Tag: love

life

34 Days

A Graceful Catastrophe

It’s been 34 days since I found out my husband had been cheating on me since last May. It’s really quite incredible how much can occur in a mere 34 days. And it’s even more amazing how much one can process and grow after experiencing trauma.

I learned that I am capable of emotions I didn’t even think were real. I’ve learned that I am capable of choosing how to digest life. I’ve learned that I can have completely different answers to the same questions, depending on the day, and sometimes the hour, and fully believe that each answer is accurate, though they may be polar opposites. I’ve learned that I can be forgiving in a situation I once judged the heck out of and I’ve learned that PTSD can come in moments as simple as receiving an email notification.

I’ve been uplifted by my community, showered with generosity at levels that have made me cry, been hugged and supported more times than a person should need in just 34 days. I have felt genuine and beautiful love from people who were complete strangers 6 months ago and caring, sweet concern and love from people I’ve known since childhood. My immediate family has rallied behind me, showing me unconditional love by just being there to listen.

I broke my hand and have felt no physical pain, yet experienced emotional pain that cut through my soul. I’ve laughed wonderfully one minute, then ugly cried the next minute. I went from wishing my (ex) husband were dead to hugging him and crying with him, and trying to be empathetic with him about his pain.

All in 34 days.

The 27 or so hours that occurred between this last Thursday night and Friday night were some of the most difficult yet. The mindset I’d chosen after coming back from North Carolina this last Monday has treated me well. I liked the space I was entering. I felt mentally and emotionally strong.

And then something happened that triggered my (ex) husband, something that caused an interesting array of feelings to suddenly appear.

You see, in order to do what he did to me, his head space was such that he didn’t love me anymore. Because no one who actually adores their partner would ever do something like that, over and over again, for almost a year. He didn’t even care about me.

Or so he thought. He realized, late Thursday night, early Friday morning, that he does care about me deeply. He may still love me. And has been consumed with self-hatred, regret, and shame since. He’s finally feeling a fraction of the hurt I feel. He’s discovered empathy.

This has been so hard for me.

You don’t stop loving your husband immediately when something like this happens. Perhaps some people do, but I sure didn’t. He’s a good person, he has a great heart, and he’s the father of my child. So, I had to shut down that love. I had to turn it off. It’s not that I’ve fallen out of love, it’s that I had to bury the love in order to maintain a semblance of sanity.

I also stopped focusing on the pain of the betrayal. I buried the person he was to me. His role as husband was officially dead. Instead, I chose to consciously see him as the person he is to me – still the father of my child and someone who has all the potential to be a great friend. By changing his definition, by choosing to focus my thoughts differently, is how I’ve been able to gracefully move forward. My newly constructed mindset is still quite fluid, though. I’m still grieving, and some days, living through those day to day moments is still a struggle. I am very much still in survivor mode. I’m just here for the journey, riding the wave until the seas calm.

And then the full realization of not only his actions, but his feelings he’d buried so deep, come boiling to the surface, exploding out in such an emotional burst, that it took us both by surprise.

How do I process that?! This doesn’t fit in my nice little mindset frame that I built.

So, yesterday I tried handling it by working out until I was stupid (does anyone else turn dumb after intense workouts?? Is that a thing? Seriously, inquiring minds want to know…), because feeling physical pain and exhaustion is far easier to comprehend than emotional pain and exhaustion. And today I worked out again, pushing my body to its limits, causing me to feel that euphoric high that occurs when you crush a goal.

And you know what? I’m processing it all much better today.

Add that to the list of things I’ve learned in the last 34 days: having a healthy outlet to turn to when the emotions just get too much is life saving. Without exercise, without the community at my gym, I don’t know where I’d be. Having a healthy response (exercising) to wild emotions helps keep me from *accidentally* breaking my bones. I know, a shocking concept, right? *eyeroll*

After my last workout of the day today, my head felt less foggy, my emotions less erratic. My mindset has changed a bit – again – focusing now on the hope that through this pain and trauma, both of us will become better people. We can’t change the past, the choices that were already made, but we can surely focus on becoming better humans. We can both choose to move forward with grace.

David Crosby wrote about pain that was beautiful, really. He said, essentially, that “your pain is changing you.” There is no doubt that this pain is changing the both of us.

This chapter of my life is a full on storm filled with blinding pain and, therefore, an abundance of opportunities to show grace and compassion. I feel that I am a completely different person today than I was 35 days ago. At first I was sad when the old me died, as she was very good to me. Now, in just this short period of time, I’m finding I love the new me even more. Already.

Imagine what 68 days from now will look like. A full year. I don’t know why I’m on this path but there is a purpose to it. Nothing happens to us by accident.

So I, as best as I can, now embrace the trauma. I am grateful for the pain. Without the last 34 days, I would’ve never been who I am now becoming.

We all live through storms, some of our storms are more like a Cat 5 hurricane, some just a quick thunderstorm passing by. One is not greater than the other, all storms come with moments to embrace the ugly and hurt and turn it into something beautiful.

