Survivors' Blog

Times are in Central Time (GMT-5:00) 1-888-527-2367 | [email protected] | #hoperising LUNCH DETAILS Women & Men Lunch Small Groups 12:10pm - 1:10pm CT No spouses please. The Women's Lunch Small Groups are for women only and vice versa for the Men's. WOMEN'S LUNCH GROUPS MEN'S LUNCH GROUPS Lunch Discussion Questions We recommend that someone volunteer to be the group facilitator and lead the discussion. Your group may decide to have the facilitator call on individuals to share. You could also go in alphabetical order. Your group might also choose to spend more or less time on any given question. This group is for YOU, so make it your own! Share your first name and how long since discovery/disclosure. In two minutes or less, share why you are joining the Hope Rising conference this year. What is something from the morning sessions that inspires you or gives you hope? What have you done that helped you get through an intrusive thought, trigger, or reminder? What have you learned about yourself during the recovery process? What is something you want to start doing that you're not currently doing? How will you continue to find support and seek healing after this conference? Important Note: If you would like to share any contact information, you may do so now. In order to maintain confidentiality, Affair Recovery will not be able to give out personal or contact information. PROGRAM Presentation Notes, Speaker Bios, and Agenda can all be found here! View Program (printable) AGENDA 8:45 Livestream Starts 9:00am Session One Leslie Hardie - Managing Intrusive Thoughts, Triggers, & Reminders Jeremy - The Power of Healing Moments Break 10:35am Session Two Job & Julie Lopez - Brain Science and Betrayal JR - Emotions and Curiosity Jenn Howie - Help! I've Gone Missing! Lunch 12:05am Lunch Discussion Groups over Zoom Break 1:20pm Session Three Candace - A Lawyer, a Priest, and an Accountant Matt - The Man's Journey Brad & Kristen Warren - Overcoming Betrayal from Sexual Addiction Break 2:50pm Session Four Rachel - Overcoming Betrayal Trauma's Physical Effects Leslie Hardie & Dr. John Mark Haney - Live Q&A Session with Harboring Hope Co-Authors Dr. John Haney - Healing Your Sexual Self After Betrayal Harboring Hope Online Course Join The Notification List Learn About Harboring Hope This course is a lifeline for betrayed spouses. Authored by Leslie Hardie LCSW and Dr. John Haney PhD LPC-s, it sells out very quickly each month so join the email notification list, so you don't miss out when registration opens! Learn About Harboring Hope ` Donate To The Scholarship Program Help us raise funds for those who can't afford to get help! Donate Here SPEAKERS Leslie Hardie Keynote Speaker, LCSW, Co-Author of Harboring Hope Managing Intrusive Thoughts, Triggers, & Reminders After discovering your partner's infidelity, the onslaught of triggers and reminders is overwhelming. Unwelcome intrusive thoughts seemingly come out of nowhere and hijack one's mind and emotions. It is hard to live life - sleeping and eating are elusive, and daily functioning feels largely impossible. Learn more about yourself and how to manage some of the biggest mental and emotional challenges on this healing journey. Jeremy Alumnus The Power of Healing Moments It can be difficult to imagine, in the midst of a fresh betrayal, what life might look like seven years from now. Jeremy shares about his own journey, the marker moments along the way over the last seven years that led to him experiencing a wound eventually healing into a scar. It can be difficult to imagine but there is a new normal available to all of us if we are willing to look inward, do the work and look outward, relying on those around us as we navigate the roller coaster ride of betrayal and healing. Job & Julie Lopez M.A., LPC, EMS Weekend Specialist Brain Science and Betrayal Understanding the impact of betrayal on the brain can give us greater understanding of why discovery of infidelity causes symptoms of trauma. Job and Julie answer some of the most common questions and give insights on how to heal. JR Alumnus Emotions and Curiosity Jenn Howie PSAP, ERCEM, Betrayal Recovery Coach Help! I've Gone Missing! "I just want the old me back." These words have echoed in my mind and resonate with many healing from betrayal. Together we will delve into the profound interconnectedness of relationships and identity, exploring how betrayal impacts our sense of self. Join me to learn how to reclaim and strengthen your identity after experiencing betrayal. Candace Alumna A Lawyer, a Priest, and an Accountant Candace is honored to be a member of the Affair Recovery team, where she serves as a Customer Care & Course Coordinator. In this role, she passionately supports and encourages participants as they embark on their healing journeys. Having begun her own recovery in late 2020, Candace is proud to walk alongside others through the drama and trauma caused by infidelity. As a Vlogger, she combines her personal experiences with a splash of humor, offering relatable and uplifting content to those in need. Matt Alumnus The Man's Journey Brad & Kristen Warren MS, LPC, EMS Weekend