Making Waves

      

 

     John F Kennedy once said, “We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch-we are going back from whence we came.” 

     For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved the ocean.  In fact, my earliest memory is of sitting at the window looking out at the water with my “cookie and a bookie”. I don’t remember the book I had or what kind of cookie I ate (my mom was into health food, chances are it was carob or oatmeal ), but I remember the ocean. There was a storm coming in and the wind had started whistling against the window. Sand swirled on the ground below the beach house, layers of grey tossed and turned the water giving way to a low growl, keeping time with the loud roar coming from the clouds above. I’ve often wondered why this particular memory has stayed so vivid in my mind. I couldn’t have been more than 3 years old. Who remembers what happened when they were that young? 

     My personality is a lot like those waves. An independent thinker, yearning to walk the opposite direction of the crowd. As a child I seemed to constantly overstep and run the show. A battle of wills which prompted my mother to issue “The curse”, to have a child just like me. I ended up with that times 3. All 3 girls, in their own way, battle stereotypes, speak their minds, and unashamedly will flip off any rule that isn’t practical or reasonable. 

     The difference between them and I, is that through the years, I was conditioned to believe that my actions were a threat to the headship arrangement set up by the religion. Where they thrive and grow in their unique attitudes, I shrunk and withered.  I was broken and spent my youth pushing my personality into a box that didn’t fit.   I say the religion rather than God, because as with anything, you can have a good, solid system in motion and eventually, somebody will come along and take it to an extreme for which it was never intended. Headship, it’s not necessarily a bad plan to set up a structure that benefitted society at that particular point in time. I do not know if the original intent was to keep women in line and subject to any whim her mate had at the time, however it seems almost natural to me to fight against the notion.  

     Submission to someone can be tricky.  I can submit to my employer making rules and decisions about their business. Sometimes the employer will listen to the workers suggestions and concerns, sometimes they do not. But here’s the kicker, if I don’t agree, if it becomes a burden, if I am incapable of continuing under that leadership, I have the right to leave their employ.  This was not an option allowed to women once that ring was on her finger where I grew up. This rule was something that imprisoned me on many occasions. Not only did I feel violated and hurt at times, I was also told I had no grounds to leave. When an opportunity arose, I was so beaten down emotionally, I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want someone like me, so I stayed. Even though I left the religion, the mentality stuck with me.  I not only remained in toxic situations but invited more in under the guise of compromise. But the only thing I really compromised was myself, my values, my dreams for the future. 

     My true personality was still there. Underneath all the chains and fog.  It would manifest itself in ways I wouldn’t have expected.  The desire to go against the norm could be overpowering. I remember once, we had gone to see a musical in downtown Seattle. After the show, we were on the sidewalk and the next thing I know, people were running toward me. Chaos and screaming, someone shouting out , “Gun! He fired a gun!”  I stood there as people ran by me, like water flowing around a rock in the river.  Soon it stopped and there was nothing but quiet. Even the hotdog vendor was gone, he left his food, cart, and the wind was gently blowing the dollars in his money box. It was the oddest feeling of calm inside me. My ex said, “well I guess we can go this way (pointing the same direction that everyone ran in) go around the block over there and reach the parking garage down that way”. The words just fell out of my mouth, “ But my car is right over there.” I pointed in the direction where they all ran from. I started walking.  I passed windows of hotel lobbies and restaurants, where people were ducking inside, hugging each other, crying, calling someone on their cell phone to give them an update on the situation.  I remember observing and knowing why but not really feeling what they felt. I wouldn’t call it confusion or indifference. It just felt like I was watching a movie. I remember faces, and thinking, they’re scared, but just kept walking forward. It was like a compulsion. I had to go this way, my body and brain refused to allow me to turn around.  What exactly went down, I still don’t know. Later, someone said a few shots were fired off from a car at a specific person then drove off. No one was hurt. But by then I was in my own car driving home. I still think about it, I should have gone the way the crowd went, I should have wanted to. That was the safest route. But I don’t remember it with fear or regret. I just didn’t have the desire. I don’t think I would do it differently given the chance. 

