Happy labour day (and some words to get you through)

My kids go back to school tomorrow – I'm trying not to cheer too loud in case they can hear – and I promise I will be more present on this site. Thank you to so many of you incredible betrayed warriors who've stepped up and offered comfort and compassion and wisdom to each other, even as you still struggle through your own pain. Every single day I am grateful for this community of women (and the occasional man) who show me what real strength looks like: Just showing up for each other.

Wednesday Word Hug

Is this the job for you?

The amazing Infidelity Counselling Network, located near San Francisco, CA, is looking for a new executive director. The woman who founded this one-of-a-kind organization, who has posted on this site as Laura S., is ready to transition out of the position and appoint someone with the skills and energy to grow the organization and reach even more women experiencing betrayal. 
Here's the job description:
Seeking p/t Executive Director for women's nonprofit. Great opportunity to lead & manage a small organization, start or further your nonprofit career, and transform women's lives. Job description & more info here.

Wednesday Word Hug

How much is enough?

My 15-year-old son has a girlfriend (I know, I know. He's far too young. A baby!). He's smitten. They recently celebrated their one-month anniversary. A week later he visited the cottage of another friend. A girl. A visit that was planned months ago with this good friend.
Cue the drama: His girlfriend became convinced that "something" would happen between my son and his friend. And so she flirted with some guy over text, something my son only knows because a friend of his girlfriend sent him screen shots of the offending texts. My son plans to ask his girlfriend for the "truth" and if she lies to his face then he'll "have to decide what to do next."
It's not easy for me to back off and let my people in my life figure things out on their own though I try mightily. And so I asked my son some questions: What, to him, constitutes "cheating"? How important is honesty in any relationship? Where does he draw the line in what he will and will not tolerate in a relationship? How much is enough?
It's a question we all need to examine for ourselves. For some of us, putting up with someone's shit is a far easier life to imagine than being left or walking away. Far more tempting to tolerate an unhealthy relationship than none at all.
But we don't usually see it in those stark terms. We don't usually realize the fear beneath these choices that don't really feel like choices. We don't see that, by refusing to take a stand about what we will and won't tolerate, we're betraying ourselves. We think we're avoiding pain. But really, we're absorbing it.
How much is enough? 
"Enough" for me is the refusal of a partner to take responsibility for his choices and a refusal to do the work necessary to help us heal.
"Enough" for you might be his choice to cheat in the first place. "Enough" might be his choice to gamble away the mortgage. It might be his dedication to porn. "Enough" might be the first time he hits you. "Enough" might be the 87th time.
"Enough" is that place we come to where we realize that our own integrity is worth the price of heartbreak. It's where we take responsibility for our own choices and insist that others take responsibility for theirs. Enough is where we realize that standing firm in our own convictions won't be the easy thing but it will always be the right thing. Enough is freedom.

As for my son: I hope that he won't betray himself by moving the line between what he will and won't tolerate in order to avoid heartbreak. In any case, if this goes on much longer, I promise you I will have had more than enough.  ;)

What does Glennon Doyle Melton's divorce mean for those of us looking for healed marriages?

