Survivors Blog: 

Jack

When my wife found out about my affair, I was quick to repent and do what was necessary to reconcile and make amends. One of the principles I learned from Affair Recovery was that I needed to be totally honest. That means every time my wife asked a question, I was to answer it truthfully. Now this was new behavior since I had been lying for over a year. It was very hard to tell her some of the details of my deception. And yet, I understood that if I was going to rebuild trust, I needed to do so. And so I answered her every question – no matter what it was. It seemed like all the questions were difficult since every answer revealed what a self-centered, self-involved, low-life scumbag I had been. But the truth was the truth and now I was choosing a different path. And so I answered. I didn’t like what I was saying (because it was pretty horrible stuff), but I did like that I was being honest. The kind of questions my wife asked were: Did you love her? How long was the affair? How often did you have sex? Where did you have sex? Did she initiate or did you? Were there others? Was this the first and only? This was the general sense of what she asked. She did NOT ask detailed or graphic questions about sex. Our counselor asked her if she wanted me to give her more details and her response was simply to say, “I know what they did – they had sex. Details don’t change anything except make my own recovery more difficult.” Now, this was my wife’s response. This was what she felt she needed in her recovery. I know not every hurt spouse would be satisfied with that. Many want and feel like they need more. So, I would never assume that I know what a person needs in their recovery. However, my wife and I have talked to many hurt spouses who did ask the fine details – and got them. And often they say afterwards that they regret knowing so much. It does not seem to aid them in their recovery and just gives them more data for triggers. As the unfaithful spouse, it is my responsibility to respond to my wife’s questions with total honesty - no matter what she asks. If you are the unfaithful spouse – that is your responsibility as well. If you are the hurt spouse, before asking a question you might want to consider if the answer is something you really need to know? Is the answer something that will help you in your recovery? Is this part of getting your head around what happened (which is necessary)? Or is this question something that won’t be helpful? Will it only be fuel for intrusive thoughts and triggers? Taking time to determine what you really need to know can be a very helpful in your recovery.

How can you go through “the happiest time of the year” after having your world destroyed by the revelation of infidelity? How can you celebrate the birth of Jesus when all you feel like doing is mourning the death of your marriage? Is it even possible to have some sense of a Merry Christmas when triggers abound and all you feel is pain and misery? These were all questions that plagued my wife, Jill, as we headed into the holiday season after I had admitted to my year-long affair on October 1. We had gone to the EMS Retreat the first weekend of December and I felt like we had received some great coaching. We both wanted to believe what they told us – that we could experience healing over time if we practiced recovery principles. However, that didn’t change the fact that Jill was in significant pain from my betrayal and relief did not seem to be anywhere in sight. The holidays seemed like a set-up for more pain, like gasoline being poured on an already out-of-control wildfire. Every Christmas song, every window display, every television special, every Christmas card was just another reminder that “peace on earth” was not present in our home. I desperately wanted the pain to go away and for Jill to experience joy once again, but I knew that would take time. We were still in the early stages of recovery and knew that this was going to be very difficult. And yet, when January 1 rolled around, Jill admitted to me that it wasn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be. Now, don’t get me wrong – she was not saying it was easy. It was still hard and painful at times. But she did say that it wasn’t as devastating as she had originally anticipated. In looking back, we both agree that there were some things we did that helped to ease some of the pain. I will share them here, and maybe you will find them helpful as well. We lowered our expectations. We decided that we were not going to pretend that everything was all right when it wasn’t. That took the pressure off Jill to do Christmas as she always had done it in the past (e.g., decorate the house, have people over, bake a lot, etc.). I stepped up and took on most of the responsibilities around the house. I planned the days with our kids and parents who came in from out of town. I acted like an adult - instead of the self-indulgent, self-centered, spoiled child that had created this problem. I chose to be responsible. Jill says that this was the number one thing I did that helped her during this time. This alleviated the pressure she always felt around the holidays, as well as helped to build trust for me. We talked a lot. We checked in many times a day with each other. I asked her how she was feeling and she was honest in her response. Of course, I wanted to hear that she was feeling good, but I rarely heard that. And instead of trying to make her feel “happy” I just let her be what she was – sad, scared, miserable, and sometimes “not as bad as the day before.” I allowed her to be honest with what she was feeling without insisting that she be anything different. We did do some Christmas things. Whereas the level of our activity was a lot lower, we still did Christmas shopping, Christmas Eve service, rented some Christmas movies, and went to church. Some of these were distractions that helped to relieve the intensity of the pain. And some of these helped us to focus on Jesus – the healer of our hearts. Knowing the miracle of Christmas gave us hope for the miracle of healing in our lives. These were some of the things that seemed to help us make it through the holidays. It wasn’t perfect and not without pain, but it ended up being a lot better than we had expected. I hope and pray that you will experience some relief from the pain and sadness, some healing – and maybe even some joy during this time.