     Eventually you come to a crossroad and have to decide, do I continue down this path or do I change direction? Mine came when the doctor looked at me and said “Welcome to middle age!”  Middle age??? What? Middle means half. And half my life had been spent unhappy.  I suddenly found myself rebelling, speaking up, sometimes being downright bitchy. Unbeknownst to me, that was the domino that fell, creating a series of events that led to my divorce. Refusal to accept certain behavior, regardless of past compromises, arrangements, and deals. I was the only one keeping them anyway. He did what he wanted regardless. But having someone unwilling to settle for half a life with him wasn’t something he was interested in. I wanted the whole thing, a real marriage with respect. I stopped asking for it and started demanding it. 

     You see, being a wild wave isn’t necessarily about being reckless or causing problems where they don’t exist, rebelling simply for the sake of rebelling. If you use it right, it becomes a powerful tool to use in getting yourself up off the ground and standing tall. Becoming a person that can lead, speak up for what’s right, setting boundaries that protect yourself and mental well being.  I see it in my girls. They aren’t robots, far from it. The disagree and argue all the time, amongst themselves, in school, work, everywhere at any time. But that kind of tenacity develops an individual that has no problem saying ‘No’. My oldest stepping in front of a stranger getting yelled at by someone, sending them on their way.  My youngest badgering her father for money at Christmas instead of gifts, then donating it to the food bank. My middle child stopping the entire play at a soccer game to run back to a player from the opposite team that fell and hadn’t gotten up, taking her hand and helping her walk to her sideline.  They will go, without hesitation in the opposite direction than most people in today’s society would do. They get involved, no questions, no wait and sees, just instinct. I’m proud of that. 

     In a lot of ways I am learning from them and for them, what healthy boundaries are and how to keep them. More and more as the days pass, I feel like myself again. I feel stronger both physically and emotionally.  I am teaching myself to stop thinking so much and allowing myself to emerge, to let go, to find that ocean and start moving in it. Wild waves making noise, fighting the shoreline, standing up against the thunder that roars above it, creating a beauty all its own. Waves are a response to the chaos that comes from the wind and the rain, the storm that arrives, the shore that tries to stop them, the moon stirring above them. They protect the ocean, no, they are the ocean, they protect themselves. You can never contain a wave in a box. Inside the container, it’s only saltwater, flat, motionless. It’s meant to be free, let it go. Be yourself. Whoever you are, be that person. And as you swirl and pound that ocean shore, if you see that box waiting for you, tempting you to enter……CRUSH IT and send the bits and pieces out to sea where they belong. 

The Art of Not Getting Involved

     

March 2021

How many times have we seen or heard something that was wrong and we faced the age old dilemma of whether to stand up and say something or let it ride without any interference on our part? Let’s face it, turning our heads and pretending we don’t see what’s happening is so much easier than being the person that takes that first step, voices the first objection, cries out to right the wrong.  Do we not have much better things to do with our time? Families to take care of, jobs that take our attention and energy, hobbies, projects; stepping up means focusing on something or someone other than ourselves, and today, that is an obscure concept to say the least. 

     But is that really the reason we turn a blind eye to wrong doing or unfairness? We aren’t being honest with ourselves if we don’t admit in certain situations, doing the right thing puts us in awkward and uncomfortable positions. Doing the right thing sometimes produces an environment that feels as if we have to choose between friends or be seen as a traitor, a rat, even disloyal to some sort of code.  The simplest answer is that all too familiar phrase, “I don’t want to get involved.”  

     Not getting involved seems to be very common when dealing with couples.  Nobody wants to be involved when it comes to disagreements or arguments between married persons, nor should they. Couples should work out their own issues without interference from outside influence or busybodies causing more division than help.  Anyone wanting to participate in such things rarely have the couples best interests at heart, most likely with other agenda they are working at. There is however, a grey area. This blurry, swirling, questionable place that when we find ourselves standing, the internal struggle can seem like those cartoons with an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. 

     Fidelity..... ouch.  It’s uncomfortable to even think about when it comes to friends, even acquaintances or coworkers. For some, having knowledge of a person’s hanky-panky is a moral quandary. We can empathize as to how we would feel in the situation if we were the innocent party. We can put ourselves in the shoes of the offender. We may even have been the target of attempted advances or have watched the predator stalk it’s prey.  But ultimately, deep down in our gut, what most of us really want, is to not have been privy to any of it. The right thing to do, what is the right thing to do? Informing someone that their spouse is a two timing dog can totally backfire.  We could be accused of starting trouble, lying, being jealous, loving drama.  We could end up with tears on our shoulders or angry fists banging on our doors. We could end up watching a relationship unravel before our eyes or worse, it doesn’t. Do you lose a friend? Both friends? Is it something you can bounce back from and things go back to normal? That would be very unlikely.  Stepping up and providing that kind of information means someone’s life, including your own, is going to change.  No wonder the majority of people aware of  their friends affairs, flirtations, and indiscretions simply keep their mouth shut.  Their heart might go out to the unknowing person, but it’s the same phrase thats uttered, “I don’t want to get involved .”  There’s too much to have to deal with to do the right thing.  It’s too messy. And it’s certainly going to cause problems for everyone.  