We just have to frame our mindset to see the beauty, rather than the pain. While I fully acknowledge that this isn’t possible all the time, I’ve learned that mindset is everything. We paint our world with our thoughts…and then have to live in that world. Why not make it full of rainbows and butterflies?

So, as you navigate your storms, both present and future, choose your thoughts wisely. As will I.

And always remember, we are all stronger than we think. We all have the ability to overcome.

My strength, currently, comes from reflecting on how much has happened, how much I’ve changed in just 34 days. It gives me hope for the next day, as that is all I can focus on right now. This storm has already lessened in its intensity and I know I’ve already grown exponentially.

I have hope for tomorrow again.

And it’s only been 34 days.

life

Perspective

A Graceful Catastrophe
Just because I’m right doesn’t mean you’re wrong.

After a weekend away, visiting with friends (and drinking entirely too much), I feel more balanced. I was ready to come home from this trip and I’m starting to get to a place where I’m accepting my reality. Before, I focused on the hurt, in disbelief that this is now my life: 2 failed marriages, a daughter that’s going to grow up in 2 homes, and trying to figure out how not to take the cheating personally.

Now that it’s been about a month, I’m a bit further removed from the hurt. I’m gaining perspective. (*I know this is how I’m feeling today, right now, in this moment and that these jumbled emotions are ever-changing. I also think I’m getting pretty decent at embracing the flood and riding the waves.*)

Today is one of those days where I think my (ex) husband and I will be pretty darn amazing friends one day. Perhaps sooner than later. When I got home tonight, he asked me about my weekend. I shared the ridiculous stories and then he shared his ridiculous evening he had on Saturday. Then, somehow, we found ourselves navigating through a conversation about his infidelity. This isn’t all that uncommon.

For years, we were not the spouses to one another that we should’ve been. When we moved to Colorado, my (ex) husband became quite depressed. With his depression came anger. He was so mean and mad and short-tempered. Rather than have compassion, I became colder. I remember driving home one day, talking with one of my BFF’s, and complaining about how awfully I was being treated. She called me out and said I wasn’t being a supportive wife. Well, of course I wasn’t because I wasn’t liking how I was being treated. Rather than respond with grace, class, and understanding, I turned angry and dismissive.

Because all I wanted was a husband who cherished me.

I wanted to feel loved and since I wasn’t, I started to withhold my love. I’m sure it wasn’t a conscious decision at first. Though after being called out, I didn’t try to improve either. I was so frustrated with how I was being treated that I felt justified in my actions.

Hearing my (ex) husband talk about what transpired is interesting. He knows he did a terrible thing. He knows he is going to have to deal with the consequences for the rest of his life. But during those difficult years, he also just wanted a wife that cherished him. He also felt unloved. He also chose to respond to me with more anger and more frustration.

We were caught up in a terribly vicious cycle that has brought us to where we are today.

We were two people, sad and frustrated for pretty much the same reasons. I think that he knew I wouldn’t quit the marriage, I wasn’t going to throw away the family. Back in September, I decided to give it an honest go, to quit being so angry and stubborn, to be the one that tried. But my efforts went unnoticed because he was already long gone. I was too late in shoving my stubbornness and hurt and anger aside. He’d already done something so awful that, when I found out, quitting the marriage was the only option.

Please don’t misunderstand my message here. I’m not blaming myself for his infidelity, nor am I justifying it. Rather, at least up until last May, we had many missed opportunities to fix what was broken.

I was screaming 6 while he was screaming 9. We were both right. We were both hurt. We were both pretty terrible spouses. Neither of us wanted to take a moment to walk around to the other’s side. Had we taken an honest look, perhaps we wouldn’t be filling out separation paperwork right now.

If there’s anything to learn from this, it is to desperately try to not judge a situation or a person’s actions. Take a walk around and visit it from their angle. Why are they behaving as they are? What do they see from their perspective? Every single person has their own viewpoint, so why is it so hard for us to try and see the world from their view? How arrogant I was, to only have seen my side.

I thought I was an understanding person. I thought I was non-judgmental. But this whole time, for well over the last 5 years, I was giving the person I was supposed to love the most the least slack. I let his actions harden me.

I’m not doing that anymore. At least, not consciously. I want to lead with grace. To come from a place of understanding. To live assuming the best in others.

I hope that if you’re reading this, if you’re connecting to these words in any way, that you reach out to the person who doesn’t deserve your grace. It’s so much easier to judge than it is to understand (as my dad says), but wouldn’t you want to know that you gave everything you had to fix what’s broken? I have no fault in the infidelity, but I do have plenty of fault in being in a difficult marriage. I could’ve been the bigger person. I could’ve stopped being stubborn. I could’ve shown an ounce of compassion to my husband, who was struggling immensely with the move. I didn’t.

I just kept shouting 6.

Get out of that negative cycle that perpetuates a difficult relationship. Be the one to step forward with love, no matter how angry and justified you are.

Stop shouting 6.

life

Strength

A Graceful Catastrophe

You really have no idea how you’re going to respond to something until it happens to you. And even when it does happen to you, you still have no idea how to respond, your emotions are all over the place and change constantly.

