Did I become intolerant of mistakes?
Is it possible I have developed an intolerance for my wife to make mistakes? It recently occurred to me that I obviously do expect her to not forget simple things like garbage day chores, etc. because I find when she does drop the ball, I trigger that this also happened during the affair: things I had come to depend on, and even expect, after years of her doing them.
Can the hurt go so deep that the BS becomes inflexible? And then how flexible should we be willing to be, in light of the fact that most of us gave our spouses the benefit of the doubt in spite of red flags?
I’m at six years out, and just now realizing that all the encouragement to raise the bar on our expectations of our spouse and our marriage — or at least insist it remain where it was before the affair — may have led me to become inflexible. I make mistakes. I should expect my wife to as well.
Maybe it is because she isn’t always very prompt to acknowledge and say she is sorry when she has missed something. I don’t know anymore. I just know I am tired, and I’d love some peace.
14 comments posted: Tuesday, September 28th, 2021
“I wish you just enough” ... pain???
Seven years ago my wife and I decided we’d write our own vows for our wedding ceremony. At the time it seemed the traditional vows seemed unnecessary, as we had already experienced 15 years of ups and downs, sickness and health, etc and etc. Our ceremony only included my daughter, son-in-law and our two grandchildren, the officiant, and a beautiful patch of old-growth forest just outside Mt. Rainier National Park. Even as we exchanged what we had written I recall loving the feeling that the moss and ferns and the ancient trees overhead were absorbing our words —sanctifying them. It was magical.
I wrote my vows focusing on my wife’s hands, which I fell in love with from the moment she handed me a pool cue and asked if I wanted to play a game. I’d watched those hand lovingly pet dogs and cats, open doors for strangers, repair plumbing, and care for me when emergency surgery required I live with an ileostomy for a year.
She began her vows with “I can’t promise you everything, but I can promise that I will do everything humanly possible to keep you safe and guard your heart.” I was in tears at this point, because isn’t that everything any of us has wanted from our spouse, from our marriage relationship? I felt so cherished, so safe ...
“I can’t promise you everything, but I can promise every day to wish you enough ...” which she finished off with the poem “Enough” which goes like this:
“I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more..
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.
I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting…
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good- bye.” And she added “And lastly, I wish you enough love to fill your heart now and forever. They say it takes a minute to find that special person. Actually it took 39 years. And now that I have it will take a lifetime to love all that you are.”
A year and four months later those words came back with a vengeance, ringing in my ears with evil laughter, feeling like prophecy gone wrong. It felt almost as if I had been set up for the feelings of being unappreciated, taken for granted, someone worthy of only enough of everything to have cover for a six month betrayal that she knew would devastate me should I find out. “Enough pain?” I was as already a chronic pain patient when we got married. “Enough loss?” Are you kidding? I’d lost my health, my hobbies, my ability to enjoy life without the accompaniment of physical pain, as well as the emotional loss and mourning that chronic illness inflicts. “Just enough?” Really ... when you risked everything to spend your energy, time, and lots of money, on an ex who was not worthy of even a passing thought?”
I am not a greedy person. I am happiest in the little things. But it felt like my wife had either been careless in her choice of vows, or felt I didn’t appreciate what I had. On d-day those vows rang in my head as being cruelly deflective. Her “just enough” felt more like “let me slack off when things get difficult.” What the heck —it will just make me stronger, more appreciative? Right???
I know she gave those vows a lot of thought. We both worked with our wonderful officiant while writing them. Maybe others have used the poem “Just Enough” successfully in their vows. But I thought them strange on our wedding day (except for the opening lines) and today I hate them. They represent the endless pain and loss that followed d-day. They are a reminder she did not give them a second though when — just ten months after speaking them to me under that ancient canopy of mossy tress, in the company of my most beloved — she began an enthusiastic revival of an old and toxic relationship with her ex-girlfriend.
Today we are doing better. There is some healing. She is cognizant that she failed to keep her promises. But I’m torn between the ceremony we waited years to have, until our state recognized it legally — and tossing these painful vows for new ones. But I can’t ever erase these words from my memory, can I? They, and the affair that so closely followed, are indelibly etched in my mind and in my heart.