     As a wife that has been on the other side of a cheater most of my life, I’ll tell you what I think. DO IT ANYWAY. 

     You see, you are already involved, neck deep, treading water in a thunderstorm.  By looking the other way, you are making decisions for the victim (Yes, I said victim). Decisions that are not yours to make.  First, You are in fact deciding for the non offending spouse that they should stay in an unhealthy relationship.  No matter the excuse given for cheating, you should keep in mind, if a person is cheating, then they are lying.  If they can lie to a person they stood up and made a commitment to love and honor till death do they part, they can certainly lie to you without so much as quiver in their throat. Not to mention, regardless of the reasons, there is no justification of that type of behavior if the spouse is unaware and not ok with it.  Second, we do not know what goes on behind closed doors.  Are we so arrogant to believe that our unsuspecting pal is blissfully happy? People live in abusive and unloving situations everyday and no one  is none the wiser.  Has it ever occurred that this person has been emotionally beat down to the point that they don’t have any confidence in their own judgement anymore? That maybe, someone reaching out to them and validating that what is going on is wrong, might be what keeps them going, or gets them the help they need to finally leave a destructive relationship? Third, you are taking their physical health into your hands.  Do we know the details of this person’s disloyalty? Is it just inappropriate behavior or actual sex? Was it one time or an affair that lasted a while? Was it just one person or more than one? Did they use protection? Do they get checked for STDs regularly? If you can’t answer these with complete assurance (and remember, you’re dealing with someone capable of lying effortlessly) then you have no right to keep that information from the unknowing partner, regardless of how uncomfortable it may make you or how badly things could turn out. If you lose friends, well that’s a shame, but you did the right thing, and the right thing isn’t always easy. 

     Once it was decided that my husband and I were finally calling it quits , I was under the impression I knew most of what had gone on behind my back. Under the circumstances, I did what I thought I should do and got checked for STDs.  My soon to be ex pretty much told me it was a waste of time because of time frames and such, but I was soon very glad that I had done it anyway and very relieved everything came back ok.  Once the rumor mill started buzzing that the end was near, then, and only then, did people start crawling out of the woodpile. Person after person, story after story, name after name.  I began to wonder who the heck I had been married to, some twisted , alcoholic version of  Don Juan? While I was grateful for the validation because it took away any and all guilt I had left over from my decision to walk away, it was hard to know that over the years, so many people had my life in their hands. But I get it, we haven’t been raised to view this sort of thing from that aspect. To most of us, it’s a simple formula of not wanting to cause any trouble. We haven’t been raised or trained to think information we hold is in fact not ours to hide.  It belongs to someone else. What they choose to do with it is up to them, but it is their’s and their’s alone. I’m not angry. I have literally made the same decision to turn away and hope things turn out better than they are as I know it.  Honestly, I think that’s how life works. We are taught by experience, then we try to teach others.  If they listen they pass it on and so forth. Ideas and attitudes change.  If they don’t then life keeps throwing lessons out to people till eventually the point gets across.  

     So here is my lesson for you. Do the right thing. Even if you don’t know how it will turn out. Good or bad, get involved. If you do it for years and it makes a difference for only one single person, I promise, That’s success. 

To the Woman that Slept with My Husband ...

   

 

December 2020 
     

     For almost a year, my husband of 2 decades has put a lot of effort into keeping you a secret.  I would like to say that I was surprised by the news, but it wasn’t the action, rather the timing that threw me a curveball.  He generally saves these sorts of surprises for a more dramatic cat and mouse game.  One he claims to hate but is always the first to roll the dice and begin. Blurting out this truth was most likely a mistake due to copious amount of alcohol, or it could be that he was just angry at me over something stupid and needed this harsh reality to shock me into panic mode. In the past it’s lead to negotiations and compromise to keep the family together, an automatic response or learned behavior on my part. 

