GM, having walked in DWG's shoes (but not as long) I think I understand where she's coming from. I relate so much because that was exactly the MAJOR problem for me in getting to recovery with my DH. I found all these astonishing love letters that my DH had written to not just one OW but both of them! Never in our married life had I received such a letter from him. After 25 years, I had chalked it up to he's just not that kind of guy, so you imagine my shock and pain when I read those words stolen from me and given to an OW. He really did love them! He'd never loved me like that in all of our years together.

Nothing my DH SAID could convince me that what I believed was not the truth. For the longest time I believed that I didn't measure up to OW(x2).

It took a long, long time for me to finally believe that my DH truly loved/loves me but it was through his consistent actions. When I would have a meltdown, eventually, he would let me rant and rave and then hold me when I finally broke down. The only words I would HEAR were, "I know you don't believe me now, but I will show you how much I love you and that you are the only person for me if you'll let me."

Eventually, his actions did prove it but I would still have these little doubts pop up from time to time. Finally, I had to learn to stop the stinkin' thinkin' because I was beginning to sabatoge our recovery completely. At that point, my DH didn't deserve my rants because he was doing everything right. Remember, I didn't have MB so I didn't know anything about EN, EPs, love banks, etc. and was flying by the seat of my pants.

You guys are EARLY, EARLY into your recovery, even if it seems like this has been going on forever. You WILL get there. Remain steadfast, true and a ROCK for DWG. She hasn't had that from you in a very long time. It takes time and consistency from you. Lots and lots of time and consistency.

(((DWG and GM)))


Widowed 11/10/12 after 35 years of marriage
*********************
In a sense now, I am homeless. For the home, the place of refuge, solitude, love-where my husband lived-no longer exists. Joyce Carolyn Oates, A Widow's Story