So many people, almost everyone that I’ve told this story to, have commented on how strong I am to be handling it the way I am. On one hand, when I hear their words and read their comments, I am reminded that I am strong. I will survive this, of course. Coming out of this a stronger and wiser woman is the only option.

But then, just a half of a second later, I feel like such a fraud.

I mean, I lost my mind and punched a column in my kitchen so hard, or maybe it’s that it was so many times, that I displaced my pinky bone up and about a centimeter away from my knuckle. My doctor said that I broke it “worse than horrible,” (seriously, those were his words). Even after surgery, it’s still not lined up where it ought to be. The doc said it was just too broken to make it line up perfectly again. My pinky will never be quite right again. When people say I’m strong, I’m pretty sure this is not the strength they are referring to…

How can so many someones say I am strong, implying having emotional strength, when I do something like that?! That was a pure moment of weakness.

My life is filled with moments of weakness lately. Guys, I cry. I can be doing any random, mundane task and then find myself with tears running down my cheeks. I’m so tired but I cannot sleep. I struggle to have any motivation to do anything. I just want to lay down and forget my reality.

But I don’t.

I plaster a smile on my face until I believe it’s real. I go through the motions of living until they are exactly what I want to be doing.

Perhaps this is what people see; why it is they say that I’m strong.

But if I’m so strong, then why is it all still so confusing? I should know exactly how I feel about my (ex) husband. (What a dirtbag, right?)

Yet here I am, so very confused when it comes to him. We spent almost exactly 11 years together. We have a daughter together. We laughed so much together. Once upon a time, we had a beautiful and intense love for one another. I should hate him, but I don’t.

Our marriage was hard. And, as it turns out, he is someone that doesn’t do “hard.”
He’s a good person who did an atrociously disgusting thing the second he decided that to remain an active participant as a husband was just too much effort for him.

It’s easy to love when life is simple. When we met, life was one giant party. As time went on, our lives became more complicated, there were many obstacles to maneuver. We had a child. We moved to a different state. I became so sick that it severely impacted both my life and our marriage (though I hid the extent of it all from the outside world. Perhaps that is why I’m choosing to be so transparent now. I’m quite tired of hiding.). Some of these obstacles were willingly added into our lives. Others were not. Life was hard, and getting harder everyday. Loving one another became this thing that took so much effort. Nothing about our marriage felt easy. As the days passed, more and more moments seemed to take extra work. Until it became almost all of the moments taking effort. And a lot of it.

But why give up? What makes someone decide his marriage is too exhausting to keep trying to work on it? What is so horrible that makes his wife not valuable enough to fight for? That one hurts. So much. I was not valued. I wasn’t worth fighting for. You can tell me until you’re blue in the face that his infidelity has nothing to do with me. Logically, I know that. Yet, I still struggle with not being enough. If I were enough, in his eyes, we wouldn’t be here today.

So there it is. The great big, ugly truth. These thoughts are not strong.

Now, I can keep myself mostly together when I’m in public. I don’t really like to talk about these depths, to speak them out loud gives them more power than I’d like them to have. I know you mostly see the side I am desperately trying to be. But I also want you to know that the struggle is real.

So you see, I am no stronger than you. Any of you could handle this exact situation if you had to (boy, do I hope you never have to sift through these layers of emotion, though!) and you could do so in a manner that would also impress others.

When you see me, and you think I am being so strong, understand that this strength solely comes from keeping my eye on the prize – making sure my daughter is minimally impacted by this situation. My daughter needs a strong female influence. She needs to understand her value comes from within. I don’t ever want her to feel like she isn’t enough. I want her to know she is always “enough.” And by convincing her, I just may convince myself.

Most days, I don’t feel all that strong…but I’m trying to be. I’m taking this all moment by moment. I just wish those moments could not include him right now. Having him in the house is just about the hardest thing I think I’ve ever had to deal with on a pretty regular basis and I also know that having him there is making me grow at an exponential speed.

Seeing the man that I once loved and having him replaced by this stranger that caused me more pain than I realized I could take, day in and day out, is pretty awful. Some moments I can’t bear to look him in the eye and others, I long for him to just hold me close. I’m not entirely sure how long I can ride the roller coaster having him home takes me on. Or perhaps this will eventually become my new normal and all these emotions will calm down and fade. We’ll settle into a new routine that does not cause me such anguish.

Time will tell.

And in time, I will come to believe your words, your affirmations, your belief that I am strong. Just know, I am writing this to tell you it’s not easy and sometimes I feel like a fraud because I do not feel as strong as you think I am. That strength you see almost always has some emptiness behind it.

Even so, I appreciate the uplifting comments and feel free to keep them coming. They serve as reminders that I am strong. That I am enough. And I need all the reminders that I can get these days.

And just one last thing: don’t walk away just because it’s hard, whatever “it” is defined as for you. Decide it’s worth fighting for and go all in.

Love genuinely. Love hard. And think about this in all your difficult moments:

Love must mean so much more when it exists through the “hard.”

-Katrina

Someday, I’ll know this to be true.