     Yes, I said, before.  You are certainly not the first.  The circumstances of contact may be different, the situation more physical, but I can assure you his loyalty has always been in question.  I stopped counting after around 10. I will say that you have the privilege of being the last, at least for me. He presents this situation as if he wouldn’t be broken up whether you stay or go. He speaks of you as simply an arrangement he could have taken or left-and that you feel the same. It’s hard to imagine two people being so callous, emotionless about such a hurtful act. He’s become very good at lying to me, as well as himself, so I have to take everything he says as, at the very least  a half truth if not a full blown deception.

     He’s been  consistent in throwing all the classic excuses for having an affair as an explanation.  All of which have been met by me, head on and proven to be complete bull shit.  My answer is there’s no justification for any of it. Neither of us has an excuse for cheating. We both came from previous relationships as victims of infidelity. Both adamant that we would never put another human being through that pain.  But over time, the more I tried to keep us together, the more he danced in the grey areas and pulled further and further from his family. 

     Family, It’s not just me that is affected by this. He says you’re a mother.  I can’t imagine that your ‘devil may care’ attitude would prevail if your child were hurt by someone.  Yet you participate in actions that will harm someone else’s child emotionally. Would my husband have strayed anyway if you were not his accomplice? Most definitely. But it intrigues me how narcissistic society has become.  Nothing ever matters unless it affects them directly. Empathy is a thing of the past.  Screw the rest of the world.  

      My first reaction was to chastise you. To bless you out.  To rage, insult you, simply put, to hurt you as you hurt me.  Lord knows through the years, I became an expert at ripping apart the “other woman”.  My skills are pretty impressive if I do say so myself. However tonight during a random tit for tat with my soon to be ex, I found myself in a very odd position. The subject of facing you, receiving an explanation, some sort of closure from this woman he describes as “just soooooo easy”, seemed to kick off a familiar attitude. The non involvement clause of being in a relationship of any kind with him was triggered. No one is aware of it before entering into his company.  Years and years of stirring up trouble, pitting people against each other, being right in the center of a hellacious shit storm and swirling right along with it, and when it all comes tumbling down, he walks away with his hands up. Chaos he participates in and creates suddenly becomes “not my problem”  and “none of my business”.  Yes, that is what he said regarding you. Wiping his brow declaring his hatred of drama, all the while laughing at the results.  My dear woman, do not expect him to ever defend you or take your side with anything. Especially if you’re not present to see his cowardice in person.  And if he does tell you he did, it’s a lie, a show that will serve a bigger purpose in the future. It’s not genuine. 

     Tonight, he completely threw the woman he’s used for sex the past 10 months, to the wolves. No remorse or regret.  And the crazy part is, he would watch me tear you apart, have a good chuckle, wait what he considers an acceptable amount of time, and then hit you up again. I know this because it’s happened before. And if you’re like all the others, you’ll forgive him. 

     Tonight, I found myself defending you.  I could not believe it. Do I like you? Absolutely not. Do I forgive you? Hell no.  But I happen to believe that when you enter into an agreement, good or bad, it should be a ride or die situation.  You both participated, you both should stand together. That’s what’s right. 

     That’s my downfall though isn’t it? Thinking about what’s right.  Two people engaging in such disgusting acts of selfishness aren’t thinking about what’s right.  But I do.  Every culture, throughout time has a word or phase for it. Reap what you sow, karma, every action has an equal opposite reaction, what goes around comes around.  In my younger days, I rained damnation on many a home wrecker. It requires a lot of anger and energy. Energy that I simply do not have anymore.  Whether you stay with him or not, I have faith that the Universal law of balance will have its way with both of you. And this fight, as much as I would love it, does not have to be mine.  This one I’m going to leave to a higher power. However, if there’s a chance for a cheap shot, am I going to take it? Yeah probably......Oh who am I kidding, of course I will! But that’s my part to play in all this, I deserve to get that jab in. Consider it payment for having your back, when your lover ran the other way .  

     Still, I do not single you out to blame in all this. You are a willing participant but, there would be no sin to share in, had my husband not gone in search of it. I’m not blind to that fact. However, this is your letter, not his. He is well aware of my feelings toward his actions. As I sort through my own feelings and move forward with my life, I’m comforted by these words written, describing the other woman. Not only does this hold true for you, but for all the other women who provided entertainment and distraction in this relationship that I tried so desperately to salvage. 