“If my husband ever cheated on me I’d leave him in a heartbeat.” This is what one of our friends blurted out in reference to the news of some celebrity’s infidelity. The woman who made this comment didn’t know that I had been unfaithful to my wife. This was not the first time we heard someone say this – and it would not be the last. It was early on in our recovery and this was a major trigger for my wife. My wife was flooded with a rush of emotions. Sadness. Fear. Panic. Along with being bombarded with these feelings, she was also deluged with questions: Was she doing the right thing by trying to work things out with me? Was I really earnest in my recovery? Was I still lying to her? Was my “recovery” just another deception like my affair? Was she being stupid for staying with me? It seemed like so many people were so certain what they would do in her situation, and yet she was filled with doubts. She wished that she could be strong and decisive like they were. And yet, their “apparent certainty” is not based in reality. The truth is until their world is turned upside down and everything they had come to believe about their spouse is being called into question - they have no idea what they will do. They really don’t. Until their world is blown apart, they don’t know how they will respond. Infidelity is a crisis like no other. It is unwise to make life-changing decisions in the midst of a crisis unless you absolutely have to. My wife was advised by wise counsel from AR to wait 12-18 months before she made any decision about whether or not to stay with me. Early on she continued to have many of the same feelings and she did second-guess herself. There were times she felt she couldn’t continue. However, regardless of what she felt, she did choose to wait and see. And as she did, things became self-apparent and her doubts began to disappear. (Of course, her doubts were assuaged only with the evidence of me taking full responsibility for what I had done and evidence of my own recovery). Going through the recovery process over time is the right thing to do. It really is the only way to make an informed decision.

Right after “D Day” I asked my wife for forgiveness. I desperately wanted my wife to forgive me. I had sinned against her and deeply hurt her and now I wanted to make it all right. I wanted this horrendously terrible destructive episode in our lives to be behind us. I wanted to move on. I wanted her to say “I forgive you” and for her to mean it. I didn’t just want lip service; I earnestly wanted it to come from her heart. I wanted to turn the page on this chapter of our lives and move forward. But that was what I wanted. I look back and see that so many of our problems were a result of what I wanted. I had made our marriage about me. And now I wanted her to forgive me. Again I was making it about what I wanted. It was my fault that we were here. The very fact that she had not left me or kicked me out of the house was more than I deserved. It was an indication of grace that she was even considering forgiveness. And so I asked for her forgiveness, telling her that I knew that I did not deserve it. I told her I knew it was a process and that I hoped and prayed one day she could forgive me. I did want her to forgive me. But there had been a change in my heart. I wanted her to forgive me for her benefit; not so that I could receive absolution or have relief from feeling so bad about what I had done. This was not about me. Certainly, I needed to be sincere in asking for forgiveness. But this was about God healing her heart in His timing. Not on my agenda or timetable. Love is patient. And God was helping me to truly love my wife. And so I waited. I am not saying I didn’t want her to hurry up and say: “I forgive you.” Of course I did. I probably thought that every day. But God helped me to give her the space to take the time she needed. And one day a miracle happened - she forgave me.

