Why Do I Blog, Anyway? I was having a conversation with my Affair Recovery editor recently, and we talked about the motivation behind my decision to blog about infidelity. It can be emotionally heavy, and logistically difficult amidst work, home, and family responsibilities, particularly as I continue to devote time and energy to therapy and recovery work. So what made me want to do this? Infidelity creates an isolation like nothing else. In the many years during and after my husband's affair he would not admit to anything. Just flat out denial of my legitimate suspicions, like I was just crazy for asking. I lived in limbo, knowing I did not have the truth, but also not having any foreseeable way to obtain it without his cooperation, which he was very unwilling to provide. I never looked for outside help. I never told anyone. I only asked him again and again, and he continually denied it. In turn, I tried to deny it to myself. I did not allow for any space to consider that there even was “help” for this. He had done whatever he had done with his affair partner, refused to tell me the truth about exactly what that entailed, and now this was just my life. His decisions made me feel as though I was imprisoned in this reality he had created, and I saw no way to change that. Years later, after my husband finally confessed, I started searching for help. As I've mentioned before, finding the right help while simultaneously being overwhelmed by trauma and confusion is next to impossible. I sought resources to help me understand infidelity and what I was experiencing, and most importantly, I sought hope. I felt so hopeless, so I searched intently for reassurance that there was any hope for real recovery, where I might feel like life would be worth living again someday, because it definitely did not feel that way at that time. I found I often couldn't relate to the blogs and testimonies I read. It typically felt like there were two options available. The first was from hurting people who just wanted to talk about how terrible cheaters are, which was not especially helpful or illuminating to me. The second was from the perspective of those who classified themselves as “healed” and spoke of their victory over betrayal, while seemingly glossing over the ugliness that they endured, and carefully omitting the reality of post-betrayal life. While option #2 sounded better, it seemed to portray a life “restored” and whole, with no remnants of sadness or loss, which I couldn't even wrap my head around, much less believe was real. It sounded like a sanitized version that left out the “real” in an effort to gain followers or sell a program. There was no mention of lingering sadness or reminders. There was no room for ongoing resentment and feelings of loss and disappointment. Could those people really exist? Sure, I guess. I just couldn't relate to it, so it offered me no real hope. I did not ever see myself fitting into that category, so it left me feeling more hopeless, like I was doing it all wrong or just didn't have what it took to reach the healing they described. What I needed was to know what I was feeling was normal. I wanted to know I wasn't alone. I wanted to know it was ok to hate everything right now, but that there was still hope to feel differently at some point. I wanted someone to just be real with me. After having been deceived about so much and for so long, I was unwilling and unable to ignore my skepticism and viewed these resources with great suspicion. As I read accounts from people who had tried this or that, and reported success, it just made me feel worse. I tried all of those things and the needle didn't move for me. Most talked about their amazing groups of friends or people from church. Mentor couples and a support network. I didn't have any of that. I was alone, and no one knew what had happened. My devastation was hidden from everyone in my life. So the end result was that I felt more like a failure and less hopeful that I could ever achieve any of the peace they were describing. I assumed the problem was me. It was just too far of a leap to get from where I was to where they said they were. I really wanted to hear from someone who was in the messy middle, taking the baby steps, clawing their way inch by inch. So that is the place from which I write. Maybe someday I will be one of those people, telling you how I have made it to the other side. But for now, I share my journey of the real and raw places in between, to offer validation and hope for others that are like me and are still here in the valley. So I write from the place I wish I had available to me when I first started down this path. I want to offer a balance of reality and hope, but mostly I want to offer validation and community. I know my experience may not necessarily mirror yours, as our journeys are all unique, but if I have made one person feel less alone, it is worth the effort. If, through my writings, I can put words to another person's confusing feelings, and help them to feel seen and understood, I am truly grateful. So I thank you for being here to read this. I am hopeful that you find some solace in being part of this community and joining me from time to time on my own journey. I wish you strength, peace, and hope. Behind every strong person there is a story that gave them no choice. ~ author unknown
