Littlepuppet, interesting theory and one that I think is worth exploring. However, I would respectfully challenge the premise that the severity of an affair has an inverse relationship with the duration of limbo. My own experience would suggest that the relatinship is considerably more complicated, and in some circumstances, the exact opposite may be true.
For context, my wife had two long-term affairs (1st 2 years long with a man 40 years her senior, 2nd 1 year long), approximately fourteen years apart. The first began before we were married and continued into our marriage, she even brought him to our wedding to "share HER special day". The second lasted approximately a year, nearly two decades into our relationship. Both involved emotional and physical infidelity, extensive deception, and a level of manipulation that fundamentally altered my understanding of my own life. The disclosures came in stages, with additional truths emerging over the following year. I have experienced what I would consider an exceptionally severe betrayal, if not one of the worst I have found, yet here I am more than a year after D-Day, still navigating aspects of limbo.
What I find particularly interesting about your theory is the suggestion that a more severe betrayal might make the decision easier. Intellectually, I can understand that reasoning. The more egregious the betrayal, the less ambiguity there should be about whether the relationship is acceptable. But I think this overlooks something fundamental about betrayal trauma.
The severity of the betrayal does not necessarily diminish the attachment to the person who committed it. Sometimes it makes the psychological conflict exponentially more difficult to resolve.
For me, the difficulty has never been determining whether what happened was sufficiently terrible to justify leaving. That question was answered a long time ago. The difficulty has been reconciling nearly twenty years of love, memories, commitment, children, and shared identity with the realization that much of what I believed about my marriage was fundamentally untrue.
I didn't simply discover that my wife had cheated. I discovered that the foundation upon which I had built my understanding of our relationship was compromised before we even exchanged our wedding vows. That is not something you simply process, categorize, and move on from because the severity makes the decision obvious. It forces you to reevaluate your past while simultaneously trying to determine your future.
I think The1stWife makes an important point about the subjective nature of betrayal. An emotional affair can be equally devastating to someone whose understanding of intimacy places enormous importance on emotional exclusivity. Similarly, a brief physical encounter can completely destroy another person's sense of safety. The acts themselves are only part of the equation. The meaning attached to those acts by the betrayed spouse matters enormously.
I also think hikingout identifies several of the variables that make this difficult to quantify, particularly the betrayed spouse's values, the history of the marriage, the presence of children, and the wayward spouse's response after discovery. Pogre's experience illustrates something equally important: a relatively clear decision about reconciliation can happen early, even when the betrayal itself was devastating. But that decision does not mean the trauma has been resolved.
And BackfromtheStorm raises an interesting point about cognitive dissonance. I would take it one step further, though. Sometimes the cognitive dissonance isn't about whether the betrayal was bad enough to leave. Sometimes it comes from knowing beyond any reasonable doubt how unacceptable the betrayal was, while simultaneously recognizing that you still love the person responsible for it.
You can know someone has destroyed your trust, recognize the enormity of their choices, understand that you owe them absolutely nothing, and still grieve the possibility of walking away from someone you genuinely loved. Those realities are not mutually exclusive.
Something I have come to appreciate over this past year is that limbo is not necessarily an indication of indecision, weakness, codependency, or an inability to recognize the severity of what happened. Sometimes it is the uncomfortable space between understanding what has been destroyed and determining whether anything worth preserving can realistically be rebuilt.
I also think we need to distinguish between the duration of limbo and the duration of trauma. Someone can file for divorce the morning after D-Day and spend years recovering. Another person can spend two years evaluating reconciliation and eventually arrive at a healthy, informed decision. Neither timeline tells us much about the severity of the original betrayal.
I know I can be excessively analytical. My own life experiences have taught me to dissect situations, question assumptions, and search for understanding before making consequential decisions. That approach has advantages, but I recognize it can also keep me examining questions long after other people might have reached their conclusions.
Ultimately, I don't believe the duration of limbo is proportional to how mild or severe the affair was. I suspect it has far more to do with the collision between attachment, personal values, the destruction of trust, the availability of truth, and whether the betrayed spouse can envision a future that remains consistent with who they are.
My limbo has never been about not knowing how badly I was betrayed. It has been about knowing exactly how badly I was betrayed, and understanding that neither staying nor leaving can give me back the life I thought I had.
And perhaps that is the distinction I would make. The severity of the betrayal may influence the decision, but it does not necessarily determine how long it takes someone to make peace with that decision.
EDIT to add: There is another variable I think deserves consideration: what happens after D-Day. When the truth is delivered in installments, when significant details continue emerging months later, and when the actions of the wayward spouse create further uncertainty, are we really measuring the duration of limbo following the original betrayal? Or are we measuring the cumulative effects of repeated injuries? I think there is an important distinction between someone struggling to make a decision with all the facts available and someone trying to make that same decision while the reality they are evaluating continues to change beneath their feet.
[This message edited by Gemmy at 9:20 PM, Wednesday, October 28th]