Sunday morning came after a fitful night of sleep. Discovering my husband’s secret was beyond rationalizing or applying logic to find my way forward.
Little did I know, this cold Sunday in February, would be the last day for quite some time that I’d have my poop in a group. (That’s our family’s way of saying “my shit’s together”.)
I tried so hard to go to church without exploding.
I failed. Miserably. I let my husband have it with both barrels.
Have you ever watched the movie , “The Outlaw Josey Wales”? There’s an epic scene when Clint Eastwood confronts his enemy, brandishing and clicking two pistols, one empty click at a time. Then for extra emphasis, pulls out two more empty pistols and does the full barrel click, click, click. Have you seen it? It’s a pretty awesome movie scene. No bullets. Just drama.
Anyway the rest of this particular part of my story is pretty dry and typical. Yelling, screaming, and seething rage filled questions. His first response an attempt to lie and deny. My response to quote chapter and verse of their emails, followed by, “How could you do this to us?!”
Anyone who has been [here] knows the fracture that outed infidelity brings. It’s a violent rendering of the heart into so many pieces, with labels like “heartbroken”, “sickening”, “grief”, “rage”, “humiliation”, “fear”, and on the list goes.
And if you’re in the middle of this set of shoes, please know you are not alone in this world. You really aren’t. You’ll be surprised as you walk forward in these shoes just how many people you will find have worn them before you.
Reach out to people in your life who are safe people, tell them your story, and get the support you’re going to need.
Comments requested. The more we share and give/receive compassion, the better place this world becomes.
My story continues in the next article: https://briques-tuiles.com/2019/01/09/what-about-you/