Specialist Overcoming Betrayal from Sexual Addiction Recovery from your partner's sexual addiction can sometimes seem overwhelming. Join Brad and Kristen as they answer some of the most common questions and provide insight to healing by sharing their own recovery journey. Rachel NBC-HWC & Alumna Overcoming Betrayal Trauma’s Physical E ects Rachel, a survivor of infidelity and Certified Wellness Coach, invites you to explore the intricate relationship between betrayal and our health. This presentation will explore how betrayal trauma affects your nervous system and can manifest in various physical symptoms. We'll delve into practical strategies for managing these reactions, focusing on nervous system regulation and lifestyle medicine that can help you regain your balance and sense of well-being. You're not losing it—you're just human. Discover hope and healing for your physical health. Leslie Hardie & Dr. John Mark Haney Harboring Hope Co-Authors Live Q&A Session Experts John and Leslie answer your questions LIVE! Dr. John Mark Haney PhD, LPC, Harboring Hope Co-Author, Affair Recovery Expert Panel Member Healing Your Sexual Self After Betrayal Let's face it, having a loving and healthy sense of our bodies and sexual selves and a vibrant sex life with our partner can be challenging even when we are not facing the most painful rejection of our lives. Of the many homecomings that we must face post infidelity, claiming and loving our sexual selves, and if we choose, reengaging sexually with our unfaithful partner is perhaps the most difficult and nuanced journey we experience. For many, the foundation was never that strong to begin with, but hidden in the wreckage is a chance to claim more lovingly the God-given gift of our sexuality. Follow Us! Twitter Instagram YouTube Facebook Times are in Central Time (GMT-5:00) 1-888-527-2367 | [email protected] | #hoperising

One of the hardest lessons to grasp in the journey towards healing from betrayal is realizing your inability to control the path your wayward mate takes. This is particularly counterintuitive for those of us who have dedicated our lives to growing relationships and a family. We have invested our time and energy in paving the way for our loved ones to succeed and be happy. We have cared as deeply for our partner and family as we have for ourselves. Our life has revolved around their safety and growth. We must be careful not to burn out or overextend ourselves in the service of others and to take good care of ourselves. This is a reality we may not like. However, denial of that reality will not change it, no matter how ardently we wish things to be different. We need to respect our limits to remain healthy. The desire to overextend, however, is very normal when those we love are struggling. This truth suggests the brilliant work of Dr. Robert Weiss in his seminal book, Prodependence. As he defines it: “Prodependence is an attachment-based theory of human dependency which, by definition, states that those who partner with an active addict are loving people who may be caught in circumstances beyond their ability to healthfully cope. Moreover, their desire to help the addict and all related actions toward helping the addict demonstrate nothing more than a normal and healthy attempt to remain connected to a failing loved one while facing extraordinarily difficult circumstances.” He advises that looking at addiction not from a trauma perspective, but from an attachment perspective, illuminates the dark road of betrayal grief. Instead of viewing the loved ones of addicts as the inevitable victims of a traumatic past that has caught up with them and is now repeating itself in their adult lives—"prodependence views them as brave individuals struggling to love another person even in the face of the behavioral choice they have made. With prodependence, there is no shame or blame, no sense of being wrong, no language that pathologizes the caregiving loved one. Instead, there is recognition for effort given, plus hope and valuable instruction for healing." We, the betrayed, are suffering from possibly the most significant trauma inflicted upon us in our lives. In an instant, with the discovery of betrayal, our history is turned upside down, and our file cabinet of personal past is knocked over, spilling the entire contents across the floor in willy-nilly disarray. What we thought of as the closest, perhaps safest relationship in our life has now become the source of our greatest grief and fear. The attachment rupture is enormous. I remember the long nights, riddled with deep, lonely grief following my husband’s decision to drop the fifty-megaton bomb and admit to his long affair. I looked up at the stars hoping to hear the voice of my departed mother and dad or maybe my wise old grandmother offering advice. What to do, where to start, how to dig my way out of this mess I never imagined, asked for, or created. Where do I begin? Who am I, if not the person I thought of as “wife?” And who is this man who has acted as though he was a faithful spouse for years? What spouse would not be looked upon as valiant if she cut back on volunteer activities, took on a second job, looked drawn and exhausted, all-in support of a spouse that had cancer, Parkinson’s or dementia? Why should there be any less empathy and understanding extended to a partner whose entire life history and security have just blown up via the discovery of a spouse’s betrayal? Why wouldn’t she grasp for any help, any life preserver in the tempest of her now topsy-turvy life? She would naturally look for help for her unsound and disordered partner. How can she help him heal so he might return to be her trusted partner in life? Deep down inside, she wonders if he will ever be safe again. She signed up to be a life partner in sickness and health. In this life-shattering betrayal, she longs for the old days of attachment and ‘love.’ Much like her inability to heal the wounds suffered by her spouse from a serious car accident, she is likewise powerless to do the deep emotional healing work she faces to understand what led him to betray all he swore to love and protect. She cannot make the discoveries of his own life’s traumas, the delusion-driven choices he has made, nor can she repair the damage he has left in his wake. That and more are his work to do. How painful this realization can be. No amount of wishing, hoping, providing healing resources, or explaining her grief to him will build the framework of a healthier life for him. He must be willing. He has to be consistent, determined and committed to walking the long, difficult path toward healing. She cannot give him the gift of willingness. Oh, the wrenching pain of this reality. The sadness. The helplessness. Those who deny this reality sentence themselves to disillusionment, disappointment, resentment and needless angry drama. The answer lies in the ability to choose to care for yourself and tend to the deep wounds suffered. This is similar to the in-flight instruction to put on one’s oxygen mask before attending to anyone else. It’s not that betrayal is not a huge problem. It is. But it is not the central problem. Surviving and moving back into yourself is paramount before any wise and careful decisions can be made on how to proceed. What may have seemed central to your life, the care of others, must now take a back seat. If a praying person, pray for his willingness and heart change as if he were undergoing open heart surgery and recovery. Pray. Try to influence his decisions if he is open to listening, but at the end of the day, he must choose and walk the difficult path of change.

To Tell or Not to Tell…Our Friends and Family People struggle with the decision of whether to tell friends and family and, particularly their children, about the infidelity that occurred in their marriage. For some, the ugly truth comes out before they consider it. Sometimes, kids are collateral damage in the ensuing chaos, overhearing or directly witnessing the arguments and drama by parents overwhelmed with their emotions. I’ve heard both sides of this dilemma declare with certainty that their perspective is the only right choice for one reason or another, but I’ve also heard people regret how they handled it and wish they could go back and do it differently. Some feel it is inherently wrong and deceptive to keep a secret like this within a family, and the truth should be shared no matter what, while others argue there are no circumstances in which children should ever learn of their parent’s betrayal, even as adults. In my time spent on the Affair Recovery forums, I have heard from many people whose children learned of the infidelity amid the discovery alongside the betrayed partner or overheard enough to put the pieces together. Sometimes, an overwhelmed spouse blurts it out to friends or family as they begin the free fall into shock and confusion, often regretting it later. Some affairs are made very public, and everyone knows, whether you want them to. In those instances, choosing whether to tell is moot, and the path forward is more about damage control. But for those that still have that choice, which is correct? Do we tell our friends and family, or not? What about our kids? What do we do? There is no single right answer to this question. People are unique, and situations differ. There are many variables and nuances between families, spouses, betrayal stories, and other factors, so each situation is individual. Family and friends vary in their emotional capacity and stability; of course, age is a factor in whether (and how) to discuss something so difficult with children. There is no single “best” way to handle this, but I can tell you what we decided to do and how it worked out for us. First, some background. During my husband’s affair, I told no one of my suspicions. Not a word. I accused him directly, and he denied it, but I never said anything to anyone else and kept all my fears and feelings to myself. Over ten years passed before my husband finally confessed. During all that time, I never told anyone, and he had certainly never told anyone - other than the affair partner, of course. After he confessed, I didn’t know what to do about sharing this nuclear bomb that had just been dropped in my lap. My world crumbled around me and I