Whether you make it happen solo, or together..
Of late, I’ve written several posts about anything other than directly relating to where my marriage stands.
Discussing my own imperfections and guilt is not only cathartic, it’s something within MY CONTROL. I find a sense of relief, because I’m not dealing with the direct pain from being betrayed. Guilt and self-inflicted pain is much more tolerable than the alternative, which is rehashing what my H did, (and the most excruciating part – that he enjoyed another woman’s body).
That just plain sucks.
Remembering facts, and my inability to stop it from happening again, paralyzes me. I’ve avoided reflecting on the one year mark of D-Day in my marriage because things have been better lately.
That being said, I haven’t been living in a bubble of denial. I was born a realist, bordering on the cynical side. If you read small pieces of my story, one might be inclined to think I’m naive or blind, but I’ve simply chosen to keep certain things ‘in the vault’ until the time came to share.
My goals of writing were not only to connect with others, but to share a story of struggle and redemption, but most importantly, how God came in to play. So, I feel I need to press on – even when it hurts.
When I first started treading the waters of WordPress, I was a rambling mess. Not just because of my poor writing skills, (while those could use sprucing up), but also because I was simply still in shock.
I had what I like to refer to as ‘diarrhea of the mouth.’ I told too much, and yet, not enough.
Then I veered off course altogether.
So now, for the sake of anyone out there that may stumble upon my page in the fresh aftermath of disclosure, I’d like to plant a seed of hope.
Feelings wax and wane, and before you know it another spring and summer will come to pass, but as they say, “The truth remains the same.” You and your partner will, of course, not ever be the same again, but that can be a blessing.
I am not attempting to delude anyone with some peachy scenario and a tidy, happy ending adorned with a bow, by the means of a simple wing and a prayer. Nor will you be able to just close your eyes, click your red slippers together thrice and magically be back in Kansas.
It will require perseverance and the patience of Job, but if both parties are willing to put in the elbow grease – it can be done.
So, where does this marriage stand after the one year D-Day mark?
We are together. Of course, we are both scarred, somewhat enlightened, and empowered by the knowledge of truth.
Triggers still emerge, but with the work we’ve put in together, the pain evoked has lessened.
I could very well find out at the 2 year D-Day mark that he has an Ashley Madison account and a mix of girlfriends to which I’m oblivious. But since that’s not what my gut tells me right now, I press onward – in faith instead of fear.
And if he has stepped outside the marriage again, I now take heed in the fact that I did what was within my power to attempt to heal it, and God will deal with him – just as He will deal with me.
I surrender all… I surrender all..
That’s simply all I am capable of now – letting go and giving him to God.
We can’t control what another person will do in our absence, nor the future.
What I do with myself to heal is, however, is within reach. I’m trying to choose to be a glass half-full kind of person these days, but there are still moments of crippling fear.
Yet, somewhere along the way I realized its not all about me anymore anyway. God has made that abundantly clear.
Besides, ‘Sometimes destruction is a form of creation, right?’
The combination of effort, time, persistence, and the consistency on my husband’s part of the past year has been a catalyst to move forward.
More than what my husband does, God’s grace has been the key to begin healing – even more than my husband.
Have I forgotten? How I wish! The other day the “b” word, a.k.a ‘brothel’ in my house, came across the TV. It felt as if someone sucked all the air out of the room. Instead of being dismissive or angry at my pain, my husband embraced me. We stayed there together – me crying in his arms saying nothing – for about 10 minutes. Then, like a colicky baby, the need to cry from pain suddenly dissipated. I succumbed to the fact that the past is just that, and it has passed.
I like to imagine this might be what it looks like as you put the pieces back together: A willingness to sit together, acknowledging you’re the source of the pain – instead of deflecting or running.
The biggest part that makes this story special is not me, nor my husband, or even the details. It is God, and how He brought the things done in the dark out in the light of day – in a surreal manner. There’s nothing He doesn’t see or know, and that is part of my comfort when I feel insecure.
And the key to my healing now is knowing God, God knowing me, and remembering He is my Redeemer – not my husband.
That’s where our year has led. We are are trying to move forward as a solitary unit, yet two individuals with separate needs.
So, to a person who may just be uncovering infidelity: there is hope.
And for every person that has a story, remember that there is a story behind the story. So, try not to compare yourself to a solitary person or couple, but know that you are definitely not alone in your pain and suffering.
God Bless ❤️