This was one of the first questions my wife asked me after she found out about my infidelity – “Why?” We had been married for 25 years, had two beautiful children, she had stayed at home with the kids when they were young, we were deeply involved in our church, we were active in the community, I had coached my kids’ soccer, basketball, and baseball teams, and we enjoyed each other’s company. Life seemed good. We did have our problems, but every couple does. That’s part of marriage. That’s part of life. But not every couple experiences infidelity. So why did I cheat? It took a while for the chaos in my life, my spirit, and my mind to settle down before I was able to explore deeply why I cheated. Once I established some equilibrium and received good counsel, I was able to get to the core of some of the issues. Here is what I have concluded: My wife and I were emotionally disconnected. Over the years I had become more and more reticent to tell my wife the truth about my heart. In part that was due to my own lack of awareness, and in part I didn’t want to deal with any upset it may cause. So, I told her what I thought she wanted to hear. This started out with small and gradually led to bigger things. I expected my wife to make me happy. I had believed that marriage was supposed to make me happy. I was very confused because I was not happy. And in fact, the more I tried to make my wife happy – the worse things got in our relationship and the more miserable we both were. I was like a blood-sucking leach trying to experience life through sucking it out of my wife. I thought (at the time) I was being virtuous – trying to make her happy. In reality I was very selfish as my motive was about me and not her. And she knew it. I had no boundaries. I grew up with three sisters and have always felt comfortable with women. I enjoyed connecting with women. I used to say that I was just being playful. After “D Day” a mentor of mine told me that I was not being playful, but seductive. I was looking for affirmation and attention and had developed a skill to get it from women. I was bored. I was under-challenged in my job, my kids were not around, my wife was traveling for her job, and I was alone a lot. I had lots of “down” time with nothing to fill the void. I was (unconsciously) looking for something to fill the void. I believed that I would never cheat. I was the last person I thought would ever commit adultery. I knew what was right and wrong. I was strong and I could handle any and all temptation. I was Superman. NOT! My pride led me to believe that I could get close to kryptonite and not be destroyed. That was foolish. I was a fool. I was 100% responsible for my infidelity. It was my fault. These things did not “make me” do it. However, these were things that made me vulnerable to cheating on my wife. I am still weak – but now I know I am. And in light of that, I can make different choices and therefore guard against being vulnerable.

It’s on the television, in the movies, in the news, on the internet, in the papers; infidelity is everywhere. Infidelity has always been around, but we live in a time when we have access to more information than ever before. And it seems that many find infidelity entertaining or newsworthy. Of course - I don’t and I am sure that anyone reading this doesn’t either. Infidelity is horrible and destructive and I wish that the world would just shut up and allow us to work on our recovery without constant reminders, harsh judgments, and really really really bad advice. Let the experts who know what they are talking about give their wisdom and speak the truth (like the people at AR). The last place we will find sound counsel about recovery is in theatres or late night talk shows. Right after my “D-Day” a few years back, Tiger Woods was all over the news about his sexual addiction. And then there was Sandra Bullock and her husband. And The Good Wife had just premiered. It was terrible. We could not go through a day without being hammered by infidelity everywhere. Of course, there were ever-present painful reminders without these, but they just added to our pain (especially my wife’s – since I had been unfaithful). Since it was clear that the media world around us didn’t care about helping us, we knew we had to do something. We knew we couldn’t totally avoid it, but at least we could try to minimize our exposure. And so we made choices to turn off the television, not watch movies, and not read articles that had infidelity themes. When infidelity was introduced on a show or news program, we would talk about whether to turn the channel or agree that it would be okay to watch (it was usually okay if it was not a major theme of the show). We took the opportunity talk it out and as a result we have experienced a much greater level of communication than we have ever had before my infidelity. It has also helped us to decrease the confusing pop-culture voices and focus on the healthiest path to recovery.

I am a liar. I have lied all my life. . For much of my life, my lies had to do with my inner world. That is, what I was thinking or feeling. I tried to paint a picture of a strong, mature, fearless, good – even godly man. I didn’t have insecurities or disappointments or fears. No, I forged ahead in the face of adversity, never doubting my resolve or my God. It wasn’t true, but it’s what I wanted others to believe. And so I lied. I maintained this facade with my wife as well. It wasn’t that she didn’t know me at all, but there were parts of me that I was relentless to keep from her. I believed that if she knew the real me - she would not respect or love me. And so I lied. I had been experiencing dissatisfaction in my marriage and I didn’t want to admit it to anyone. Even myself. The truth was not that I had a marriage problem. My problem was not my marriage. My problem was me! So I chose to have an affair. In the moment I didn’t think of the consequences or the people I would hurt – especially my wife. I was too self-centered and consumed with me. However, there were times I had moments of clarity and wanted to get out of it. But how could I do that and still keep my image intact? How could I tell the truth and still be respected and loved? I didn’t believe it was possible. But actually, deep within I think I wanted to tell the truth. I was tired of pretending. As horrible as it was to get “caught” – the lie I was living was eating away at my soul. And yet I was fearful that my wife would not love me if she knew the whole truth, if she knew the whole me. But then I received some great coaching. I was told that the only way I could give my wife the opportunity to love me unconditionally is to tell the truth. Tell the truth about everything and then let her choose. It was as simple as that. As scary as it was to consider it was also very freeing. I no longer had to try to control the outcome. Just tell the truth and allow her to choose. And so I did. And the amazing thing was that my wife actually respected me for my honesty. She even grew to trust me again – maybe even more. I am not saying I did it perfectly or that it was without any challenges. My wife is an amazing woman. She chose to love me and work to restore our relationship. The end result was healing for both of us as we experienced grace and love.