was very alone. Neither of us wanted to share this news with our family or friends. I needed support, but I couldn’t get past the shame (mine and his) to open up to anyone I knew. I had already carried it alone for a long time and didn’t even know if I could get the words out of my mouth. My husband’s affair had ended years earlier, so it felt punitive for me to want to tell anyone. Initially, I believed that I should just be able to “get over it” since it was a long time ago and that there was something wrong with me for feeling so much pain. I did not immediately understand the magnitude of the impact this would have or the benefit of having someone to talk to. I was ashamed of his infidelity, and I felt worthless. I thought sharing it would just highlight my deficits for all to see, and then they would also know I was not enough. Eventually, I told one longtime coworker, but I soon regretted it and otherwise kept it hidden. I heard someone describe the feeling of hiding a dead body while trying to heal. That’s pretty much what it felt like, and I put a lot of energy into keeping our secret. It was nearly impossible to keep my emotions in check and pretend everything was fine day after day, but that is exactly what I did, at work and home. So much so that it was hard to devote time and space to healing, and it was counterproductive in that regard. Over and over each day, I would leave the room to cry and return with a fake smile and pretend to be okay. I felt fake. I felt disconnected from my kids, my friends, and my family, and they had no idea I was in any distress at all. As time went on, I spent more and more time separating the two lives, the public façade and my private reality. I made many mistakes along the way, and I wish I had done many things differently, but for the most part, I don’t regret keeping this from our children, family, and friends during this very raw time. It was very hard and lonely. However, I felt very unsettled about lying to everyone. They only knew the fake mom/friend/daughter who pretended to be okay. It felt really unfair and kept me from feeling connected to them, which was just another loss I experienced because of the infidelity. I also worried about the potential that our kids might have overheard our conversations and possibly already knew and felt we were intentionally keeping a secret from them or worried about our family. But there was no way to find that out without asking, and I wasn’t ready to open that can of worms. People I had met through AR forums and groups told me I should tell my kids, who were teens / young adults at the time. They offered perspectives from their situations, but for most of them, the disclosure had negatively impacted their relationships with their kids, and it scared me. But their situations were not mine, and telling my kids felt wrong. And yet, I also felt deceitful for hiding this “thing” in plain sight in the middle of our family. It was a conundrum, and I could not predict the outcome if we decided to share the truth. If we told anyone, we couldn’t take it back again. So, I felt more comfortable just holding off, maybe forever, to avoid having it go badly. Over time, as I began to heal slowly, I revisited this question here and there in my mind. I still had all the same hesitations, but I also felt resentful for feeling like I had to keep a significant part of my life hidden from the people closest to me. I felt they didn’t even know me anymore. After several years of recovery and finally getting to a more stable place, I revisited the idea of telling our children and discussed it with my husband. I was not looking for a pound of flesh, nor did I want to damage my kids' relationships with their father. I was also concerned about how they would navigate the information and how it might impact them individually. However, I was wrestling with the inauthenticity of all of my close relationships, as the real me, the most gut wrenching parts, remained hidden. Not only do they not know about the infidelity and the resulting trauma, but they don’t know that for a while, I was so depressed I struggled just to stay alive. To be present. To be a parent, a daughter, and a friend. I wondered if my kids thought I just lost interest in them or didn’t care. They also did not know about the strength it took to face this and the deep respect, partnership, and support my husband and I have since found in each other. My husband held me together when I couldn’t do it for myself and showed strength and humility my kids knew nothing about. I also started to think about my kids as they entered into adulthood. I wondered about their expectations for marriage and if they would share their struggles or face them alone and in secret as we had done. I didn’t want that for them. I didn’t want my kids to have the fake Instagram standard for marriage where everyone looks happy and shiny on the outside, and the viewer is left feeling like they are the only ones facing hard things. That isn’t real and can be so isolating. I wanted my kids to know marriage is hard and everyone will endure things they didn’t expect, even if it isn’t to the level of