Amber My husband, Larry, and I had been married for 18 years, but we had really just gone into our separate corners. I had an affair with someone I met while traveling for a part-time job. Confessing and the fallout that followed was catastrophic. We experienced flooding, yelling, marathoning, significant weight loss, lack of sleep – all symptoms from the betrayal trauma. It was Larry's curiosity for me that kept him searching for help. He found Affair Recovery and we signed up for the EMS Weekend. That weekend was the beginning. I had to go on a long journey to get to the root of why I did what I did, which included 12-step meetings, group work and more. It was a hard path but the relationships we found supported us in forging a new path forward in our marriage. I’ve now discovered that while I can’t change my past, I can choose to have a different relationship with it. There are aspects that continue to come up for healing, but I always know there is something better on the other side. Struggle: I felt light-years away from Larry before my affair. In this new relationship, there was just this jolt of something different. I know now, based on a childhood abuse incident and other things, I could not tell the difference between fear and arousal. It wasn't that I wanted to exit my marriage—I didn't—but I needed to exit my way of life. I needed to exit my mindset, my understanding of God... it just had to be different. Once it came out, he was shocked, super hurt, and confused. The fallout was intense for months following. We'd have conversations, but then there would be flooding, yelling, marathoning, not sleeping, and shaking all the time—all those trauma symptoms. Course of Action: Larry pretty much led the charge on finding help. He kept trying again and again. I started going to 12-step meetings and he took me to see the elders at the church. Over the first 10 months, he found three places. The second place said, “Hey, have you talked to Rick Reynolds at Affair Recovery?” So Larry followed up on that. We decided to sign up for EMS Weekend and by the time we left, I was able to tell Larry, “I know that something is really wrong, but I don't think it's you. And if you can hang in there, then I'm willing to find out.” And I'm telling you, he hung in there for two and a half years. I set out with a desire to get to the root. I had to ask "why?" like a five-year-old. And "why did I feel that way?" As I dug further, I learned what I'd done in the past that wasn't working and was able to practice doing it differently. In community and in group work, we could hear each other, but more than that, we could hear other people. At the weekend, another couple was sharing, and what Larry had been trying to share with me finally sank in. I could see what he was doing for our family and ways he had tried to connect with me that I'd completely missed. Without that being reflected to me in a group, I'm not sure how the glasses through which I was seeing Larry would have ever been broken.Lessons Learned: While I can't change my past, I can have a different relationship with it. That's my story. It doesn't mean that when I look back, there isn’t remorse. In fact, that increases over time. The more clarity I have about what choices I made, the level of sadness and awareness of what my choices cost other people increases. And those realizations bleed right into the level of gratitude for the bravery others had to continue a relationship with me. I learned to accept that I can't have all the information, but God has all the information. I don't need to go find another answer; I need to seek His guidance. Because of that, I've learned how to pause, sink in, and consult the voice of guidance and grace. Through all of this—the pain, the learnings, the reconciliation, the recovery—I can confidently say I wouldn't change a single day that led me to this one. Not one. Today is the best day, and tomorrow will be even better. I truly believe that. Encouragement: Two things keep me going. One is a statement: 'It's coming up for healing.' If something feels so incredibly deep and painful, like I can't breathe, something's coming up for healing, and there is something better on the other side. The worst thing I can do is run from it or stuff it down. Just face it, because I am not alone. In early recovery, it's hard 99.9% of the time. Sometimes it's one step forward and 15 steps back, but I'm still putting one foot in front of the other. It's a burst of new awareness or a new miracle you see in your life... that thing where you do something differently and you get this amazing outcome. That's what keeps me going. Don't quit before the miracle happens. Otherwise, you don't get to see the miracles.