     “She accepts the very worst parts of the wayward husband; the liar, the cheater, the deceiver, the broken man. His behavior is lower than low, but that’s ok with her. She accepts trashy behavior, because she is trash and has no conscience. She has no self esteem because she knows her value-her value as the weakest most injured of the herd. She accepts his cheating ways and lowlife behavior because she knows her place in the pack-and it’s at the end of the row. Bringing up the rear.”  

     I don’t know who wrote this. I wish I did! I want to give them not only credit but a high five. If anyone knows, please tell me, so I can post their name all over it. They were spot on. You may be the other woman,but I’m the better woman. You can sleep with him, I prefer to sleep alone. There will be wounds inflicted on you that you never see coming, scabs that slowly turn to scars. But when the man you choose belongs to another, expecting Prince Charming is  nothing but fantasy. God will not bless a union born from chaos and pain inflicted on others.  After the hell I’ve been through over the past two decades, I can honestly say that despite the gut wrenching heartache, I appreciate the freedom that will come from this.  You and he deserve each other. 

     It would be selfish and petty of me to hope that when the Storm hits, you think of me, finally understanding how I feel. I will however, wish you Good Luck, Hun. It won’t help, but You’re gonna need it. 

     

Irish Eyes Smiling

      For me, travel is cathartic. A history nerd by nature, standing in a spot where others stood while influencing generations that followed, brings on a euphoric high.  I read once that the gas argon, that we take in with every breath, is the same as it was hundreds, thousands of years before; it doesn’t ever change or interact with other elements. With every breath we take, we literally breathe the same air our ancestors did.  What they took into their lungs and pushed out is taken into our bodies, providing life to us as well as it did them. We are all connected in this way. We are all part of each other. Learning about it was exciting enough, but it wasn’t until I was on top of a mountain near the area my family came from in Ireland and took a deep breath, that the thought really sank in. I felt both humbled and strong at the same time. It was a powerful feeling.  

     Traveling with my kids is my favorite thing of all. It’s loud, chaotic, and sometimes confusing, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. They are the ones I want to share with, not get away from. They are the ones I want to photograph in front of monuments and breathtaking scenery.  I did not get to travel much when I was younger. It was, however, something I constantly thought about.  While my friends were talking about Disney World or Six Flags, I imagined what it would feel like to look up through the center of the Eiffel Tower. I wanted my kids to know there was more to life than what was in their own backyards. I can not say I have 4, straight A, honor role students. Well not anymore anyway. They started out that way, then tanked when we moved this last time, but all of them have the ability to ease into a conversation about airlines, how to get through Customs, and the differences between a hotel, a B&B, and a Hostel.  I’m pretty proud of that.  I hope soon to add learning how to look for things when unable to speak the language to that list, as so far they have only been to places that spoke English.  

     For me, I am a visual learner. I enjoy seeing, feeling, and smelling as I learn.  The process leaves the experience in my head much longer than simple story telling.  Walking the roads of Fairies and Kings while hearing their tales is healing to me, and I remember them vividly.  My children remember them as well.  I will likely never be wealthy and leave money for them to split.  But I can leave them this, memories, experiences, adventure. Not just for themselves but with each other.  Hopefully forming a bond that I was never able to have of sibling closeness. And that has to be the richest of all gifts.  

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

     Wow, it’s been over 3 years since I’ve been on here. How crazy is that? Time seems to slip by so much faster, the older you get.  Moments are more precious when you realize how few could be left. Reading back through my blogs, so much has happened, but so much has stayed the same.  I have traveled. Ireland was a big trip.  The whole family went. I’ll save the details for a separate post.   We took a vacation to Utah to Arches National Park. The desert is magnificent. We are so far surviving the Covid insanity. Being essential has its perks.  I haven’t felt the stress that many of my neighbors have. And I am thankful for that. The biggest news of all would be an upcoming divorce.  That would be where things stayed the same I suppose. 

      It is a fairly new development actually. Something that came out of the blue.  A week before Thanksgiving, after an all day beer marathon, my soon to be Ex downed an entire bottle of white wine, picked a fight, then stood up and announced he had a girlfriend and her name is Wendy. Most names in my blog I tinker with so some sense of privacy remains. But if you are going to have an affair for almost a year with a married man you met off Tinder (allegedly), I figure who am I to worry about your reputation? It’s not like anybody worried about my feelings during any of this. As with Ireland, the details will come later,  as I’m still processing it all. But I suppose I have moved past the sad phase and into angry.  