infidelity. I wanted them to know that even if everyone else’s marriage looks easy and perfect, they hide the reality of any relationship between two imperfect people. Some people may have very little trouble in their marriage, but it gets hard for everyone at some point, which is just reality. (To be clear, I don’t consider infidelity to be a routine part of marital hardship; it is in a category of its own and carries more pain than any other relational situation. However, in general, all marriages will face some hardship, and unfortunately, some of those will include betrayal.) I wanted my kids to know how to be resilient and see a living example that marriage can survive difficult and painful things and is important enough to put forth the effort. In our marriage, our tendency has always been to keep all marital conflicts hidden from our children when possible, but doing that can send the message that there isn’t any conflict, which is just not real. I didn’t want to get into the weeds with them about any of our issues. Still, I wanted to acknowledge that we are flawed, have endured a lot of hardship and heartache, and can be a safe and understanding resource when they someday face trouble in their marriages. I certainly didn’t know what to do or what the right decision was, but my biggest fear was hurting my children in the process. My therapist assuaged some of those fears when she said - if your kids know or even suspect there was an affair. Still, they see you leaning into each other and showing love toward one another, even amidst tense moments, then you are showing them love and forgiveness. And that model is even stronger if they know what has happened. After much thought, my husband and I created a narrative to share. We did this together. The narrative was entirely truthful but selective about what we included. We didn’t include specifics about an affair being part of our marriage history, but we did talk about the hurt that has happened - before, during, and after the affair, and how we have worked together to overcome it. We spent a few days writing out what we wanted to say, and once we had agreed to the general sentiment, we sat them down together and shared it. We didn’t read it verbatim but took turns talking about pain and humility and being unable to make good and loving decisions when we were focused on our individual hurts. We described in very general ways how we had felt misunderstood and hurt each other over the years. My husband took ownership of hurting me very deeply and being grateful for my forgiveness. We talked about communication, or the lack thereof, as well as sadness, depression and bitterness, and I shared for the first time that I had been going to therapy for quite a while and that we had also started couples counseling. The faces of my children revealed their surprise. I told them I didn't want to keep the therapy a secret, but for a season, I did need to keep it private as I dealt with some things. I wanted to normalize getting help so they didn’t ever have to feel like they needed to suffer in solitude like we did. In the end, our advice to them was: When things are hard, don’t stay isolated. We hadn’t sought help before because we didn’t know what to do; we felt alone and we thought no one would understand. But you don’t have to keep “hard” hidden. God put us in community for a reason. I wish we had recognized that years ago. We described what we have learned about God and ourselves in the healing process. Before sharing this, I suspect if they had their own marital troubles, they would have been unlikely to share them. I hope now that we normalize struggle, heartache, therapy, resilience, and openness so they will feel open to seeking support when needed. They didn’t have much to say that night, but they did ask a few questions over the days that followed, which allowed for a little more general conversation about therapy and relationships. We had also decided to include our son’s fiancé in the conversation, and I was initially worried she might feel uncomfortable with such an intimate conversation. However, she commented that she appreciated the openness. I hope they can learn from our mistakes, and I felt liberated by sharing this with them. We didn’t tell them there was infidelity, and we didn’t get into specifics. This was enough. Unexpectedly, having this conversation released me from my lingering resentment at feeling fake and having to keep his secret. I hadn’t realized it was still there until I could let it go. I don’t know what it would have looked like if we had tried this early in our recovery. I honestly don’t know if I would have been satisfied to leave it at that without having the full story be known so they could truly understand the depth of my pain. But I am at a place now where this was enough for me. It was truly liberating without causing relational damage. I can’t say if this approach is right for anyone else, but it was right for us. My husband’s partnership and humility have been crucial in our progress, and this narrative was a joint venture. Infidelity’s impact extends beyond the marriage to the family. So does healing.