“How many times will I have to answer the same questions about my affair?” This was the thought I had as my wife asked me once again, “Why did you have the affair?” It had been many months since she had learned of my yearlong affair. Immediately we got into counseling, and within weeks we attended an Emergency Marital Seminar Weekend with Affair Recovery (AR). From the early days of discovery, she asked this question – along with a myriad of others. At first I was resistant to come completely clean. But after a while, with good coaching from AR, I chose to be as honest as possible. Lying had gotten me into the hell I had created. I figured I would give the truth a chance. And it was a much better way. I am not saying that telling the truth was pain-free. Oh no – there was a lot of pain in the truth. But it was a whole lot better, and ultimately was necessary for healing to take place. So my wife asked the same question again. And again. And again. And I answered again. And again. And again. There were times when my answers were absolutely the same as before. But there were also times, due to my own personal work and self-discovery, that I was able to give greater clarity to a previous question. It was not that I had been withholding (like I did during the affair), but I had learned some thing new. So I could see the benefit of kicking that apparently dead horse one more time (Where did that expression come from, anyway?). And yet, most of the time the answer was the same. Nothing had changed since she had asked the question the day before. The week before. The month before. I wished that I could just tell her to refer to the page 22 of “Answers About My Affair.” But that would not have been profitable (FYI: I did not write such a document). I have learned that I need to answer her questions as many times as she asks them. It is all part of the process. It is all part of the journey. It is all part of rebuilding. And by the way, over time the questions do subside.

This was one of the great truths I have learned through the recovery process from my affair. My choice to have an affair ripped my wife’s heart in two and almost destroyed our 25 year marriage. I used to fixate on the fact that I had ruined what I believed had been a good record. I no longer could boast as a superior husband, father, or even human being. I had cheated on my wife and I was now considered lower than pond scum. No longer could my wife or my children be able to say at my funeral, “he was a good man and faithful husband.” I had destroyed any chances of receiving a eulogy that would compel all those present to say to my grieving widow, “Jack was such a wonderful man. Knowing him has changed my life. My greatest regret is that I didn’t know him better.” Yeah, I used to think about that kind of stuff. I used to obsess over the choices I had made that had gotten me here. I would replay them in my mind along with the “if only” game. If only I had not chosen to be so self-centered. If only I had not blamed my wife for my dissatisfaction. If only I had taken responsibility. If only I had understood what loving my wife really meant. If only I had not had this affair. Now, these are all good issues to examine. Having a greater understanding of myself and my responsibility and what it means to love my wife – all great to know and critical to my recovery. But wanting a better past was futile. I had made horrible choices. I had crashed “an apparently” good marriage. There was no denying what I had done. I realized I could not change the past. And I had to learn to let it go. I had to give up hoping for a better past. Through my recovery I have learned that I can choose the present. I can create a better future with the help of others and God. I am not stuck obsessing over a terrible past, but looking forward to living every day to it’s fullest.

I never thought in my wildest imagination that I would be “that guy.” I was the last person most would have suspected of infidelity – including myself. I was not a “player.” I was not a monster. I was a good guy raised in a good environment with good values. My parents seemed to love one another and love my sisters and me. I wasn’t aware of any history of infidelity in my family. I had not been molested or experienced any trauma that could help me to explain away my behavior. I always believed I loved my wife. When we got married 28 years ago I sincerely wanted to spend the rest of my life with this woman. On my wedding day I had given myself to my wife with the full intention of loving and cherishing her until my heart stopped beating. I could not conceive ever cheating on her. What happened? How could I do such a thing? What derailed me? What caused me to do the most hurtful thing to the very person I loved the most on this planet? These questions kept running through my mind. They haunted me. I tried to minimize what I had done. I told myself I wasn’t as bad as some people. So I had “strayed.” That’s not the worse thing I could have done. It’s not like I had killed someone. Heck, my affair partner had even asked me to divorce my wife and run away with her. But did I? No! I chose to stay married (even though I did continue having the affair). Isn’t that worth something? Shouldn’t I be commended for that? Maybe I’m not as bad as some people say. Maybe I am good. Or maybe, just maybe, I was trying to avoid the pain of facing the truth. Yeah - I was “that guy.” At first I was very resistant to come to that conclusion. But with the help and counsel from Affair Recovery, I began to understand how I had gotten here. In doing so, I was actually able to take responsibility for what I had done. And in doing so, I could then take responsibility in my own healing as well as helping my wife to heal.

