I don�t know if any members of my �class� stop by here any more. In many ways it feels like a long time ago, in other ways not so long ago, but certainly not �yesterday.�
I came here to FB in June or July of 2002. My husband�s affair started April 1. I discovered it May 18, the night of my daughter�s prom. It was that fact, the wanting to make sure she had happy memories of that night that I didn�t leave and I didn�t kick him out.
But inside I was dying. I was a mess. I knew something was up for those 6 weeks because he was acting differently, including buying new underwear � the kind he had said, here-to-fore, he didn�t like because it felt too tight. But now suddenly there were okay. And I noticed they did make his package look bigger.
I discovered the proof through an open window on the computer we were sharing (because it had the graphics software I needed) . He had a fake email account, and even though his paramour has used a fake name also, I knew who she was. I had even thought of her as a friend.
For the first 6 to 10 months after d-day I was here at MB constantly. My world was a turbulent ocean and MB my life line. We went to MC while we worked through his fog, and our marriage issues.
I can�t say that we don�t still have issues with each other. We do, some we may never reach consensus. But we have worked, argued, ignored, fumed, loved, enjoyed, cherished and found epiphanies that have kept us together. One of the biggest was my own.
During my two years here at MB I wrote about being raped about 10 to 12 years before, very early in our marriage. And how, while my husband was away, myself esteem and worth so tanked that I had had an affair too. I never received counseling for the rape, and we put ourselves back together after that affair and his revenge affair, and muddled through, until his affair in 2002.
A few years ago I wrote an article about that rape, putting in more detail that I had here. I also discussed what the next 10 years were like as I slowly became someone who I wasn�t, urging the reader who had either been raped or knew someone who had been raped to get counseling. I had made the mistake of not getting counseling, insisting that I didn�t need it. I was �fine.�
When I was done writing I read it over several times, and for the first time since his 2002 affair I saw how much I had changed, from the woman he married to this person he really did not know and had nothing in common with (except children) when he stepped out.
To tell you the truth, I didn�t much recognize the woman I was writing about either. Since his 2002 affair I had/have done a lot of work to get back to the person I was . . . to the person I truly am.
After reading the article for a third time - I wrote my husband an email and apologized to him for becoming that stranger.
We have had 3 children graduate from high school. (the last one is in high school)
We have traveled around the world together.
I lost one of my childhood best friends (and my cousin) to suicide
My ex-husband died
My mother-in-law passed away
My parents celebrated their 50th anniversary
In a few weeks my daughter, the one whose prom night was so important to me, will marry (no, that�s not been lost on me).
Just as I promised here so many I am giving her and my new son-in-law a copy of �His Needs, Her Needs,� �Love Busters,� and � Fighting for Your Marriage.� They are already bought and wrapped.
Another set is ready for my eldest son who is also engaged.
My husband and I aren�t perfect � and in some ways my some of wounds haven�t healed, and may never. But we have gotten back to a place where we share the same opinion from many political issues to what colors and textures/woods to redo the kitchen cabinet and counters with. That�s happened more and more often and it still surprises. Just this morning I noticed that while we both went to different nurseries to get plants, we both brought back the same thing; pink dahlias.
No discussion before hand . . . we just seem to be hitting on the same wave length � something we had when we were first together, we are now back too.
Something that stranger could never do.