Freedom begins in a community of “me too” people, people committed to helping you carry your burden. ~ Sheila Walsh When a person experiences a loss or tragedy, those around them often offer support differently. People say things like, “Let me know if you need anything,” or “I’m here for you.” This can be genuine and well-meaning, but to the person amid crisis or grief, they’re not especially helpful. That is passive support, meaning if the grieving person comes to me and asks for something specific, I will provide it. Active support looks like this: “I have two hours free on Tuesday evening. I’d like to bring you dinner and babysit your kids. Would that be helpful?” Both offers are genuine and well meaning. One is more helpful to a person who is overwhelmed and in crisis. Caring people often don’t know how to support a person in crisis. We don’t know what is helpful, so we extend this open-ended invitation for that person to identify their needs and then reach out and advocate to meet those needs. If you have ever been on the grief side of this equation, you know you often don’t even know what you need, and the last thing you want to do is reach out of your isolated shell of grief to ask someone for anything. In my experience, this applies to betrayal recovery as well. As a betrayed partner, there is often so much shame surrounding the discovery of infidelity that the last thing we want to do is tell someone about it and then ask for something, particularly from people who don’t understand what it feels like. This can apply within marriage relationships recovering from infidelity as well. Early on, my very well-meaning husband often said, “I’m here for you,” but I felt totally alone. He did not read books or search the internet to understand what I was experiencing or to find ideas or programs that might be helpful. Instead, he waited for me to tell him what I needed. I was drowning in shock, trauma, shame, and depression, and I had no idea what to do to move forward. In that state of being, I was not in a condition to use reasoning and thoughtfulness to research recovery tools and treatments. I was in crisis: a constant state of hypervigilance and distress, and my critical thinking skills were mostly offline. My brain was trying so desperately to stay afloat amidst all the chaos that it mostly just tried to minimize the reality of the infidelity to survive. This was not a conscious decision. I did not realize how damaging and skewed this thinking was. I wasn’t seeking or expecting much of anything from my husband. I figured that I was not enough since he had wanted someone else. Therefore, I must be the problem. I saw this as my issue to solve, and I was alone. When I couldn’t just “get over it,” I again saw myself as the problem. Being “stuck” was just another indicator of my deficiency as a person, which is why he wanted someone else in the first place…and the twisted merry-go-round continued from there. (This was obviously all very unhealthy thinking, but that was the reality of my experience for quite a while.) With all that in mind, I was uncomfortable asking him to do anything for me. I felt ashamed and rejected, so I did not have any confidence that my needs mattered to him. His actions had shown me I was dispensable. Why would I say, “I need…” and assume he would care? I knew my repentant husband genuinely meant well, but I didn’t find it helpful. I didn’t know what I needed when we first began untangling everything after the betrayal. He didn’t either, but his approach was to encourage me to not think about it and move forward. I understand why this made sense to him then, but ignoring does not equal healing, so this was neither helpful nor possible. I share this not to point fingers but to hopefully help someone else learn from our mistakes. Over time, I sporadically tried therapy and various programs, and while my husband said he supported whatever I needed, he was sometimes clearly uncomfortable with it. He did not understand the purpose and sometimes believed my efforts were making it worse. And at times, it did make it worse. Sometimes, even good recovery work can cause temporary instability, but I also tried some pretty unhelpful and really terrible programs, so it was probably a little of both. I also did not know what I was doing or what I needed, so I tried a lot of things; some were good, and others were not. It was like throwing spaghetti at the wall and waiting to see what would stick. There is no rule book for this stuff, so sometimes you have to try something and see if it helps before you know whether to continue it or bail and try something else. My husband was always very genuine about wanting to be there for me; over time, he figured out how to do that. He went from being available to listen (though the conversation was tough for me to initiate) to directly asking me if I wanted to talk, especially when he could see I was struggling. That difference is huge. One was passively waiting to see if I brought anything up, and the other was actively asking if there was something I wanted to discuss, even knowing it might be unpleasant. It was a huge relief to me, and while I didn’t always choose to talk at that moment, knowing that he really meant it was very comforting. When we avoid difficult conversations, we trade short-term discomfort for long-term dysfunction. ~ Peter Bromberg Part of the exasperation in healing from betrayal is trying to get the unfaithful partner to understand the impact. The whole experience made me feel crazy, and it was hard to express everything I felt. Before I could see that he really grasped the depth of how his affair had impacted me, I felt I needed to justify my pain and triggers over and over again and somehow prove they were legitimate. Rick