sure there are people who can make it through without therapy. I don’t know any of those people. Nothing in your life, hopefully, has prepared you for this. What do you do with the anger, sadness, not to mention that shame that is NOT yours (so stop feeling ashamed)? How do you eventually learn to talk without screaming and crying? A good marital counselor will gently help you regain your balance and remind you that this was not your fault (I mean, come on, did he tell you he was doing this ahead of time? Or even considering it? Or perhaps mentioning he was a bit bored or restless? Give you a chance to 'fix' what needed fixing? No? There ya go, no wonder you felt like you were slapped upside the head.) Your spouse should go, of course your spouse should go, not that you asked me but that's a must in my book. If he won’t go, then YOU go. None of this “but he refuses and gets upset if I go”. To this I say “too effing bad.” Does he not realize if he doesn’t go that he's going to be talked ABOUT behind his back for an hour at a time? Come on – he's got to go. But if he doesn’t, you MUST. You might cry your way through the hour but you may be doing that anyway, and every counselor’s office has already paid for the big box of Kleenex. Take advantage of at least that. 

Time

You do not have to accept that time heals all wounds. That’s just something people say when they have no idea what else to say. The reality is that the more time between you and discovery, the less and less it hurts. I'm not saying there won’t be a scar, I'm saying that time will somehow work some magic, like it or not.