Glennon Doyle Melton, whom many of you know from her Momastery site and her first bestseller, Carry On, Warrior, a collection of her many incredible essays about what it means to find sobriety, to find a higher power, to find that you were enough all along, shared the truth about her husband's betrayal a few years ago.
In the time since, she has also shared a few details about their healing, a story that became her second book Love Warrior, which will be released in September.
But, just a few days ago, she shared another part of her healing journey, an unexpected and, to many, difficult piece of news. She and her husband are separating.
It can be hard for those of us hopeful that we can rebuild our marriages after betrayal to witness what we see as the failure of another couple to move past the betrayal. I know, early on after D-Day, I clung to the happily-ever-after stories. I needed desperately to believe that the path I'd chosen wasn't foolish. That it was possible to create something wonderful out of such pain.
It has been almost ten years. And while I hesitate to confess that my husband and I are ourselves going through a tough time right now, the truth is that our marriage is probably a lot like many of my friends who haven't experienced betrayal. It's got its ups and its down, its disappointments and its joys. Some days I look at my husband and wonder how we're going to make it another twenty years together (hell, I wonder how I'm going to make it to dinner without strangling him) and other days I wonder how I could ever live without him. The legacy of betrayal still rears its head now and again but mostly our challenges are more pedestrian. Disagreements over curfews for our children, frustration with who does more around the house (spoiler: it's me).
But there's no doubt that we've had to grow in order to heal from betrayal, in order to create a marriage that can weather the storms. And there have been (still are!) times when our growth doesn't keep pace with each other. Part of our most recent challenges have been around exactly that. I was worrying that he had...stalled. That his dedication to our marriage was flagging. I wondered, with little humility, if I was simply more psychologically evolved than he was. That he had reached his limit.
And then, with me handwringing that I just didn't understand why our son would behave in a certain way, he stunned me with his insight. In one simple sentence, he clarified the situation. Then he went back to watching some idiotic show on television, leaving me aware that a lot more goes on behind his brown eyes than I give him credit for.
And so I offer you this assurance. That, if you choose the path of healing and self-love post-betrayal, you're in for a brutal, beautiful journey ("brutiful", as Glennon puts it). You will change. There's no other way to reach healing. You will change in ways you can't imagine and that will alter how you show up in the world. Your partner might grow alongside you, not necessarily at the same pace and sometimes not in the same direction. Or he might choose a different path, one that leads not to growth but to a continued life in the shadows. But you, I hope, will continue to choose light. You, I hope, will keep your inner compass pointed toward the truth of yourself and your worth and knowing that you are, have always been, enough.
And so you'll be able to make your own choice about your marriage. No matter whether those around you are able to rebuild or choose to leave those marriages behind, you will be able to follow, with clarity and compassion, the path that's right for you.
It's what Glennon Doyle Melton has done. She has not betrayed those of us who've hoped that she could light the way toward a healed marriage. She has simply not betrayed herself and it is that truth that lights the way for all of us.

What is to be done?

"So what is to be done? It was the question at the core of al the questions I had been asking. Life is suffering. There is no way around it. The human condition – the knowledge of this – drives many of us to drink, to drugs, to denial, to running as fast as we can away from the truth of life's fragility. We think we can shore ourselves up. If only we work hard enough, make lots of money, are good and kind enough, pray hard enough, we will somehow be exempt. Then we discover that no one is exempt. What is to be done?"
~Dani Shapiro, Devotion: A Memoir

What is to be done? I roamed my house, wringing my hands and muttering "what do I do?" over and over and over.
The notion of simply being was, at that point, utterly foreign to me. I was a doer. I was a survivor. I was a roll-up-your-sleeves and get to work-er. 
But the pain of betrayal? What is to be done?
Well...perhaps nothing. Not at first. While it might be worth showing the door to an unrepentant cheater, one who responds by blaming you, threatening you, or for whom the betrayal of you was just one more incident in a long list of abuse. Clearing your home of such a toxic person is good first step.
But for the many others of us, for whom the cheating blindsides us because, "my husband would never do that to me", we're on shifting ground. We feel we should be doing something but...what?
Kicking him out feels like self-sacrifice. After all, we meant our vows. We love this idiot man.
Letting him stay feels like surrender. How can we ever get past this?
But surely, we think, we should do something.
I don't think so.
I think giving ourselves permission to just be with our pain, to take the time to fully absorb this shock can be incredibly powerful. And liberating. Freeing ourselves to do something only when that something feels more clear strikes me as far wiser than reacting simply because we feel we must. Our society dismisses those who ponder and weigh and values the quick-responders. The doers. We need to get past that bias.
There are many things you'll have the chance to do, once you figure out your next right step. And that's all you need to know in the short term. Your next right step. Which might look like a bathrobe and cup of tea. It might look like a visit to a divorce lawyer. It might look like a walk in the woods. 
What is to be done? Self-care. Compassion for yourself. Kindness. Gentleness. A chance to forgive yourself for any missteps along the way. A chance to love yourself fully, to finally realize that you are enough and have always been enough. To learn that another's inability to see your true value is about his blindness. To recognize that we can't protect ourselves from all suffering but we can refuse to blame ourselves for it. 
And then, when you're ready, you can roll up your sleeves and embrace a life without him, or you can get into the trenches and begin rebuilding a marriage all the stronger for the storms it has weathered. 
That is what is to be done.