Anniversary after D-Day?

     An anniversary signifies a time of celebration for most married couples. A time to celebrate your commitment to one another, remembering the day you vowed to love, honor, cherish, and fore sake all others . I imagine I am not the only one who struggles with this yearly event in light of D Day. However, this was my first anniversary since discovering my husband had an affair. In fact, this was my fifth wedding anniversary.  Considering the past year, I was not much in a celebratory mood.  I asked my husband to not refer to the day as our anniversary and to not get me a gift or card. He respected my wishes somewhat; he did get me a generic card with his own words written on the inside. We spent the weekend together, even arranging childcare. I found myself really enjoying our time together. We connected like we hadn’t in sometime.

     Since D-Day, I've been on a quest to reconstruct our marriage. I hate doing things we have done in the past, particularly since it triggers memories I wish I could erase.  So instead of the typical dinner and a movie, we took a painting class, and then went to dinner at a new restaurant. We made many new memories replacing the old, withered, soul crushing ones. Even with the positive experiences we were having, I couldn’t shake the intruding thoughts that seemed to appear in the midst of an ideal moment. For example, on Saturday morning we went on a long bike ride, something we haven’t done in years. We went to a new trail with beautiful scenery. I loved feeling the wind in my face and the sun on my back. I took a few moments and I thanked God for that precious moment. I felt happy. Unfortunately, just as I was embracing the moment, my mind filled with angry, resentful thoughts.  I felt angry that the decisions my husband made ruined many irreplaceable moments for me, including one that was so sacred ..our wedding day.  I can never look back on that day and remember it with fondness, partly because the OW was there but mostly because I look at that young girl in the pictures and I want to warn her. I want her to know what she is getting herself into. Sometimes I’m not so sure I would have married him had I known what I know now, but mostly I’m glad I did.

 Inevitably, I made it through my first anniversary since D-Day and I feel relieved. It wasn’t as hard as I anticipated and for that I am thankful.  I’m much stronger than I ever gave myself credit for and I’m betting you are too. How did you handle your first anniversary after D-Day?

-K

Intuition

  Lately, I've been struggling with this notion. While I still place the bulk of the blame on my husband for his choices, I know some of the responsibility lies on my shoulders. My newest obsession is..."I knew but never did anything to stop it." I never had solid evidence that my husband was cheating on me; however, my intuition told me otherwise. I've read all those articles... "10 signs he's cheating on you" or "how to prevent your husband from straying." I somehow always managed to rationalize them away. I even recall one conversation with a friend where I said something along the lines of feeling like he might be talking to someone else but he would never have time to actually cheat on me. I knew the whole time but I never found the evidence I was looking for. 

     My husband would never allow me to handle his cell phone and that made me suspicious, rightfully so. I talked with him about this on several occasions, to which he would reply, "you have nothing to worry about, there is no one else." Lies. He made me feel like I was the crazy one for not trusting him. It truly makes me ill looking back on how he so easily manipulated me. How he made me feel bad for being skeptical of his hidden computer chats and phone messages. I hate him for that. Mostly, I hate him for allowing me to blindly trust him more than I trusted my own intuition.

     My naivety, in this particular situation, was really a fault. I too often believe everything people tell me because I've been fortunate enough, in my 29 years, not to have had experiences that made me mistrustful. So in the wake of my husband’s infidelity, I now question everything and everyone. There is a sense of innocence lost. How unfortunate that one experience, albeit traumatic experience, can erase a lifetime of good experiences. But maybe it has given me an opportunity, one I never asked for, to truly examine myself. To make things better within myself. Being too trustful in a world of sinful human nature was probably not my best quality anyway. My hope is that one day I can achieve a happy medium.

     I know in order to forgive my husband, I must forgive myself first. I have to let go of the “what if's” and the “I should have known's." I know I probably could have tried harder to uncover my husband’s dirty secret. I could have looked at the phone bill, or demanded to see his facebook or cell phone but I never did. That tells me a lot about myself in our marriage. I would have rather avoided a fight with him than to dismantle his affair. I've learned the only one I have control over is myself and I can choose to believe blindly or I can trust my own intuition. Because God knows, when something doesn't feel right...it's usually not. I won't pull the covers over my head, and I'll fight for what's mine. My husband has taken far too much from me already and I'll be damned if I let him, his choices, and her, take away the last shred of trust I have in myself. 

Here's my story...

     I've often heard journaling is therapeutic after sustaining trauma and sometimes when you know others are privy to reading your thoughts and providing insight it can help you heal even more. I'm not notorious for being a writer and my thoughts are typically all over the place. I'm still at the beginning stages of discovery but figured this was worth a try. Commiserate with me anyway?


     I discovered my husband was having an affair three long months ago on October 2, 2013. Our first baby was born two months prior and I was in the midst of post partum depression. I was sleep deprived and craving my old life. I loved being a mother but I longed to get out of the house and do as I pleased. I thought I would never feel sane again (little did I know). My house was always a mess and I barely had time for a quick shower. On this particular night (Oct 2, 2013) my husband, who I rarely saw without his cell phone glued to his hand, went out to run some errands while I mopped the floors. I quickly scrubbed the floors singing along to the "gigglebellies" in an attempt to keep the little one content. After I finished, I came into the living room to take a quick breath before moving onto the next "to do" item. I noticed my husband’s cell phone carelessly lying on the couch. I thought it was odd that he left it behind, considering he never let it out of his sight. I thought about leaving it there but something told me to look at and so I did. The first message was from a number I didn't recognize but one that is now embedded in my mind. I clicked the message open, unprepared for the words that lie ahead. My life would never be the same.

     I read a few lines of back and forth messages of a sexual nature. I could see the ones before had been deleted. I felt like I was reading messages between two people I had never met and then I realized what was happening. I felt numb and then I got sick. I paced the living room floor determined to find out who this bitch was. I messaged her back. "Do you know I'm married?" (Obviously not the most thought out text). She replied within seconds, "what?" and then "That must have been meant for someone else" "That's what I thought" and then so eloquently she says, "Busted." I began shaking, with blood rushing to my cheeks. I knew who it was. A coworker of his that also happened to attend our wedding as a date of one of our guests. Not only did she know he was married, she knew who I was. She watched us exchange vows and have our first dance. Whore. I took his phone outside and smashed it on the sidewalk. I stood in the doorway waiting for him to get home. 

     My husband looked dumb founded as he gathered the pieces of his phone. He asked, "What is going on?" I think he knew. I began my tirade, while smashing photos and empting his drawers. He told me he had sex with her twice the previous summer but continued on and off texting. I was fuming. I asked him to leave and I spent the night in utter shock. He cheated on me?

     I woke up the next morning, still in the same clothes, smeared makeup and my mom lying next to me. For a fleeting moment I thought, "What is she doing here." Reality hit me like a train. I didn't know it then but I was about to live the worst day of my life.