Life at 4 years out
I am a WW. I am 4 years out from confessing to my partner of 15 years and 5 years out from multiple affairs, all of them physical.
First, I'm alive. When this all first hits, whether you are found out or confess, it honestly feels like you might die. And that death might actually be a welcome reprieve. Waking up every day was a struggle. Looking in the mirror, unbearable. Looking my partner in the eye, impossible. I hung my head low for a year. I avoided eye contact. Never raised my voice. Walked on eggshells. Apologized every single day. Went to individual therapy and couples counseling. Worked my ass off the be not just a better person, but the best person for my partner. Constant reassurances and accountability for my every move. Sat silently when the rages would hit. Never, ever cheated again after my confession. And then, after that year, I left.
I knew that I hadn't been happy for so many years prior to my infidelity. I had been too scared to leave, too weak. I used my affairs to sweep me away to a fantasy world. Used men to feel alive, but more than that, I used them to escape. When it all came crashing down, I held on for dear life to my old life only to realize a year later that my old life...well, quite honestly, it was shit. I wasn't in a healthy, happy relationship. I was miserable and allowed myself to stay stuck. My children were growing up in a turbulent home because I couldn't find the courage to leave. Everyone around me was telling me the same thing but I just couldn't see myself standing on my own anymore. I had once been fiercely independent and now, I was nothing. Except when I was unfaithful. That made me feel powerful. Repulses me to type that, but it's true.
I left everything. Bought a home just down the street so that it would be easier on the kids. I had nothing. Not even salt and pepper shakers. At 45 years old, I started over with less than I had when I started college. And I built my life. So also did my ex, remarrying again to a fantastic woman who I am thrilled to have in my kid's lives. I am truly so happy for them and we all get along very well.
I am now in a relationship as well that is quite different from the life I had before. I don't put up with what I did in my younger days. I know that if I repress, if I don't stand up for myself, if I start to feel weak, I will reach for what I know makes me feel better - the dopamine rush of an elicit affair. I treat it as an addiction and I have learned how to take care of myself. In doing so, I am protecting others. I know the depths of what I'm capable of and I know the pain and destruction I can leave in my wake.
My kids are growing up in 2 homes just down the street from one another. They are in happy homes, with happy parents. Happier apart than they ever were together. We all openly agree on that, even my ex.
I would sell my soul to the devil himself to undo my infidelity. I hate that part of myself and I still struggle with the devastation and pain I inflicted on my partner who is forever changed because of the horrific choices I made. I can't ever take that pain away, and we will all have to live with it for the rest of our lives. My path to independence was a crime scene. Why I couldn't just leave haunts me always. The fact that we're all in a much better place now than we were before the affairs even doesn't take the hurt and shame away. Leaving didn't either. It's still there. It always will be. It's a death of sorts and you grieve it always. You also learn to carry it.
For those of you waking up, looking in the mirror and hating what you see staring back at you, I am here to tell you that it does get better. It doesn't always mean reconciliation. It doesn't mean you'll divorce. What it does mean is that regardless of the ultimate outcome, you will survive. You will piece together your life, your self-esteem and you will feel deserving again.
You are not your worst mistakes.
Chin up.
4 comments posted: Wednesday, December 9th, 2020