Reynolds captures this well by explaining, “Until the betrayed spouse believes their unfaithful spouse "gets it," they experience an internal pressure to keep talking about it until their mate understands. Many unfaithful spouses interpret this behavior to be a tactic to shame them, torture them, or manipulate them. The betrayed spouse actually has the opposite intent: they continue to ask questions in an attempt to heal their wounds and to actually reconnect again. If the unfaithful spouse will accept responsibility for their self-centeredness and dysfunction early on, their spouse will feel safer earlier and begin to grieve.” I definitely saw this play out, and once my husband started to actively support me in the ways I have described, I could see that he “got it.” My compulsion to “prove” my pain began to noticeably subside, which allowed us to have more productive and healing conversations. He began to ask, “How are you?” with genuine curiosity and without defensiveness toward my answer. This was a wonderful way to actively provide support, especially if my response was “not great,” which it often was. Over time, he broadened the scope of his active support. If we passed through locations he knew were triggering, he would take my hand and say, “I know, I’m sorry.” It was validating and comforting, making me feel seen and understood. We often didn’t need to discuss it further in those moments because he demonstrated that he knew and cared about what was impacting me. After his affair was revealed, I had become hypervigilant and very guarded, but the more he provided active support, the more relaxed I became. Slowly, it started to feel more like we were on the same team, dealing with this thing together, rather than me feeling like I was completely alone. But it took a long time, and a lot of patience and consistency. I know it wasn’t easy, and he took risks, knowing he would not always get a warm and fuzzy response from me. He created safety by doing these things; ultimately, it was what I needed, and over time it made a big difference in our relationship. Sometimes he would hug me, let me cry, and say, "It's okay; you can tell me anything," even if it was the same stuff he'd heard 1,000 times already. He would say, "We will get there. We will do this as many times as we need to." He held onto hope for both of us when I didn’t have any. Those things made me feel safe and seen. At first, I often didn’t tell him what was on my mind, as I had such a hard time doing it and was still very wary. But knowing he was willing to listen and cared about what I was experiencing felt very comforting and supportive, whether I shared my thoughts or not. If you are the unfaithful spouse and you really want to support your partner, be there, and be truthful - 100% truthful - every single time. Tell him or her every day how sorry you are, how much you want to be with them, and how grateful you are that they are still here. Reassure them that you want to know their thoughts and feelings, even the ugly ones, because you are in this together, and you don't want them to be alone. You should consider taking the initiative to show your support rather than waiting for your overwhelmed, betrayed partner to figure it all out. Recovery involves risk for both parties. It is not easy for a betrayed spouse to extend any measure of trust and vulnerability toward a person who willingly hurt them so deeply. Conversely, for the unfaithful partner, it is a risk to tell the truth and then be open to the full impact and consequences. But in the end, truth is the only way to have a meaningful relationship with your spouse. Real intimacy cannot be found without truth; every marriage deserves to experience that. Love is providing a safe place for loss and pain to heal. And for hope and joy to grow. ~Topher Kearby

As I first ventured into the world of betrayal recovery, I listened to several experts advise against asking too many questions and getting too many details about their spouse’s betrayal. They cautioned that the details can be damaging and cause lingering intrusive thoughts. The predominant advice is to stick to the basic information of timeframe and generic summary of events but otherwise to steer clear of anything that could be considered a question related to comparison, like physical appearance, body type, specific sexual experiences, etc. The advice was that these things don’t serve to promote healing, and it is better to keep them unknown. (A list of suggested questions to consider asking instead can be found here.) Not asking for details is very sound advice, and if that works for you, I agree that would probably be best. It made logical sense and I really tried not to want to know. But that is just not who I am. My perspective may not be the same as yours or anyone else’s, but I found myself needing to know everything. I couldn’t live with my husband having any lingering secrets with the affair partner. The years of secrets made me feel like he was protecting her or preserving something special between them. So now that the truth was out, I needed to know anything she knew. Unless you've experienced it yourself, it is hard to find the words to express the unique feeling of being an outsider in your own marriage. Initially, I tried the suggested “24-hour rule” many times. The 24-hour rule is where you consider a question that might be harmful to ask, write it down, wait 24 hours, and then see if you still feel the need to ask. I did this on a number of occasions and had a literal notebook full of all the things I wanted to know. Not once did the passage of time make any difference in my need to know the answers to those questions. I wrestled with it internally for a while, like I was a bad person or doing