     Being sad or angry this time of year is tough. His timing in sharing his out of house hobby couldn’t have been worse. During the first week alone, I had to look at his face THREE separate days. The oldest child’s birthday, Thanksgiving (my favorite holiday), and the youngest child’s birthday.  That week however, he had the decency to come, stay as long as absolutely necessary then leave.  As the weeks ticked by, he started to become more comfortable getting back into the regular routine of coming home on the weekends after working out of town (a whole hour away).  The past two weekends he’s stayed over night , which has done nothing but rub me the wrong way.  But it’s the holidays and upsetting the children isn’t on my to do list, so for them and the sake of what will likely be the last Christmas we have, in a traditional sense with each other, I’ll deal with it. Besides, boundaries have never been something I am proficient in. I generally have to work up to it. 

     I absolutely love the holidays. Not so much for gifts, but for the atmosphere. Tonight is Christmas Eve.  The tree is lit, the presents wrapped, dinner is finished.  Normally we would have sent the kids off to bed by now to put some finishing touches on a few extra surprises we would have for them. The holiday teamwork is non existent this year.  The gifts aren’t from “mom and dad” they are from either mom or dad.  But so far the kids haven’t noticed. The kids are still awake and running around. I’m the one that went off to bed. Let them spend some time with Dad.  Who knows what kind of arrangements will come after this.  I haven’t played any Christmas music or made any cookies, even though I bought everything to make them. This year, I just keep waiting for it to be over. Hoping that once it’s done, I will see less of him and maybe I will have a chance to pull myself together. 

     In the meantime, I have enjoyed the lights. The Salmon was delicious (says the ashamed vegetarian). It was better than the Greek yogurt that pretty much has become all I’ve eaten the last month ( lost 12 pounds, cha-ching) . Jim Carrey brought me pleasure in watching The Grinch for the 50th time. There are little happy moments that have snuck in and surprised me.  This time of year can be hard for so many people. I am still so fortunate. I am still so blessed.  I still see beauty even during this painful time.  Sitting here my thoughts are, even if it’s just for tonight, let’s all count our blessings instead of our problems. We will have plenty of time for the latter. Take time to smile and think about the good rather than the bad.  So to you and yours, I hope you have a very Merry Christmas. 🎄 And here’s hoping 2021 has good things in store for all of us. 

      

   

Forgiveness (Part 2)

The betrayal of a lover devastating.  However I do not think there is anything more gut wrenching than the betrayal of a friend.  I think a lot of times individuals don’t ever truly let their guard down in love.  In friendship however, it is not uncommon to share the secrets you carry deep within your soul.

My first husband could have made cheating an Olympic sport.  There were plenty of red flags before marriage but we were raised that sex before marriage was prohibited. In fact dating itself was for the purpose of finding a marriage mate.  It was not a social activity or rite of passage. It wasn’t a way for one to get to know and explore different personalities, allowing them to grow and figure out what they wanted in a lifetime partner. Marrying young was a given. We were red blooded teenagers in search of taboo.  I was actually older than most at a month shy of 24. My husband was 18. The week we came home from our honeymoon he started a six month affair with one of my friends that I have known from childhood. The day he confessed to me that it had happened I was in shock.  I could not even think.  I started to have problems breathing, my vision had this grey fog as if maybe I was going to pass out.  My body was shaking uncontrollably.  His attempts to comfort me just made things worse. It was at this point I realized that toward him I felt anger, a deep disgusting loathing of fury. But I was not surprised by the confession.  In fact I had many premonitions that this day would come.  It was expected. The pain was from the friends part.   This was where the hurt and agony was felt.  Memories of dancing around the back yard and driving through the country, head out the sunroof , hands up screaming in the wind, would flash through my mind. Long talks and secrets we shared echoed through my mind. I had never cried so hard in my life.  The relationship with my husband hit rocky ground but for me the abscence of her from my life was like a hammer to my soul.

