Oh, I posted the below on the 'is your marriage better now" thread, thinking that was the positive reconciliation thread DS referred to, so here reposting (although maybe slightly out of context):
DH likes himself now, that has been a fundamental shift. Otherwise, whilst we started rebuilding from the foundations, the rebuild was to the previous model, only adapting to allow for a few more windows, and some sacred, adult only private space, only tinkering around the edges therefore because it is fundamentally a very strong, warm and loving house, full of laughter.
And I posted the below on my antiversary in December, which I hope is read as positive, which was its intention:
Three years ago on this day of December, my husband had been so down and unusually depressed that despite having much crap in my life (also having held the reins of the household alone during his many absences that autumn), I offered to do the huge work of his tax return to help him with his stress.
He was so abashed by my evident love, care and concern he blurted out about the five month affair he had ended two weeks previously.
I am - ahem - professionally quite calm in a crisis. I told him I abhorred his need to pass the burden of his guilt and the responsibility of his actions and resulting mess to me and just before Happy Family Christmas. Asked her name, was horrified that I knew her professionally, that I had even published her work, and remembered she was young, single, and very attractive.
I didn’t ask for any details, refused all further conversation, and spent all night researching the male menopause on the internet. Went to work the next day and wrote a cracking grant application. Was shocked and amazed by the burning pain in my heart. Head clear, body stupified. Sent him an email asking for details of all other women. Got one name, dates were dubious, I corrected that fact by email.
Spent the rest of the week out in the evenings. Asked for all passwords at the end of the week. His parents arrived for Christmas. In between pretending to eat, I spent late nights on his email and discovered a teenage Lothario’s correspondences conducted in bored moments at work. Decided to respond to it as a wake-up call to get myself higher up my list.
Started taking late night walks in total darkness in the countryside to train myself to not be afraid of the unknown and to trust and rely on my senses. One night found myself at the sea, and thought the water looked very inviting and wanted to walk out and be swallowed by its embrace. It was seductive, so seductive…. but the image was ruptured by Edie rising to the surface, irrepressible, enjoying breath and life, she is anyway an incredibly good swimmer. And I remembered my children. I sat for a long time looking at the sea, and did some deep breathing to tap deep into my grief, and finally the tears, body-wrenching sobs, came. For hours. Extraordinary entity, the body.
Went to work overseas, still couldn’t sleep or eat a thing, first panic attack and ended up in hospital. Came home eventually and spent the next rollercoaster year piecing together, through sleuthing, disclosure, TT, and much discussion the new narrative of my twenty-four years with WH. Always swimming against waves and underwater currents, trying to recognise which period of my life they came from, from childhood, other, or future. Began carrying a water pistol as a way of dealing with triggers, so many, assailed from all sides, constant. It was, has been, quite a swim, and despite my great fear of drowning, I needed to look on it as an adventure.
But you know, my narratives have not in fact changed. Everything had been genuine and authentic. My perceptions of WH as a whole, good person had always been accurate. I had even known the puer eternus in H really well, but now I was only interested in a whole man not puer eternus. That bit was up to him. If he wanted to be that man. My perceptions of myself had been accurate too.
And now I really do trust myself.