this wrong by still wanting to know. Eventually I realized this is who I am, and I would never rest without all of the information. My first therapist said I was a “nooks and crannies” type of person. I needed to get into the weeds to process things, including the details of the affair. If you are like me and not knowing eats you alive, then you may want to consider asking for the details. What is the downside? You have the details. They can paint full color images in your head you will never be able to “unsee”, but for me, the images were there anyway, and most of those in my imagination were worse than those he eventually shared. The mental movies I envisioned before I had the details were already embellished with music, lights, sound, and thematic elements that weren’t actually part of the real story. Still, my brain romanticized it and made connections to make sense of it, even if they weren’t true. When there are gaps in details, our brains often confabulate - using our imagination to fill in the blanks. In this case, I concluded how it must have played out since the affair seemed to be so important and carried on for so long. This led to many scenarios I assumed to be true, but in reality, they were not even close. I needed every detail, and in a few specific instances, I needed to hear them over and over again to overwrite the narrative I had long held in my head. I had a long time to sit with my version of events going unchallenged in my imagination, so they were hard to unravel. It was traumatizing, but the reality was I was already traumatized, and this process was going to be difficult no matter what those details were. Every person is unique in terms of what they need, but I also think the type of affair or betrayal may make a difference in the potential helpfulness of details. If it was a highly limerent affair, details may not prove beneficial. But if it was a more rudimentary affair it might be helpful. My husband’s affair was sexual but not particularly connective, and that is not uncommon. It was ongoing but not romantic. It was clumsy and haphazard and much less “sexy” than what I envisioned. It was still completely wrong and devastating to me, so I am not minimizing it in any way, but it wasn’t the twitterpated, steamy, romance novel scenario I assumed it to be. It was more of a series of rushed, awkward, unconnected encounters that happened to include sex. John Haney often refers to this as “masturbation with a partner”, which conveys the selfish, meaningless, unconnected, and often mechanical sex that is common in affairs. They barely knew each other in any authentic way. They were very familiar on a surface level and obviously in a rudimentary physical sense, but most of their conversation was flirtation and fluff. Nothing deep was shared. No meaningful plans were made. On the receiving end of the betrayal, I obviously assumed there was a deep, passionate, and romantic connection underlying all of this. Why else would he have an affair? So all of my “mind movies” and images were along those lines, with perfectly choreographed Hollywood-type sensual scenes running through my head. It turns out that in reality, there was little conversation, no beautiful scenery, little warmth, and no real passion. It was just hurry-up-and-get-it-done kind of stuff, like teenagers trying to get away with something before they get caught. It was not a particularly coordinated or beautiful experience. In my case, the pain caused by learning the details was less than the pain caused by my runaway imagination. It helped me to create context for what my husband’s affair was - and wasn’t. The truth and my husband’s commitment to what I needed to heal were a huge factor in our ability to grow closer through this experience. The process was challenging for him, too, but he patiently shared anything I asked, as often as I asked it. I know I could not have felt safe otherwise. It is not the right choice for everyone, and I acknowledge those details are painful, but I do think about them. But for me, they demystified so much of what I had imagined, and living with those imaginary scenarios would be much worse. I feel like the typical advice is not to ask too many questions about the details, and I felt shame in wanting to know, like there was something wrong with me or if I was being petty. The stronger I got in this process, the more I understood that we are all unique and that there is no “right” way to do it. Sometimes, seeking more and more information gives the false perception that it will all eventually make sense, but in reality most of us will never fully understand the betrayal. Part of the healing process is learning to accept that fact, but that is not easy and comes much later than we would like. Not every betrayed spouse needs or wants to know everything, but some do. While it was painful, it was the right choice for me. I would only caution you to consider whether you are ready to hear the answer before you ask a question. You can always wait and ask at a later time - there is no expiration date on questions. The betrayed spouse must be given the control over how much and when they need to know. Even if a betrayed spouse doesn’t want all the details, they need to know that if they want to know, they can, and that the unfaithful spouse would be willing to share anything the betrayed spouse felt was necessary for their own sanity and potential healing. I wanted to know what I was forgiving and never look back and wonder about what I didn’t know. I don’t regret my decision, and I appreciate my husband’s willingness to share everything with me and then sit with me while I was in the pain it caused. It showed me he prioritized me over his secrets which was an important piece of our recovery.