Is there anyone else who has dealt with this? How do I erase this added pain, inflicted by words that were supposed to make me feel loved and safe and secure? I hate the vows she said that day because apparently they were not as important to her as she said they were. I don’t know how to escape this pain.
6 comments posted: Tuesday, July 6th, 2021
Friends in common with AP
A friendship my FWW and I have had with a couple she and her ex/AP were friends with when they were together just got weird. I was enthusiastic about this friendship because I have a lot in common with one of them (chronic health issues) AND because they had distanced themselves from my wife’s ex because they did not care for the games she played while they were in the same social circles, I felt safe. The fact that they agreed that the AP was an attention whore who was poisonous gave me comfort that our friendship was safe from intrusion. For years we were on each other’s Christmas card lists and kept in touch online(they moved shortly after I met them.) More recently our communication over Facebook has increased. We even FaceTime’d a nice reunion over the holidays with them.
Obviously AP noticed. After two decades of being on their out-list (except for birthday greetings), she has resurfaced. Not only that, but out of the blue she called D. one day, leaving a message that D. described as nervous-sounding. D. said she let it go to e-mail, but would let me know when she did call her back out of courtesy. It wasn’t long before D. told me that they talked, patched things over, and she told me, “I hope that this does not affect our friendship.” At that point I was willing to not let it get to me, as I valued the chats I shared with D. about coping with pain and symptoms we share. We have a lot in common.
But then this week it became more obvious that AP and D. have gotten more chummy than ever when AP sent her flowers to help her feel better (I wasn’t even aware she had been flaring that much!) I tried to let it not bother me, even though they are now all “sweetness” acting like besties. Ugh. Just the kind of drama I hate! But still, I was going to just chill and let it fade, but then this happened.
My wife seemed a bit upset a couple mornings ago when she shared that D.’s wife, J., had texted her the photo of the flowers that had been posted to their Facebook page. No message or explanation, just the photo. I have to say I felt relief (a sign of progress on my wife’s part) when she said “It almost looks like the ex is trying to reach out to me through them and I’m going to stop that right now.”. She was actually miffed by the text and wrote back “I have no interest in anything to do with my ex, and if this is an attempt by her to use you to contact me, stop. My wife felt she had a safe place with D. to share about my affair with my ex..” I was pleased that she was so definitive and firm. It led to a discussion between us, some tears, and some of the first apologies without prompting since d-day over five years ago.
My wife has not received a response from J., and D. is acting like nothing happened. I’m not going to ask. Like I said to my wife, I don’t know what it is about her ex that people just forgive and forget her past actions so easily. I mean, my wife had to ignore a lot of pain and trauma to call her that fateful day when she opened the door to the affair. It led to a lot of my insecurity since then ... that I was starting to heal and overcome.
I will miss this friendship I had fostered with D. It did feel safe. And I am sad that it seems as long as the AP is alive she will pop up unexpectedly, like a pimple, to stir things up. It seems I am forever giving up things to accommodate that damn affair.
12 comments posted: Saturday, February 6th, 2021
Five years? It’s gonna take more ...
Next Sunday (10/04) is the five year antiversary of d-day.
I thought, when I first heard that it takes 3-5 years, that was a long time. Then year by year with little progress made me question everything. It took her three years to begin to understand how much damage she did.
I’m thinking we are actually still several years out from me feeling like I am healing. I still have a hard time with some major events, some triggers, and her silence. If she would just once in a while tell me she is sorry she did it, broke our vows, treated me like the bad guy, gave so much of that six months to her ex, it would help. I hear “I’m sorry” all the time for things that happen to me that she didn’t cause. Just if she could take responsibility and tell me she is sorry for this without prompting. I spent years telling her what I need. I still don’t get it. And I know it’s her shame, guilt and shame, that is preventing it.
Everyone says “Let it go.” But what I can’t let go is what I need. She is capable. At least I think she is. But it seems she is willing to give me anything and everything but that: flowers, jewelry, gifts, etc., but not reassurance that she is sorry for her six months of choosing to lie and cheat. What I really need is what is hardest for her: heartfelt sorrow for choosing to do the one thing she promised to protect and guard me from.
23 comments posted: Sunday, September 27th, 2020