Any ordinary life contains regrets, but betrayal generates a whole new level. I'm sure most of us could easily rattle off a lengthy list, but today I'm focusing on a specific set of regrets created by the aftermath of infidelity.

Life does not stop spinning for infidelity, and I think an additional cruelty is the regrets created in the life that continued to play out while trying to wrap our heads around the betrayal. I know for me, I have many regrets regarding the quality and depth of parenting and emotional availability I could offer my kids, friends, family, and even my husband.

I told my first counselor how guilty I felt for not having the energy or mental focus to attend to my kids like I normally would, and she compared the experience to someone with cancer. She asked me, “Would you judge someone with cancer who didn't have enough energy to parent her kids the way she wanted to?” And of course I would not. She explained that my mind and body were in a state of emergency, not all that different from the cancer patient. But I was unable to offer myself the same grace, piling the guilt on top of the pain I was already experiencing and feeling like a complete failure as a wife, mother and person.

It would be nice, if after the revelation of infidelity in our marriage, we could press pause on life for a while, and devote ourselves to survival. As though the world would say, “Just take the time you need, and when you're ready to resume life, just press “play.” Until then you won't miss anything or screw anything up.”

But unfortunately, that's not how it works. Life goes on in the midst of betrayal and recovery. It doesn’t stop for you to heal. Kids need you. Bills have to be paid. The laundry needs to be done. The lawn needs to be mowed. Birthdays and holidays will still rear their painful heads on the calendar, with no consideration of your feelings.

And while all that is happening, children grow up. Jobs change. Opportunities are lost. We age. People die. Pandemics happen. And so on.

With socially acceptable losses like natural disaster or death, grief is met with understanding and space to mourn. Help is offered, funerals are held, time for grieving is allotted, time off from work is normal and expected. Friends gather and offer love and understanding, and maybe even bring chocolate. But betrayal is often dealt with in secret and in isolation, as has been the case for me. Hiding in plain sight while the rest of the world keeps spinning; no one knowing the silent despair hidden behind the facade.

Six months went by, then a year, maybe two, or even more. Looking back, I see those missed opportunities. Missed connections. The school events where I was nothing more than a shell, sitting on bleachers or in the auditorium seats, and using every molecule of energy in my body just to stop myself from dissolving into a puddle of tears. I didn't see his big win, or really hear his solo. I didn't feel the energy of the crowd. I don't remember the conversation on the ride home as he explained the behind the scenes of it all. I didn't ask many questions. I didn't suggest we go out for ice cream. I just wanted to go to bed. Did he notice? I don't know, but I did. And now that season is gone, and several others like it, and I missed it. I regret not being there. I was physically present, but my mind was a million miles away. I was so overwhelmed, I could not focus on anything in front of me. I could only pretend, with a fake smile plastered on my face. In my darkest moments, I wanted to die to escape the pain. It's all I could think about. And now I feel so guilty for missing those moments, and have so much regret. What kind of mother have I been? What else did they need from me that I didn't have the capacity to give? Have I damaged them? Made them feel unloved or unappreciated? Will I ever be able to make it up to them now that they are moving into adulthood? Is it too late?

Because there was such a long gap in between the affair and the disclosure, I feel like I failed my kids when they were little, and then again as young adults. It feels like I didn’t do any of it right, and that I deeply regret. There are no do-overs. I missed the joy of being mentally and emotionally present with my kids, and now will never have the chance to do it again. I regret losing my old adventurous self. The mom they saw was not the person I used to be. During the affair, I was wrapped up in my fear and anxiety of what was happening to my life. I felt powerless to stop what was going on right in front of me. I can easily play Monday morning quarterback now, to see how I could have handled things differently, but I was so lost, confused, and scared that I felt helpless as I watched my life spiral out of control.

Our family experienced meaningful and memorable events after D-Day, but some I barely remember as I was not fully present. And now some of those opportunities are lost and will never happen again. Kids have moved out, and those special times we were a family all under one roof will never happen again. And I missed the final moments of that. I know I have lost connections with other people, some of which I will probably never get back. A longtime friend said recently they thought they had offended me as I essentially ghosted them for a few years. They have no idea what we have been through, and only saw the lack of effort on my part in our relationship.

It isn't fair that the aftermath of infidelity happens on top of the life that we had planned on living. That life gets derailed for a time, and that time can vary widely from person to person. But life doesn't stop for trauma or illness or death. It just keeps spinning, and eventually we catch up. But when we do, it can be a real gut punch to look back and see what we missed. But as my first therapist told me, it isn't fair, and it really isn't any more in our control than the person fighting cancer.

I have many regrets, but I can't change that now. Now that I am in a better place, all I can do is try not to miss any more moments, forgive myself for what was beyond my control, and love the people in my life to the best of my ability. So if you have these regrets too, don't beat yourself up. You are only human and can only manage so much at one time. I tell this to myself as well, and as I heal, I am arriving at a more positive perspective on this. I did the best I could, and so did you.