This is the question I asked my counselor. I was the one who had been unfaithful and wanted to know how long it would take for my wife and me to recover from what I had done. It had been a week since she had found out about my affair and I wanted to know how long before the end of the pain. I wanted a date. A small measure of time. Preferably something in the area of a few months. I would have even been all right with six months. My counselor was silent. I had a sneaking suspicion that the longer the silence the longer the recovery would be. I asked again.   She paused a little bit longer and said that things would be better in 90 days. We both would feel different. And in six months we would feel even better. And in one year we would feel even better.   It was nice knowing we would feel better – but “better” is a relative term. Does that mean we go from excruciating-non-stop-gut-wrenching-life-despairing-I wish-I-was-dead pain to just bad-and-sad-and-I-hate-my-life pain?   I wanted to know when we would be healed. I wanted a date on the calendar that I could know when the pain would stop and life would be good again. I think that’s a natural desire. In her wisdom, she never gave me such a thing. No one can give you a date. There are only general principles of healing that God seems to have built into our experience.   She was right. Things did get better – and are getting better. In fact, our marriage and our relationship with God has never been better. They are both beyond our wildest expectations. However, we are not “over” the affair. We will never be “over” it. It is a crisis that God has helped us work through – and we continue to do so.   Neither has life gone back to being normal. It never will be normal again. How can it be? But I am glad for that. That old life and the old marriage is dead. It had to die – in order for something beautiful to take its place. And that is what God has done – and continues to do.

I stared at the email. My head began to throb as my blood pressure soared out of control. I was short of breath. My arms went numb. I don’t know what a heart attack feels like, but it felt like I was having one. My wife had just received an email from my affair partner (AP) telling her what had been going on. My wife then forwarded it on to me with the question above. I thought I had ended things with my AP with the understanding that we would not tell anyone. Obviously, she had other ideas. My wife was totally blindsided and was devastated. I was devastated. I had let myself believe that I had narrowly missed catastrophe. I had done everything I could to “manage” my situation to insure to keep my life as-I-knew-it intact. And now, the end of my affair appeared like it was going to be the end of my marriage as well. And the end of so much of my life. Things were out of control. Out of my control. I did confess to the affair, but I didn’t come completely clean. I still wanted to manage things. I was still spinning the truth in my head in an attempt to spin my words. I was starting to be honest, but only on my terms. Things were not getting better. I knew that telling the truth was the “right” thing to do, but it sure didn’t feel good. In fact, things got worse. My wife was deeply depressed, sad, and angry. She was consumed with nothing but the pain of my betrayal. She spent every waking moment asking God and herself: “Will the pain ever go away?” “Will I ever be happy again?” “Will I ever love him again?” “Will I ever be able to love anyone again?” She told me that she wished I was dead. I told her I wished the same thing. Even though it was painful (for both me and my wife), I finally decided to start telling the whole truth. I had been counseled that as long as I keep the truth from my wife, I was not giving her the opportunity to choose to love me unconditionally. I was told – tell the truth about yourself – and then she gets to choose. Stop trying to manage and control. And so I did. I told the truth about the affair. I told the truth about my fears. I told the truth about my insecurities. I told the truth about what was going on in my head and my heart – things I had never told anyone. Even myself. It wasn’t easy at first. I was tearing down an image I had created over years. Life was out of control and the best thing I could do was to acknowledge that fact, speak the truth and trust God to sort it all out. My efforts had only led to destruction. I figured it was time to trust God. The more I speak the truth, the more I see God work in my life. He is changing me. I am still faced with the reality that I am a one-man self-centered real-life wrecking crew. But I am now trusting God to change me. And he is. The amazing thing is that my wife now trusts me more than she ever did before. That didn’t happen overnight. I had lied for so long, it took time to rebuild trust. I had to become trustworthy. And God is healing our relationship in ways we never thought possible.