My 2nd husband as mention before, excelled in the art of emotional affairs.  It was pointed out that his addictive personality could have something to do with it.  What he got from these women equaled a high. A release of uphoric chemicals in the brain that brought him up.  He could tell them anything, he could be anything, and they responded in ways that boosted his self esteem.   Eventually, he would realize he is not the man they think he is and the feeling comes down.  So he had to do it again and again to get the thrill.  But like most drug and alcohol experiences, it’s never going to feel as good as the first few times it happens. The body however, now craves what it had even if the high isn’t felt. He couldn’t stop because he would never run out of women and lies. The internet opened up limitless possibilities. While the discovery of these indiscretions was painful, there was none more damaging to me than yet another friend.   I was pregnant with our youngest child, he hated when I was pregnant. He also hated his job, which of course translated to hating his life.  My friend was going through a divorce. She was raised with us and married young too. Her husband however never got over the taste for young girls and she quickly aged out. He had eyes for the babysitter.  The magic of MySpace got all of us in touch with each other.  I can not tell you how lonely I felt during that time.  Many days I would wake up and the only thing that brightened my day was an email or message from her waiting to be read on my computer.  What I didn’t know was my husband was talking to her regularly as well. Thus began what a few counselors called an “inappropriate relationship” while others dubbed it an “emotional affair”, basically the same thing.  I did not find out until almost a year later.  When my husband had been acting strange. He kept baiting me, asking me what I had heard about him.  His paranoia was at a height I had never seen.  So I decided to do what he had dared me to do, and I went in search of his secret.   There on the computer screen inside his email were my friends boobs looking back at me.  The familiar feeling of icy cold from head to toe started to flow through me.  Those symptoms from years before came raging back. This could not be happening again.  Another friend lost and another marriage heading for annialation.

Forgiveness is a funny thing.  Two friends betrayals but different end results.  My friend from the first husband is still in my life.  Inevitably, the relationship is not the same and never will be.  But I have truly forgiven her.  I consider her a friend. I have confided in her, asked for advice and There is trust. The second is not that way.  Why the difference? Because of each woman’s response. My first friend upon learning I was aware, did not make excuses. A simple and honest apology came from her.   It was a few years before we reconnected, but not once did she contact my husband.  Even when we finally divorced, there was no rekindled relationship.The 2nd friend hung on. The two of them, husband and friend, coming up with creative ways to keep in touch.  The loss of control I felt over my life sent me to a very dark place.  Something inside me broke. I turned to what I had always done In the past, Forgiveness.  Years passed and I thought I had conquered the pain but, as my husband continued his online addictions, it was always present.  When my husband moved out, he told someone he was leaving me because this 2nd friend had broken up with her long term boyfriend.  My inquiries were met with denials, but my instinct had been right.  Over the years they kept that line of communication open. When they were both in limbo in their relationships they leaned on each other. My marriage over the past year has been a roller coaster.  Sometimes we had reconciled sometimes we hadn’t, Up and down like a see saw.  But in the back ground she was always there lurking, available for whatever boost he needed and calling it friendship.  Again he opens everything up to me, saying check on him at anytime, and it would prove he had nothing to hide.  I was his one and only.  What I didn’t realize at the time was he had hidden accounts under a fake name for the majority of his correspondence. But there was one he forgot about. One he missed. So as I stared at yet another picture of her tits in his inbox from only 3 months prior, I could not help but think my mother was right.  I forgive too easily.  The explanation from her was “most of her friends have seen her tits so it should no big deal”, and that “it was no different than what he would see on a porn site.” So what’s wrong with it? Maybe I’m just an old fashioned kind of woman but I think something’s very wrong with it, on both his and her part. This new snap shot had been sent during a time when he got drunk and filled out divorce papers.  So she had sent it I guess, to celebrate.  Congrats on the divorce, here’s the jugs that started it all. A joke to her, but an insult to me.   Sorry but that’s just a bad person.   A month after he filled those papers out, (that were never signed) he was begging me to just forget about them, to start over and give it another try, but he kept the photo and the “friendship”.  Now here’s another boundary issue.  If there is any chance at the marriage surviving there can be no “buddy”, no online women , no more any of it.  Whether we make it or not, I don’t know.  But forgiveness from this point on is given in small quantities. I miss the person I was, but the person I am now refuses to let the old me out of the box.

Primal Scream

Have you ever had so much anger and hurt inside that you just start screaming in your car as you drive down the road? As it grows louder with each gasp, you finally pull over.  Finally you let out something from deep inside you.  It’s not a howl, it’s not a Hollywood horror film screech.... it’s a deep throated, gut wrenching, wild, animalistic roar from the deepest darkest depths of your soul.  A war cry meant to encite fear into the hearts of those unfortunate enough to hear. It’s a satisfying release.  Although if you end up breaking down into tears after,  you may find yourself on the side of the road sobbing hysterically with a sympathetic cop watching over you till you pull your shit together..... just sayin’