Hi. This is my first time posting a new topic. My husband has been on SI since DDay and he first shared SI with me a few months ago. So he knows I’m here. I’ve been lurking for a long time and registered recently. My affair was two and a half years ago and we’ve been in R since then. This is a little scary for me but I think I feel comfortable leaving the stop sign off. I hope I’m not making a mistake.
I didn’t want to sidetrack the other thread about FOO issues. I guess I just want to share a little bit about me and some of what I’ve learned in therapy.
I think it’s how you look at the question of FOO issues. If, as a WS, we use FOO issues as an excuse or as something to blame our actions on, then we are being dishonest and aren’t really digging very deep, IMO. For me, FOO issues were a contributing factor in why I had my affair. It wasn’t because I didn’t know right from wrong. But understanding how it affects us is why therapy is so important because we need to identify those causes so we can fight them and become healthier and a safe partner.
I was emotionally abused by my mother growing up. I was always horrible, nothing I did was good or of value. From small things to big things. “You’re a slob.” “You’re ugly.” “Look at you, what a disappointment.” If I got an A on a paper, “Who’d you copy from?” I didn’t make my bed one morning and my mother dumped the kitchen garbage on it since if I wasn’t going to be clean and make my bed then I should sleep with the garbage. One time I left a few sweatshirts on the floor in my room. I came home from school to find my entire wardrobe on the front lawn. She threw all my clothes out the window because if wasn’t going to treat my things with respect then I obviously don’t value them and I don’t deserve them. The first time I got my period was the summer I was 12. It’s like it was yesterday. It was during the day and I was at a family barbecue and I was wearing a cute yellow top with a white flare skirt with yellow flowers on it. I didn’t know what was going on when it happened but you can imagine the state of my skirt. I was so mortified! Everyone knew what happened except me and I was crying and so embarrassed and scared at the same time and all she did was yell at me for ruining that skirt. She dragged me into the house where she made me get undressed in front of her so she could wash the blood off. I remember standing there naked and crying while she used a washcloth on me while she was yelling at me for making such a mess and ruining the family barbecue. Then she got me a pad and borrowed underwear and jeans from my cousin who was a boy and made me go back outside in his jeans with everyone knowing what happened. She flirted with my boyfriends (yes, with my husband too at the beginning), told me I’d amount to nothing. “Why would anyone want to be with you?” Or, “I give your marriage 2 weeks before he divorces you.” were common. This went on nearly every day from when I was a little girl until the day I got married. Then it shifted to how horrible I was at housekeeping or parenting. I can’t type all of it but it was a constant drumbeat of messaging telling me I was worthless and that nobody in their right mind would love me.
My way of dealing with this was to be as good as I could be. If only I made my bed and cleaned my room. If only I got straight A’s in school, if only I dressed perfectly and always brushed my hair and applied my makeup just so and did everything perfectly, then maybe I’d be someone of value.
And this influenced how I behaved with my husband and children. I’d be the perfect wife and perfect mother and perfect neighbor, and the compliments and thank you’s I got in return were my validation that I was a worthwhile human being. That I deserved to be loved. I don’t know how to explain it but one example my therapist used was that I have a different operating system than other people. My default setting is that I’m worthless. Nothing I do is good. Anything that goes wrong is a confirmation of that fact. If the house wasn’t immaculate or I burnt dinner then of course I’m horrible. And I needed to reprogram that setting. And the way to do that was with a barrage of positive messages from anyone and everyone. I volunteered at 3 different charities. Through my actions I basically was shouting that I’m somebody and I’m good and kind and please love me.
My husband loved me and praised me and told me I was beautiful and sexy and kind and he held me and made love to me and made me feel that I was a real person. A good person. Someone worthwhile and deserving of love. We had 5 children partly because I felt worthwhile having babies. Look what I did! Look at this beautiful baby! I can’t be all that horrible if I could give birth to such beautiful babies. And nurture them and love them and kiss them and take care of them. And my children loved me back. And they turned out so great they were living proof that not everything I touch turns to shit.
And then my oldest daughter got engaged and I miscarried our twins which of course I blamed myself for and my husband was busy at work and wasn’t involved in the wedding and my daughter was leaving me. Not beginning a beautiful new life with our son in law, but to me she was leaving me because who would want to be around me? She was leaving the first chance she got and I was positive my other babies would do the same. And along came my AP. He was a guy I volunteered with at a charity in Manhattan. We used to visit children’s hospitals together. He wasn’t more attractive or better looking. He was wealthy, but it’s not like my husband didn’t do very well either. Really he wasn’t anything special. But he talked to me. I complained a lot about my husband and the wedding and my daughter getting married and he validated me. He subtly put my husband down and told me how wonderful I was and how special I was. Of course it was all bullshit in hindsight but at the time I soaked it up like it was gold. Coffee and lunches became long walks. And he told my how beautiful I was and how kind and giving and how much he appreciated me for me and so on. And in my mind my husband didn’t think I was beautiful or sexy or special because I was an over 40 stay at home mom. How could I be?
But my AP could and I believed him because I wanted that so badly. To keep hearing it. So after some time I became a whore for him. I traded sex for compliments and validation. I gave him whatever he wanted because when I did he’d keep telling me how beautiful I was and how sexy I was and how special I was. I’m between a size 2 or 4 and in good shape, but in my mind I was fat, with a flabby butt and stretch marks. My husband always told me how much he loved my curves and my stretch marks because of what they represented but of course that didn’t matter. He’s my husband. He’s supposed to say that. He doesn’t mean it. How could he? But I believed my AP. I don’t want to be graphic or crude but I’d make him beg and asked him if he liked things I was doing or told him to tell me how much he loved me and my body. It sounds so pathetic and it was but I created a fantasy world where I loved him and he loved me. Someone loved me! I was valuable and cared for and paid attention to! I was like someone dying of thirst in the desert and he had the only water around.
This continued until I was caught by my brother in law. I guess that’s when my husband came here to SI for help. You can look him up for his story.
I guess besides sharing (we thought it would be healthy for me to do that) I wanted to explain why knowing and understanding your FOO issues are so important. They’re not to be used as an excuse or a cop out and they’re not an absolution of blame or somehow a cloud that prevented us from knowing right from wrong. I knew what I was doing was wrong. I knew I was betraying my husband. I just didn’t care enough. While I should’ve talked to my husband about my feelings and what I was going through, I didn’t. And I craved what my AP was giving me. Not the sex, but how he made me feel. The sex was my currency to get those feelings. I never dealt with my issues before so I didn’t know how to deal with them in any kind of healthy way. I didn’t know what to look out for. I didn’t know how to cope when I wasn’t getting my pellets of validation from the people in my life. Now I do. I have tools and mechanisms. I’m not healed or cured, but I know what I’m facing and I’ve learned ways to deal with it. And my husband has to. He knows what I deal with and what to look out for and how to help. Therapy brought that about. Exploring and understanding my FOO issues was so important for me to help me become the person I need to be for me, my husband and my children.
I’m sorry this was so long or if I shared too much. Thank you for listening.